A Journey of Arranged Love

[Guest]

It was a typical arranged marriage. I was in my late twenties, and my hair was thinning out, reminiscent of my ancestors. My mother, the most anxious woman in our community, often fretted over my situation.

“Meet, you need to get married soon before you go completely bald. Who will want to give their daughter to you then?”

I could only chuckle at her concern. “Don’t worry, Ma. A princess will come running to marry your son.”

She would embrace me with warmth, saying, “Yes, but you do need someone who can look after you and prepare home-cooked meals when you come back late from work.”

Our families arranged a meeting, as is customary. It was a family affair where both sides gathered. A well-meaning relative suggested,

“Let them have some privacy… they should meet alone.”

The room buzzed with chatter and laughter. I understood that both the bride and groom should have a say in their marriage. I knew she came from a prosperous business family, significantly wealthier than mine, which made me question my chances.

“She’s beautiful and affluent… why would she choose me, a software engineer not even making a fortune in the US?”

Once we were alone, time seemed to fly. My heart raced as our eyes met for the first time. She truly was the princess of my dreams.

But doubt crept in again: “Why would she choose me?” I sensed her family’s eagerness to finalize this match. In my nervousness, I resorted to a rehearsed line,

“What’s your name? Do you really want to marry me?”

She replied with confidence, “Mitu. Yes, I have options to marry a millionaire, but I’ve always seen Lakshmi (the goddess of wealth) in my family without Sarswati (the goddess of knowledge). I prefer wisdom over wealth, and you are the most qualified among the proposals I’ve received.”

In that moment, I allowed love to take hold. Meet and Mitu… what a perfect pair! Just then, a flurry of relatives burst into the room. Our moment was interrupted.

“What a couple… Ram and Sita…”

“Wow… what a sister-in-law…”

“Jiju is so cool…”

“You’re lucky to get such a simple girl…”

“Beti, you’re beautiful! Are you happy?”

I found myself ushered into the hall where the men were seated. Her father announced,

“Congratulations! The groom has agreed to the marriage… my daughter is as beautiful as a piece of the moon!”

Everything unfolded rapidly. The next day was Varaksha (the final agreement), followed by Sagai (engagement) two days later, Tilak (reception at the groom’s house) a week after that, and then the wedding just after Tilak. I must admit that I had hoped for some time alone with her as a “girlfriend” to make my bachelor life meaningful. However, our schedule was packed with relatives pouring in from both sides. My dreams felt like they were slipping away amidst the chaos of customs and traditions.

In the midst of it all, I managed to get her number and called her for an outing.

She answered maturely, “I’ll talk to my father and get back to you.”

An hour later, I called again.

“He said you both will be together forever after next week… just be patient,” she relayed.

I sensed her father’s concern that his chatty daughter might spill something that could jeopardize the marriage at the last moment.

Finally, we met on our first night—the night of dreams fulfilled. We enjoyed our honeymoon together but soon had to navigate family expectations as well. Before our married life turned into a battleground of mother-in-law versus daughter-in-law dynamics, I received an onsite job opportunity in Europe for a year. She was my Kajol and I was her SRK; our life felt like DDLJ—Vienna, Lucerne, Amsterdam, Paris… each month was special and beautiful.

Eventually, she shared some exciting news:

“Meet, it’s been two months since my last period; I think it’s good news.”

“Oh Meetu…”

I lifted her up and showered her with affection without holding back—my princess looked like the most beautiful woman in the universe.

Then came the day when she was in excruciating labor pain. Tears filled my eyes as guilt washed over me for putting her through this pain. Holding her hand gently between mine, I said,

“Mitu, I’m so sorry… this is all my fault… I wish I hadn’t insisted on having a baby.”

Her other hand reached up to touch my bald head tenderly. “Meet, I can endure anything… any pain… for you… for your love… just stay by my side.”

In that moment, I felt true love—deeper than simply reciprocating feelings for her. I realized that I had achieved something profound in our relationship.