I was doing MA when I had my first encounter with a prospective bride. The curly-haired Sunita, whom I wanted to marry, was my classmate. She asked me to visit her parents and request the hand of their daughter in marriage.
The day of trial finally came after a long wait. My maternal uncle, who was not much elder to me, accompanied me as my guardian on this romantic trip. He was more than a ditto copy of me. I felt a sense of envy when he would apply the best cream on his face and wear a sophisticated cologne. These were luxuries to me. What pained me was that he looked more of a suitor than me.
As told by Sunita, we reached the house where the nameplate read "Dr...Sharma". With a trembling hand, I pressed the bell. Opening the gate, the maid asked, "Whom do you want to see?" "Miss Sunita," I replied enthusiastically. "Welcome! She has just gone to the market to bring sweets for some guests who are coming tonight." "Not tonight, today evening," my uncle corrected with a sense of eminent status, he being the guardian of a handsome suitor.
We kept waiting in the drawing room, but no one turned up. After an hour, a man in his 60s entered the drawing room. "Dr Sharma here," he said. Standing up respectfully, my uncle explained: "You know Dr sahib, this nephew of mine is the most talented boy in our area...we are here with a proposal...he loves your daughter Sunita...she is willing to marry him...your blessings alone can enable him to get her fair hand."
{{/usCountry}}We kept waiting in the drawing room, but no one turned up. After an hour, a man in his 60s entered the drawing room. "Dr Sharma here," he said. Standing up respectfully, my uncle explained: "You know Dr sahib, this nephew of mine is the most talented boy in our area...we are here with a proposal...he loves your daughter Sunita...she is willing to marry him...your blessings alone can enable him to get her fair hand."
{{/usCountry}}"What nonsense! Sunita is already married," the old man thundered with anger. We ran out of the house to save our skin only to find a fat, middle-aged Sunita at the gate walking towards us with a packet of sweets. How we would have savoured them had the situation been to our liking!
This misadventure proved contagious. Thus followed another trial! While proposing the second girl, I became a little fidgety. My prompt "yes" was followed by a frank "no". The blow was morally painful, but it gave me a wiser head on my shoulders.
I thus decided to be silent the next time. When the two ladies accompanying the prospective match asked for my opinion about the girl, I kept mum and simply nodded in approval. They rejected me, thinking I was dumb.
In my next match-finding exercise, my father didn't like to accept dowry. The girl's father rejected the proposal, thinking that "dishonouring" dowry would lower their family's status. Learning a lesson from it, my father asked for dowry in cash the next time, but the move turned counterproductive.
Dejected by such failures, I had dropped the idea of marriage when the unthinkable happened. Man proposes God disposes. After much resistance, I agreed to my parents' request to give it another go. I would have regretted it for life had I not. The moment I saw her, I knew she was the one. Even she liked me. When I blushed, she smiled and offered me burfi. Her etiquettes and smiling gestures gripped my heart. This daughter of a big landlord is my best friend for life.