God, the matchmaker

Sometimes, when I catch a glimpse of my wife, as she is doing something in all seriousness as part of her daily routine, there is this feeling, that is a mixture of elation, pride, thankfulness followed by a flutter that is heartfelt.

There is no valid explanation for why we ended up together, or what makes us tick as a couple or why this woman is my world. That is what makes it all the more interesting. We also have reason to believe that our match was made by the matchmaking Guru himself!

Why does one bring up ones appreciation for his wife or marriage or the matchmaker right now?

The one thing that has kept me deeply distracted from my fathers hospitalization and all the phone calls to India is the visuals and the soundtrack from Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi, the latest movie starring one of my all time favorite heroes, ShahRukh Khan.

The story of a boring average man, marrying a vivacious young girl due to fate and chance, trying to win her love by living a double life that is partly his usual boring self and partly his wifes flamboyant wannabe dance partner.

If you read the reviews for this movie, the first thing you will hear is, how lame the heroine must be for not being able to distinguish between her boring husband and her flirty dance partner, essentially the same guy with only a different hairstyle and a pencil thin moustache to disguise him.

You will also read about the stupidity of the hero in trying to test his wife to see if she will chose the boring guy over the dancer because her husband loves her deeply and it is for her to see that love and realize that.

Then the reviews will go on to praise SRK for his acting, the soundtrack, the confidence with which first time heroine Anushka Sharma has acted and danced, the comedy of Phatak, etc.

What is most interesting in this movie is the realism. Okay, realism in an SRK bollywood movie is mostly seen as an oxymoron by most. So, I will have to explain, that too with a personal perspective.

Once upon a time, a young lad who came to the USA about sixteen odd years ago was a hopeless romantic. He did not even know that he was the hopeless romantic type because he had no time for girls or women till then.

One fine day, he started writing poems and started dreaming with his eyes open. As a girl put it, he hit puberty at 22 and went from 16 to 22 in two weeks and still had to learn the difference between love and infatuation. That is when another girl read his poem and quoted a russian saying "good love breeds babies, bad love breeds poems". That just confused him a lot more. He started saying cliches like "Women!"

Being a Ph.D. student, any methodical attempts to systematically understand women, what they want, why they want, how they want, etc. ended up consistantly with singularities, infinite loops, moebius strips and more cliches.

At the same time another profound piece of advice from an elder cousin, "If a girl says she is interested in you, kisses you, even sleeps with you, it still doesn't mean she loves you. It just means she wanted to kiss you or sleep with you!". Hmm, with advice like that, the Ph.D. in love had its graduation date moved indefinitely.

The quest for love or at least a simpler understanding of what consituted love continued. Then came dancing! Ballroom dancing is complicated. The music and the motions are easy, it is the emotions that are difficult minefields.

Once a famous dance instructor, taught a group of dancers a very simple lesson, when we were in the UK for a dance competition. (Yes, you could get paid trips to the UK to compete in dance competitions). He asked all the men and women to line up on opposite sides of the floor. Then the women got to pick a random partner. The men held the women with a single hand hold and the women were asked to move around the men, while still in that hand hold.

He would ask the women to move close in normal hold (1 foot away), then get close within inches of each others face, make the woman move away and turn her back (3 feet away), walk behind the man and around him, etc. etc. He asked the women to describe the emotion they saw on the mens faces, that too after we switched partners a few times.

The statistic was overwhelming. The men smiled when the women drew close and showed sadness when the women went away. They were so transparent! What was really surprising was that the women also smiled when they came closer to the men and stopped smiling when they moved away.

That whole statistic might be skewed by the fact that everyone in that room was a ballroom dancer. It is like looking at a fishbowl and explaining how all fishes like the water, so take it for what it is worth.

Based on that above experiment, one should realize that irrespective of chemistry there is some emotion that comes through in dancing with a partner. To top things off, if that girl happens to be gorgeous, skimpily clad or both, you have to focus on the dancing and tone down on the emoting! That part is easy if you respect the woman. There is no "Rakhi" required!

Is there a higher probability of dance partners falling in love? Maybe, maybe not. Dancing with a person doesn't make you fall in love. Falling in love with a person might make you want to dance! That part comes from the heart. Will swear by it!

After surviving years of dancing with women, with only a few scars in my heart, I did find the one destined for me, far away from a dance floor. To this day, the Mrs. and me have not danced together, although she was my best critic.

When someone goes through an arranged marriage with another person they know very little about, barring a few simple things like

a. a smile that lights you up
b. a voice that sounds soothing
c. gorgeous
d. a dress sense that appeals to you
e. gorgeous
f. come to think of it, really gorgeous
g. shy
h. c., e., and f., all over again...

It takes some time to build that relationship, till you realize one fine day that you are indeed head over heels in love, and it is usually for none of the reasons cited above! One can only give the male perspective here, as the female perspective cannot be found, put in words or explained in any language known to man.

Somewhere in the process of building that relationship as a married man, a "family man", even a hopeless romantic gets so caught up with the daily grind that he can become the boring average person, who simply goes about doing his job, making ends meet, getting into a routine, smug in his knowledge of 1001 things you can do on a silicon wafer or 101 ways to change a diaper.

The romantic streak is still alive, but much like a candle wick sucking on that last drop of molten wax, with the flame barely visible. A flame that barely threatens your fingers and tempts you to extinguish it with a simple squeeze. It is a flame nevertheless and given some more wax it can recreate the magic of what it once was.

There is also something to be said about the tacit understanding that passes for love when two people spend a decade together. There is love in mundane things that are said or done, without being specified explicitly. There maybe some love, even in boredom and monotony.

Rab De, presented all this with an amazing realism. The thing that touched a cord was the difference between explicitly expressed love, the type where a guy gets a chance to sweep a woman off her feet, something that is unique because it is not a daily event, something on a grand scale that can make memories, lasting ones, in sharp contrast to implicit tacit love, that is unsaid, given without any expectations.

Unconditional love that is as true in its abstract grandeur even though it has no voilins playing in the backdrop or firecrackers lighting up the sky. A bond that two people can share in silence, a truth that is self consistant within two souls, without the requirement for any reinforcement from anyone else.

Take heart, for there is hope for boring men, who screamed romance openly a few years ago, but have now been delegated to dishwashing duties and diaper changing and somehow don't say "I love you!" enough times in a 24 hour day, but still have that small romantic spark alive in them.

All it takes is some hair gel, sunglasses, tight fitting clothes, take a chance on your dancing and you too can be Jodi No. 1, as long as the Missus co-operates. If she likes to wear spandex, even better!

Loved this movie, and that was easy being an SRK fan. He consistanly manages to make me teary eyed when it comes to sentimental love stories and his goofiness and dancing are a treat to watch. The music is amazing. Your feet just start moving automatically. In the fourteen times I have heard "Tujh mein rab dikhta hai", got goosebumps all 14 times.

Go see it. Just take the moustache/sunglass part in the same spirit as Lois Lane takes Clark Kent/Superman! and you might come out with a smile on your face, and that flame might flicker and grow slightly bigger.

.

The null vote

It is time to vote for the next President, a few local government positions, some propositions etc.

The ballot becons and with pen in hand the two voting adults in the house are discussing things, much to the amusement of the non voting adult and the kids!

What is there to discuss?

Yeah sure, the wife saw the last debate and converted to Obama.. She was actually swayed momentarily by the hockey mom earlier with the tongue clicking and cuteness, but somehow the whole stance on education and choice from the "old dude" turned her.

Asked her why Obama appealed to her and the answer was

This guy says "we can do it" and the old guy says "I will do it for you".. Somehow that was perceived as not associating with the voter! Good, good, one more vote is good..

Now, that said, what is there to discuss?

Proposition 8, of course. Last week there was a huge rally at the local public park with a few thousand red T-Shirts with placards saying "Marriage is one man one woman", Vote yes on 8 , Honk if you agree etc..

People drove by honking or giving their finger to the crowd which was 99% asian (mostly Chinese, vietnamese looking folk) who make up a majority in cupertino and my guess is that they are all very religious church going folks. There were even some local groups sporting church paraphranelia.

In any case, a middle aged white man approached us and said "you are registered voters , yes?" and we said "yes" and he went on to ask us about India, which part, etc. etc. and said "please vote yes on 8 or we lose our values".. they will start teaching our kids in kindergarten that it is okay for a guy to marry a guy!

"our values"?!? But we hardly met!

Now lets look at reality here and try to answer some of these questions..

a. What percent of the population is gay?

b. Do the gay population have a choice in being gay?

c. Is this really about kids being taught in kindergarten that "guys can marry guys"?

d. Would that really change a straight child from turning gay or if not not taught, change a gay child from becoming gay?

e. Are there straight and gay children?

f. At what age does a child know a preference? (if you read Desmond Morris's "the naked ape" which I think is a fantastic anthropology book for novices, you will find that most humans go through a hate-love-hate phase.. initially boys find girls yukkie, then they bond a lot with boys, then they suddenly find girls attractive)

g. What percentage of the teaching population is gay?

i. How many teachers will actually bother to mention to the students (especially in kindergarten) about sex?

j. How many will further venture to the topic of same sex?

k. What are the chances of any of the books explicitly dedicating a paragraph or a chapter to same sex marriage?

l. How much do our students listen to their teachers?

m. What has any of this got to do with marriage?

n. Is marriage "one man one woman" or does it get expanded to "one man one woman at a time"? or "one woman one man at a time"?

o. Wasn't the whole idea to give equal rights like (emergency room visitation, legal custody, will and testament stuff, family health insurance, transfer of assets on death etc.) to gay couples?

p. What if the dude who came and told me about "our values" has a teenage kid who he does not know is gay, yet?

q. Doesn't cupertino have the higest local population with at least a M.S.degree or higher in every household?

r. How come that population is not able to rationalize the reasoning behind prop 8?

s. How come the dude was able to scare my wife to believe that somehow our kids would be turned gay by their kindergarden teacher and her dreams of having grandkids were trashed momentarily?

t. If cupertino has this fate, what chance does this proposition stand elsewhere?

u. Why is this more important than my 401k?

v. What of the poor gay couple who have lost all their 401k?

w. Why is the default "yes" on this proposition a vote against civil rights?

x. Why should anyone who thinks that same sex couples should have rights be branded as gay, or less macho, or be branded as "value less"?

y. Didn't they have rallies like this a hundred years ago saying "vote yes" for women not to have voting rights?

z. Didn't they have similar rallies fifty years ago saying "vote yes" so blacks cannot vote?

aa. Is California ready for that level of tolerance?

ab. Does this have anything to with a blue vs. red state or it is a different demographic that drives this?

ac. Should I stop now?

My brain is doing 400 GHz again. Need to go stick in the refridgerator..

Last time it was a null vote in this house for Hillary vs. Obama.

This time it might be a null vote on prop 8!

I leave you with lots of questions, no good answers.

Tomorrow is another day.

.

Chocolate vs. Vanilla

It was a thursday morning. He remembered the day so vividly. "Was it really a thursday?" , he said to himself and went to a website to check. He could not believe it. It was indeed a thursday.

His father had told him that at precisely 10:27 AM on that fateful morning, his life was about to change. "Bah!" was his response, at least in thought, because he was so tongue tied at the moment. He had a million thoughts crossing his mind, and all at once he would erase them all and go into a deep silence, overwhelmed by what was happening to him, all around him.

God, Why did I come back? was the only question where all those thoughts settled.

Just a few days back, he had boarded a plane to India, in hopes of giving his old grandfather a last view of his face! His grandfather, the one person who he loved more than anyone else, was losing his eyesight. Grandpa was requesting that his grandson visit him once, before going into some surgery which had a small chance of success.

He was, in reality, being lured to come back to India, so they could all make him do their bidding. As a collective group his family had decided that the only way they don't loose their darling, was to bring him back home, at any pretext.

He landed in India only to find out that grandpas vision was not in any immediate danger. He was happy, and sad. He knew what that meant. They were going to cajole, convince, or in the event none of that worked, force him to get married!

He told all his relatives that his idea of marriage had changed. He had his own plans. His earlier attempts at trusting his family in finding him a girl ended with disastrous consequences. He had lost all faith in the arranged marriage system. Not to mention that there was this girl who was really getting into his head back in the States.

A year back he had visited India for two weeks. He was becoming more "Americanized" as they all put it! His grand father had come home jubilant one evening "Guess who I ran into at the Vethalai Kadai(Pan shop)? My old friend Ambi!! Apparently he is looking for a match for his grand daughter. He had her horoscope in his bag. I always have a copy of this horoscope in my bag. We went right to the astrologer and guess what the astrologer said? There are 10/10 matches. This IS the girl for our boy!". The whole house was celebrating, except for him.

The next day, the boy got to see a photograph of the girl. She was leaning back on a Maruthi 800 car. He instantly thought of Pythogoras, similar triangles etc. and figured that the girl must be at least 4 to 6 inches taller than him and ten to twenty pounds heavier too.. "This is my destiny?" he thought. The whole family backed the astrologer!!! The girls mom and uncle came to meet him later that day and told his dad, "Your son is extremely outgoing and intelligent. He has a great future. But our daughter looks a lot healthier than him by comparison. So this match will not work out". The family was dejected, more because their little lad was right, and he knew "similar triangles". "No fooling this boy!", they realized.

A week later, a real visit to another 10/10 match. He looked at the girl, the girl looked at him and they felt like they were auditioning for the roles of "long lost siblings". There was no "spark". There was an invisible wall between them with an unheard of dielectric constant. Definitely no chance of sparking!

Then out of the blue, his aunt told them of a colleagues daughter. He remembered that girl. She used to be cute. He told his mom, "why not that girl?".. the prompt response was "we showed both your horoscopes to the astrologer and he said she will go mad within 3 years of marrying you!".

He was thinking of finding and killing that astrologer and saving a few girls from going mad in the future!

More pictures followed in the last days of the trip. He figured out quickly that the higher the matching on the 10 point scale (Pathu poruththam), the more the prospective girl looked like....a boy! Maybe they were subliminally suggesting that he become gay? Was it that his mother rejected all the good looking ones? Was he destined to marry someone he did not like? Did these people who claimed to love him so dearly, even understand what his definition of a good looking, good natured girl was?

The trip came to an end. He went back to the USA. He put marriage out of his mind and started wrapping up his studies. There was no way that an arranged marriage was going to work. He better be open to "falling in love", he told himself! A year later, here he was, duped by a fake cataract operation. It was "Operation Marriage" that he had come to witness.

Two days of lectures, threats, yelling, screaming, not by his dad or mom but pretty much the entire extended family! Subtle threats alternated with blatant threats, brainwashing, his responsibility to the family, his siblings, pressure tactics that would make CIA interrogaters look like high school bullies, it was intolerable. At times he felt like he had come to a house where someone had died. The people sitting all around him with expressions of anger, denial, grief, made him realize that someone had indeed died. The older version of himself. The last three long years, had driven him so far away from his older self that he found himself at odds with his family on almost every view point.

It was decided though, that at 10:27 that morning, as all the stars had divined to his dad, that he would be in front of the Dakshinamoorthy statue in the Kapaleeshwar temple! He knew he was going to meet some girl that his parents had selected. He also knew that he was never leaving Indian soil without getting married. The only thought on his mind was to somehow buy some time! He needed to clear his head, drink lots of coffee, think it over, be ready to get married. Be mentally prepared to live with someone.. live with anyone for that matter. What was he going to do? Get married and take some girl back to the US with him to that one bedroom apartment of his? It was not ready for him to go back to that apartment, leave alone a stranger!

There was no point in thinking anymore. Time was running out. It was 10:15 already and instinctively he bent down and touched the foot stone at the entrance to the temple and touched his eyes. "What am I doing?" was his thought. Wasn't I angry at god just a few minutes ago in that auto-rickshaw on the way to the temple?

Kapaleeshwar temple was one of his favorite hangouts. A place that had only happy memories for him in his life so far. It was a place synonymous with Grandpa, Pradoshams, Chasing peacocks with his baby brother, elephant fights, festivals, ... a rush of memories. Would all those be wiped out with what was about to happen? He did not know.

His father guided him to the Dakshinamoorthy idol, put some sacred ash on his forehead and said "Come with me!". There was no threat in that voice. It was a man who was near tears, almost pleading in his tone. There was no "I am your dad and I said so" tone that had been so dominant in the last few days. It was more of a "Really hoping you will do me this courtesy son. After all that I have done for you..." tone.

He followed quietly. For some reason he remembers blanking out and stepping along the borders between the giant stones that made up the floor. He was stepping, not walking, just like he would when he was a small child visiting that temple..

It was still 10:27. Must have been. They walked towards the inner sanctum and were met with a small group of people who were sitting in a circle on the floor. A grandpa, a grandma, uncle, an adolescent brother, and a girl who was giving them a blank stare! They were introduced. He did not even know her name till then!

There were some background conversations. No. There were some conversations which for some strange reason were delegated to the background in his head. His father and the grandpa said in unision "If you kids want to talk it is okay with us!".

"Talk, you said?" he was thinking. Suddenly, it struck him! Talking came very naturally to him, especially in crisis situations. If ever there was a crisis, where he was required to talk, this was it! He said "yes" and surprisingly the girl said "I would like to talk".

It was not like they could go to the next room and talk. There were so many people there and the odds where that, if they bumped into Tom, Dick and Harry, Harry would have been a relative, friend or an aquaintance. It was a small world! They started walking around the temple in the hot sun. They had almost walked halfway around the temple when she said something for the first time. Earlier she had not said Hi or Hello or given a handshake. It was almost like she had refused to acknowledge his existance!

Her first words to him where:

"Are you also superstitious like your dad?"

!!!!!!!! he looked. !!!!!!!!! indeed. His eyes almost popped out. Mentally he was crossing his hands across his chest waving NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO in 24 point bold, but he was still tongue tied and mananged to blurt out a weak "no" in 8 point italized font. He was downright offended. Does this girl have a clue about what she is talking about? How dare she extrapolate me based on my dad? Just because a boy with a Ph.D. meekly follwed his dad to be in front of an idol at precisely 10:27AM on said thursday, allowed some ash to be applied on his forehead and continued on to meet a girl whose name he did not even know, doesn't mean he is superstitious! Far from it! Did she know anything about what they put him through to become so meek? Did she know that he had no idea where his passport or return tickets were?

For some strange reason, he poured his heart out to the girl over the next half hour. It was a huge temple and at the rate they were walking, would easily take 20 minutes to go around. He noticed that the girl was trying to walk with the side of her feet because the ground was too hot! He was used to it. "Looks like you are not used to walking in the hot sun" he told her, "do you want to go stand in the shade and talk?". "No! It is alright. I can keep walking" came the defiant reply.

They had already crossed the little group waiting for them once, without even acknowledging their presence. The second time, someone waved from the circle. "Need one more round of talks?" came the question. "Why should every family have an uncle who cracks such jokes?" he thought and said "Yes. Would like to talk some more".

Well, this was the deciding round of talks. He told the girl that he really had no plans to marry at this time and he had his own idea of who and how to get married, but things just weren't working out his way. "It happens" she had said. "Shit happens" he had heard. Such a simple view of things, he had thought!

So far he had talked sensibly. Not that he remembered much, except for the fact that the girl had some "keerai" stuck between her teeth and half the time his thought process would be interrupted by "Should I tell her about the greens stuck between her teeth?".

Suddenly, he asked her "What is your expectation in life?".. After those words came out of his mouth, he felt like sucking those words right back in, but it was too late. What the hell was he thinking. Did HE have expectations in life? Did they really matter? Then why the hell did he ask her something that stupid?

To his surprise, the girl actually answered! Did not think. Just answered in a matter of fact way. "I want to be happy!". At that precise moment, satan entered his tongue and he asked another equally ridiculous question "Can you elaborate?". The girl laughed for the first time. "I just want to be happy! There is nothing more to it. Be happy. That is all!"

They had reached the small group of relatives who were all standing up, ready to leave. His dad looked at him and said "Let's go". There was some strange pride in that voice which said "I knew I did right by you this time, boy!". They walked into the inner sanctum and his dad asked "Will you marry this girl?".

His brain did the "million thought juggle" again and he posed himself a quesiton. "You are against marriage at this point in your life. But that is not a choice you seem to have. If you HAD to get married, would you marry this girl?" and the answer inside his head was a resounding YES. This girl would be able to handle him. She believes in "Shit happens" and "Wants to be happy". What more can you ask for?

He looked at his dad and said "Yes".

They walked back in silence to the group that came out of the other sanctum. My grand daughter says "Yes", declared the grandpa.

His dad took it as though it was expected. Of course she was going to say "Yes" was his reaction. Was he so sure that his son would appeal to the girl? Was he so sure that the Dakshinamoorthy idol would do its job? The boy was for lack of a better word "stupefied"!

"She said "What?" to me?! This girl must really see something in me that I don't", he thought, as he walked out of the temple. He could see that the girls brother was double, triple checking with his sister "are you sure?".."he is not that tall?".."are you really sure?".. "can we call mom and dad to fly in to make the rest of the arrangements?" .. he overheard the boy asking his sister as she got into their auto-rickshaw. She must have said "YES" in 24 point bold, because the brother was grinning from ear to ear as he revved up his bike and follwed the auto.

The next thirteen days saw a whirlwind of activity. An engagement, a quick treat for her friends at Saravana Bhavan, where all her friends implored him in secret to get rid of his earring before the wedding (apparently she was embarrased by it!), a marriage ceremony, wedding reception, not to mention a registered wedding, a visa interview, flying arrangements and a trip back to the USA with a bride, all in under two weeks!

So many things could have gone wrong. Somehow, all the 321,515 ducks lined up in a row and a series of events fell along so smoothly that it was beating the odds, by a wide margin! There was definitely some help from the unknown, he thought, as they were walking around the Singapore airport. It was the first time they got to talk to each other, since their marriage, where they were by themselves and they had resolved themselves to what had just happened.

They walked past an ice-cream stand and she had a big smile on her face. She asked "Do you like Chocolate?".

YES, he replied. Finally we both like something ..the same thing.. he thought. "Let me buy two chocolate ice creams. You really like Chocolate?" he beamed.

"No" came the reply. "Actually I don't. I just guessed you must like chocolate because I don't. I like only Vanilla. So far we have nothing we both like! I was just testing to see if it was still true!"

It finally dawned on him that this girl had a 0/10 match with him, yet she was already married to him and they were going to spend a long long time together. This was going to be interesting! What the hell were those astrologers thinking? What was all that stuff about 10:27 and the Dakshinamoorthy idol? Bah! Bah! Bah!

They reached the apartment and settled in over the weekend. While they unpacked, he searched for their marriage certificate in the suitcases. He had to submit photocopies to his workplace to tell them he now had a dependent on his visa!

She stood over his shoulder and said "Show me that. I never got to see our marriage certificate!"

They opened it and the first thing that struck them was the flourishing big signature in green ink at the bottom of the page

Marriage Certified by the Sub-Registrar of Mylapore

V. Dakshinamoorthy

So, it was true. Dakshinamoorthy, had indeed, got them married!

.