The Token of Marriage

Marriage for money, marriage as a contract, marriage as a symbol of love, all warp into what our current understanding of a marriage is. Marriage symbolizes a successful love life and in many cultures, is the woman’s phase of emerging adulthood. A century ago it was the only way a woman could leave her parent’s household, while today starting an independent life and supporting yourself is advocated from the colorful east to the business-minded west.

Arranged marriages project the idea of child brides, a colorful weddings in the rural villages of India, and the simple word pushes people to immediately exocitize those parts of the world, even though arranged marriages are more common practice than people think; and it is here in the small village in India where a daughter of the town’s wealthy class, pushed back against her stenotypes of a woman, and refused to get married before she got her PhD.

This humble agricultural town in north India filled with farm animals and the working caste who woke every morning to the wake of sunrise to plow the town’s main export, wheat. Sun rise and chirping birds were the alarm clock for the men to begin their day in the field, and for the women to cook breakfast. It’s always like that for the working caste because they couldn’t afford home assistants. Wooden, clay, and concrete huts spotted the outskirts of the main town, and dirt roads was the only connecting lines that moved you between the thousand years of engrained caste system, clearly defining the poor and rich, with little movement within the social structure to the main town center. It was a humble town in the 1900s. The center of the town had one movie theater, markets, a school, and business.

If you walked down the street, kicking rocks along the way you would soon stumble on Kashri’s monstrosity of a home, with a temple and 7 ½ foot statue that the whole town visited to pray.

One step onto their land and the wealth spoke for itself. Servants chopped the meal’s vegetables, boiled the chai every morning, and helped clean two story house, stripping much of the household responsibilities from the women. Education held the most importance, and proper social standing since the Kashri ancestors built the town’s first school. And just as her ancestors, the rebellious daughter of the town’s most wealthy family pushed and advocated for her education.

Women aren’t supposed to be smarter than their husband because then they wouldn’t marry you, and the idea of not marrying was the biggest slap in the face for the Indian culture. Mrs. Kashri decided to forgo an arranged marriage in her early 20s to pursue her undergrad degree, masters, and eventually PhD, there was always a pull between her family’s prestigious status in the town, and her desires.

“Now?” Her mother would pry after she finished high school.

“Now?” she pried again after her undergraduate degree.

“Now?” again after her masters.

“Now?” once again with a PhD in her hand.

“Okay. Now.”

That was the green light her family was waiting for and that day, like an old-school Match.com, they wrote up her Bio, Education, Birthday, included a picture, and sent out her advertisement to the secular newspaper. At the time when information was distributed solely through paper, each caste had different publication, and rarely intermingled. Word spread fast and the modern young woman met her now husband at the end of the month.

“He is the only one who will accept your PhD.” Her mom emphasized in a whisper, while they waited in the living room for the potential groom. His father found her ad and sent a postcard on his son’s behalf saying he is interested in finding a bride. And after the potential bride was initially interviewed by the groom’s father and mother, she waited to meet him.

He walked in and sat down, “What is your name?” and she was throw aback. How many girls is he looking at if he can’t remember my name? Is he joking right now?

The conversation lasted 20 minutes, and in that time, the modern bride summed him up. “He was nice, clear hearted,” and then they got married April 27th.

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The importance on marriage and family in the Indian culture can be found in many other parts of the world. Where education was highly preserved, marriage was the closest to a happy ever after and the identity of the family was as fragile as the glass they surrounded their women in. Be sure not to break it, otherwise it will never be put back together again. A type of humpty dumpty that if broken, ruined reputations, and you knew better to go against the status quo in a country ruled by the gossip of an auntie’s tongue.  And as a rule of thumb family, maintaining societal ties, and keeping your name out of gossip are some of the governing rules. Education in general were allotted to those who won the lottery of wealth and a high cast, and even then, was a man dominated field, and marriage was the biggest escape for women. Men had education to take them away from their family’s supervision, women had marriage but then fell under the rule of their husband. Our beautiful bride, with a PhD in hand, was 28 years old when she shrugged at the thought of marriage. “It is a way of life. It’s not a big deal. I knew it was going to happen at some point with someone. My biggest concern was my education and I got that.”

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They met on a warm day, in her living room. Chai was served and in front of her, her mother, father and brother, her future sister in law and mother took turns asking her questions about her life, preferences, and education, all trying to understand the potential bride. A few moments later the groom waltzes in, sits down on the couch and they meet. She was hesitant about him at first when his first question was, “What is your name again?”
Are you serious? She thought. How many girls have you been seeing?

They laugh about it now, but at the moment she was taken aback. His only convincing attributes was what she saw in him.

“He was kind and considerate. I felt that he had a good heart.”

The marriage commenced at the end of the month on April 29th.

It was a beautiful wedding. Larger than life, with the bride, groom, and official on a stage crafted of flowers, linen, and colors the spectrum barely could account for.

The crowd was mixed with the groom and wife’s family, all staring at our bride who stood out in an untraditional way, from the traditional ceremony. She wore a magenta and white leignha even though tradition demands red to be the bride’s color for religious reasons but she, “liked the color,” and didn’t question her choice once. She was draped with yards of fabric, and adorned with heavy gold jewelry that shone in the lights. Like a Bollywood scene, her and her husband completed the colorful ceremonies, each ceremony having a symbolic meaning, and at the end, after being up for almost 24 hours the only thing on her mind was sleep.

“Just get it over with.”

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Unlike the western world where giving the bride away is sometimes figurative, and the women return to still take part in family affairs, Indian culture is very different. Here the women don’t return, and the burden of caring for them is transferred to the husband and his family. In a sense, they become the woman’s new family in terms of health care, wellbeing, and social status.

So, on the day of the final ceremony, when she was getting to board the train back to her husband’s town, packed clothing, jewelry shoes, gifts from the wedding, her mother’s prayer beads, certificates, thesis, utensils to cook. As she walked out of the house towards the car that would take them to the train station, she filled her cheeks with cold milk, and in a single motion, spit it back towards her family as a sign of good luck. “It’s a funny tradition we do,” she explained. As her whole family said their good byes, she left thinking,

“This is not your house anymore.”

A fact that many girls accepted.

The metal train was crowded, and her new family booked a whole section only for themselves. As the it chugged on, the members of the family danced, sang songs, and shouted praises of the marriage, but in the corner the nervous bride couldn’t.

“You are taking a risk with your life, you have to make it work. There is no divorce.”

After a while, the rejoicing stopped and everyone slept, so much so when the train arrived at the stop and whistled at 8 am the exhausted bodies laid unstirred. “Isn’t this our stop?” the new bride asked shaking her husband awake.

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The honeymoon:

Her husband took 21 days off from work, and they boarded the train that would take them on a flight to Nepal but they were late. About 13 hours late to be exact: they missed their flight from New Delhi. They decided to visit Massouri, Dana Dun and spent two weeks in Haradwair, staying up talking about life, and chatting away until the sun came up. When their honeymoon was over, life began again and Mr. Kashri went back to his job in the main city of Bombay for four weeks, and Mrs. Kashri visited her family for two weeks before returning to Bombay with her husband for two months, then leaving September 6th to San Diego.

“That was the longest journey of my life.” This was her first trip flying, and she lived through the foreign sounds and customs of the flight for 50 hours. She made use of all the snacks the airplane provided, and took only water from the cart as her husband asked for apple juice. But processed apple juice is clear, and the only clear golden colored liquid Mrs. Kashri was familiar with was wine. “Every time he asked for apple juice and I was thinking ‘Oh my god what type of man did I marry?’” Towards the end of the flight she couldn’t suppress her nervousness, and in Hindi asked, “What are you drinking?” “Apple Juice,” he responded and she laughed out of relief that she didn’t marry a drunk. She let out a burst of laughter when she heard this and was relieved she didn’t marry a drunk. And those confusing interactions travelled with the newlyweds all the way to renting a car and getting lost on the way to their hotel, to Mrs. Kashri not knowing how to use the sink knobs.

At about 11 am the pair were woken up by an airhostess on the commuter place from LAX to San Diego, asking them to put their seat up as they began their decent. Once the bags were pulled out, the two into their rented Nissan Ultima and drove to the hotel. It was Mrs. Kashri’s first time reading a map with street names, because in India, if you have somewhere to go, you flag down the nearest person and they will tell you which store to turn at. Streets in India weren’t known by their formal names, but instead by the auntie’s house or dhaba whose spicy smells of chutney, bread, and food lingered on your every piece of clothing the second you passed. In the United States, there was hardly a soul on the street. They decided to stop at a gas station to ask for directions, when a man was coincidently going in the same direction.

Just follow me!

And they all took off, finally reaching their “Days Inn” hotel at 7 pm. They both threw their four suitcases in the room and plopped down on the dated, creaky bed, when deep snoring ensued.

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As in the following days all the logistics were taken care of. Mrs. Kashri got her Social Security card, the new couple left the hotel and moved into and shared a small apartment with an older Indian man, while Mrs. Kashri tried to navigate the secular American culture.

Her husband would travel seven miles to and from work during his lunch break to make sure she was comfortable, and to give her a break from her solitude and thoughts. “He was caring that way. He always wanted to make sure I was okay.”

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Arranged marriages have always been feared, or talked about with a nasty taste in your mouth; it’s seen as a practice that is only part of a Third World country anyway. Yet while there is the culturally cultivated arranged marriage in India, a form of that took place in the United States’ history in the mid to late 90s. However, their match makers were not parents or relatives, it was the economy and society.

In the twentieth century families were iconic and prized in society. If you had a good marriage, children, and were wealthy you had bragging rights and the envy of everyone else. The man was in charge of outside business and the women was in charge of the house. However, just like India, the United States had similar thoughts to where women were looked down as a being with no agency. Because of this, majority of women were controlled by their parents, and their only release being if they married out. Marriage Markets, explains that the United States had a long history of “Companion Marriage,” where women and men found someone good enough to care for them, and didn’t have time to focus on the more recent idea of “soul-mate marriages.” For women, because they had no agency and were desperate for a way out, the cute boy down the street with a temperate demeanor was, on average, their only way to freedom. The parallel is outstanding, and looking at the two worlds as unequal is a disservice to the non-white narratives.

Today Mr. and Mrs. Kashri live in a beautiful home in San Diego and have two children who attend different universities. It’s a life that demands communication between both parties, and they are teaching each other a little every day.