How I stayed a bachelor

How I stayed a Bachelor

“Just tell me what sort of girl you want to marry. Leave the rest to me”

When I looked at myself in the mirror in the morning what looked back was certainly not something that girls would be queuing up for the chance to marry. In fact, as Wodehouse could say, it was something that girls would probably run a mile in stiletto heels to avoid marrying. What gave my aunt the confidence to make a promise like this beat me especially since she had not even a nodding acquaintance with electoral politics.

I was young then, folks! Now, of course, I realize that it is one of the regular party games in South Indian weddings. The aunt, whose worst nightmare would be to really have to find a girl for the good for nothing misshapen gargoyle in front of her, has to act as if finding a match for her nephew was her only ambition in life. The good-for-nothing misshapen gargoyle, whose fondest daydream is to be able to hoodwink a girl and family into considering him an adequate bridegroom, has to act as though the very thought of marriage was anathema to him. It was a game with serious hazards – for the aunt. If she failed, nothing was lost. If she succeeded, however, she had a choice of either actually finding a girl or disguising herself as a flowerpot every time her nephew or his family hove to on the horizon.

Even if all the other descriptions applicable to the nephew also applied to me, the one thing that did not was that intense desire to make the life of a girl miserable by ensuring that she woke up to my face every morning. I am coming on all too altruistic here. It is not really concern for this unknown girl but concern for my own self that made me feel not inclined to marrying. Make no mistake, I like women and love all the positives that people associate with marriage. The problem, however, was that if I married I would have to work! Now that was too high a price to pay!

Meanwhile I have this aunt to deal with and a whole gaggle of relatives on the sidelines eagerly watching the match(-making!).

“Well! I want a beautiful, intelligent, rich, talented, considerate and loving girl”, I said.

“Good! Good! We will soon find one”, said my aunt, though the sickly look on her face belied the enthusiasm of her words.

“But, then, if she is all this and will marry me how can she be called intelligent? And if she is not intelligent, how can I marry her?”

That gem of logic gave me the game, much to the relief of my aunt! In fact, with that one single piece of logic I have successfully fended off all efforts at getting me married. There is, certainly, one girl in this world who owes me a huge debt of gratitude!!


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