The Express Tribune

We all know for a fact that middle-aged aunties are on the lookout for prospective wives for their sons and nephews, during the wedding season. What is surprising though is that young ladies love being the centre of attention and enjoy all the looks of admiration showered on them. And let’s be honest, what better place is there to plan the conception of your own wedding than the venue of someone else’s wedding? However, there are rules that need to be taken into consideration if you wish to actively participate in the South-Asian game of ‘match-making’. Even if you intend to avoid the game altogether, it is important that you at least understand the rules. 1. Don’t look fat – at all This is the time to bring out all the corsets, shape-wear, Spanx (or whatever you call them), hidden safely in your wardrobe. That little paunch may not hold much significance in day-to-day life but it can completely wipe out your game progress (if any). ‘Rishta aunties’ (matchmaking aunties) can catch the signs of a potential ‘jelly belly’ from miles away. Needless to say, a few extra pounds can kill the deal here. 2. The perfect heels You need to find that perfect pair of stilettos. Never go for shoes that are nice and comfortable because you’re always going to be a little ‘too short’ for their sons. While tottering in uncomfortable shoes, remember ‘no pain, no gain’. 3. Do you know how to cook? This is the age-old but very, very important question when it comes to mothers looking for wives for their spoon-fed sons. And the answer is always a very confident ‘Yes!’ They don’t need to know that your greatest culinary achievement is munching on extra-cheese pizza without looking like an idiot… at least not yet. In short, cooking skills and even just the claim of having them can turn rishta aunties on – (now now, don’t let your mind veer off in the wrong direction). 4. Small talk We all know that small talk is the key to success in life. Whether you’re looking for a job or looking for a guy, this skill can take you places. Learn to conceal your disinterest and indifference and chat with the aunties about their pets, stoves, servants, furniture and every other petty thing that they hold dear. Trust me, they love that kind of attention. 5. Walk the walk and talk the talk Do you want to be the trophy wife? Well, you better act like one too. Watch the movie Pretty Woman countless times and rehearse your steps. Your posture should be straight and elegant and you should be able to walk like the ghost of a British aristocrat descending gracefully down the stairs of Buckingham Palace. Now is the time to put that fake accent to good use too. 6. Smile away Trust me when I say that a smile is a lifesaver. It can rescue you from the toughest of situations. Whenever you just don’t know what to do or when you lose track of a never-ending and dull conversation, go ahead and show off those pearly whites until your jaw starts aching. Remember what I said before? ‘No pain, no gain’. Of course, you have to be convincing enough to prove that you’re probably the nicest, sweetest and politest young woman these aunties have ever come across. It’s a tough competition ladies so, fight like a man. 7. Don’t let your appetite get in the way Yes, I know you’re probably terribly hungry and exhausted after all that talking, smiling and mindless nodding but this is the time you’ll need your will power and self-control the most to fight the war against hunger. Eating an entire horse or drinking to your heart’s content are simply out of the question because some aunty out there is watching you, judging you, ridiculing you and maybe even striking you off the list. So, just sit tight and keep your hands tightly clasped (to keep them from reaching out for that freshly fried samosa and that enticing slice of cheesecake). Don’t worry, the fridge is all yours once the guests leave. So, please feel free to consult this ‘instruction manual’ before attending a wedding where you’re most likely to bump into a considerable number of eligible bachelors and their ‘oh-so-scrutinising’ mothers. And remember, realistic acting is not an easy art to master. Therefore, rehearse your fake rishta moves and be well-prepared. Practice will make you perfect; who knows you may even get a chance to go to drama school next year! Having said all that, if you’re one of the very few who wish to be disqualified from the ultimate game of ‘matchmaking’ and those who find this rat race to be absolutely ridiculous as I do, there’s only one tip I have – be real and imperfect. Be yourself. Eat like a man, look like a woman and revel in your moments of sheer awkwardness because that’s who you are. Let’s face it, cooking is not your thing and you probably need to lose a bit of weight too!

I have a mirror in my hands. Mirror mirror, what do you see?

“I see a girl, a black girl, with beautiful eyes… beautiful eyes over gaunt cheeks. Cheeks caved in over thin, crisp lips and a levee against the pointed chin. I see a face festooned by gold; hard earned 18 carats of flimsy artwork. A ritual slaughter of a loved one.”

Say more my mirror. Say more.

“I see a void in the girl. I see uncertain gestures hiding in her smile. I see an ominous pout and a stoic sarcasm in her gentle nods. She knows what to appreciate. She has a keen eye for beauty. And today is a day when she has to be sublime… over every other face and every other shine. But her shine has dimmed, she has concerns. She searches in her image, a hope, a salve. Something trivial, something only she has, something to be proud of. She twists her neck and spins her head. But under the arches of gold and the opulent enfolds of her bridal dress, she finds nothing.”

Show me something that my keen eye cannot see. Show me my worth, show me myself!

“While man inherits the earth, you inherit the fear. Fear of man. Fear of love. Fear of hate. Fear of lust. You have fears of every sort. And you have fought with each one. Some battles you have won and some lost. Your valour has grown in stature and form. Your strength has no face and your courage follows no norm. Your battle-cry has no sound. With your head down, you carry injustice upon your wrists and you bring it down like a pampered child. And you feed the black hole of prejudice with pardon.”

Make more sense. I am lost. Anytime now, a new life will start.

“Remember the scars now buried under a white cosmos? Just beside your nose ring? Whose knuckle was it? Look beyond the gloss of your lips at the bitten ruptures of affection. Whose love was it? Over your right eye, a little mound now healed, left by someone’s disappointment. Whose trust was it? Behind the curtains of gold, under the glitter of your prized possession, someone’s cold hand had left some warm marks. Whose passion was it? Under your skin, under your bones, suspended in your blood, ornaments of life, broken, re-broken, healed and then broken again. Such cruel masonry and yet, you forget. Don’t cry now… be still. You have lived through hatred with your head held high. Now vie for love from the fickle fate. Marry, you must. You once had a life of your own when you dreamt. Dreams, selfish dreams, severed from the world. Time knocks at the door, arms full with social roles. Don’t lose heart. Soon you will forget this day. This pain shall find a way, to be far away. And you will have hopes to relive this life with more power and control. A bit older, a bit wiser and a little bit surprised with children in your wings and a braced heart, you will fly off. But now, turn around and see that door. Behind the door, your mother is waiting. Your brother is waiting. Your father is waiting. Your groom is waiting. Don’t ask me more questions. You are beautiful. You will be loved. Even if it be for a day, you will be loved.”

Rebecca West, a famous author, once said,

“I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat.”

These are powerful words, indeed. Everyone has a different perception of what feminism entails but, universally, it espouses equality and freedom from discrimination, degradation and sexual violence. However, feminism is a concept that sits at odds with a fiercely patriarchal, deeply religious and culture-obsessed society like Pakistan. This is not to say that feminism doesn’t exist in Pakistan; it’s just not given much emphasis or is twisted to suit a man’s needs. From birth onwards, a woman is taught to behave with the utmost poise, manners and good grace in order to secure a rishta (marriage proposal) with a man who has a good job or prospects of moving abroad. No such pressure or emphasis on behaviour is placed on a man. Instead, the man is often brought up in an environment where the females of his house wait on him hand and foot; therefore, naturally, he would expect the woman he marries to do the same. Introducing a woman who has fiercely feminist views, one who believes that a man should wash dishes and cook as well, will only be a source for more problems and disagreements for both parties. Additionally, if the in-laws get involved, the whole fiasco can escalate into an all-out war with the poor husband stuck in the middle, trying to remain neutral and calm. Women should realise that the perception men have of women in their minds is usually a result of how their mothers have conditioned them to behave. For example, if a boy sees his mother being beaten or getting physically abused by his father, he will grow up and do exactly the same with his own wife. This has been proven time and time again to be true. Additionally, if a man sees that his mother doesn’t expect him to make an effort at home, then he will definitely grow up expecting his wife not to care about his callous disregard for household chores either. The point is that one shouldn’t be afraid to introduce their children to what might be considered as gender-specific roles. So, boys should be asked to cook and clean the house and girls should be taught how to change a tire and do other outdoor chores. There is no shame or humiliation in this. We are no longer growing up in a world where male and female roles are clearly defined; the lines started blurring a while ago and the notion that a man’s macho image will be tarnished if he dons an apron is just ridiculous. Doing this from a young age will help a man appreciate the efforts his wife takes upon herself to manage his home. Besides, I’m not saying anything blasphemous or against our religion. Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) has been reported to cook, clean, sew and manage his household affairs 1400 years before our men did. It seems as if Islamic Arabia was far more open-minded all those years ago than the 21^st century Pakistan. It will be wishful thinking to see such changes happening in Pakistan anytime soon, as it is still a very male-driven society. However, we do have some incredible women in Pakistan who are shining a beacon of hope and bringing about change in mainstream ideas, like Sharmeen Obaid, Samina Baig and Ayesha Farooq. I am proud of these women and I feel that they deserve the same respect and recognition that their male counterparts would receive. Our whole life should not have to revolve around marriage proposals and weddings because, as women, we have a lot more to offer to this world. Ardent feminists should also realise that men are not the enemy. Not every man is a bigot or a misogynist or out to attack our individuality or creativity. Sometimes men are able to look at a situation from an objective standpoint and determine a course of action which will, ultimately, be beneficial for all parties. Also, constantly telling a man that he doesn’t help out at home will only have the opposite effect. As long as there is no violence involved, compromising goes a very long way. Feminism cannot be shoved down a man’s throat because he will never consider himself to be a bigot or misogynist. Instead, we should consider feminism with Pakistani-tinted glasses – your husband might not help you in the kitchen but try and ensure that your son does!

Our Pakistani dramas have a good fan following in Pakistan as well as abroad. Many of my friends, visiting from different countries, make sure to add DVDs of Pakistani dramas to their shopping list, every time they visit Pakistan. Our dramas have a sensibility that the ‘saas bahu’ (mother-in-law and daughter-in-law) feud-based Indian dramas lack. I personally believe that Indian dramas have no thought or concept behind them. However, the way Pakistani women are portrayed in our dramas is also objectionable. Let me describe the types of women you come across in our dramas. 1. The middle-class girl, who has a love interest within the elite class. She works hard and is morally the best among the lot. She is a good daughter and has sound values. All these abilities will lead her to be the potential wife of her love interest. 2. The poor girl who is lucky enough to marry to a wealthy man. She has to prove herself better than her evil mother-in-law and her affluent cousin. All she needs to do is to make her marriage work by patience, alongside the awkward situations created by her in-laws. 3. The rich girl, whose parents suddenly passed away and her life is in turmoil because of her greedy relatives, including her siblings and chacha (paternal uncle) or mamu (maternal uncle). As usual, the solution to all her problems lie in marrying a guy who can support her to fight the evil that is her family. 4. The orphaned, Cinderella-type victim who is beaten by her ruthlessly evil aunt and cousins. She is chosen by a guy who happens to be a heartthrob. She will use her innocence, tears and domestic abilities to make him stay. The story will end after countless conspiracies inspired by her evil relatives and she gets her happy ending by marrying him. 5. The loving and dedicated wife who is betrayed by her husband as he is secretly married to another woman. She will cry and her kids will cry and, well, basically there will be a lot of crying. She will live a tough and unhappy life and all she does throughout is, you guessed it, cry her pretty little eyes out. She ends up winning her husband’s love in the last episode or he ends up being paralysed due to some fatal accident. Apparently, karma works when you shed some tears. 6. The rich girl who falls in love with a middle or lower class guy – your typical plot from the 60s and 70s movies. They get married and start their new life happily. But their families conspire to separate them and, in some twisted way, manage to succeed. Later, the couple realise that they cannot live without each other, since this realisation wasn’t present when they were inclined to get married and never leave each other. In the process, they get to see the true face of their families and this helps them patch up. The list goes on. Except for the types mentioned above, the women in our dramas can be largely divided into two categories – the evil ones and the good ones – and both happen to be in love with the same guy. The latter is good and pure, so she ends up winning Prince Charming’s heart, and everyone is happy that she is getting her happily ever after. The former is bad because she, in her conniving ways to win him over, will ruin his life if he chooses the good one – and for all that, the bad one will rot in hell. She is hated for being in love with the same man because she, obviously, does not have a heart or the capability to love another human being. And lastly, the evil one has a modern mind-set and dresses accordingly while the good one is conservative and is never without a dupatta. This mind-set has made us judgmental about people’s character based on their appearance. I have come across many dupatta-wearing girls, giving loath-filled stares to those women who do not carry a dupatta with themselves, and saying,

“They are dressed up this way to seek attention”.

Clearly, it did not occur to them that these ‘attention seeking’ girls might dress up like that because they like it or because their families do not have an issue with dressing up so. When young girls see that only the submissive and dependent girl gets to win over the heartthrob’s heart in these dramas, they try to be like them. Their expectations from and dependence on men increases and their self-esteem goes down. I came across a young girl who got a reality check after watching some of these dramas. According to her,

“These dramas set high standards for who is considered a good husband. He is required to be rich, handsome, educated, successful and nice whereas all a girl needs to be is pretty. No, it does not work this way. Men have concerns as well. You need to have a similar background, good education, a pleasant and confident personality. A woman should complement them in all their traits. They, too, want a companion, not some low-esteem subordinate”.

These mourning, weak, damsel in distress characters are not the true depiction of the Pakistani woman. I have seen women working in the fields alongside men as bread winners for their families, getting a job to help support her low-income household, performing active roles as engineers, doctors, lawyers, bankers, social workers, entrepreneurs, strong-willed housewives and mothers. I have come across many stories where a woman proved herself to be a man’s equal during hardships. The women I know are strong. They do not cry over petty things and neither are they obsessed with marriage. If a man dumps her, she moves on. She does not lock herself in a room and cry herself to sleep just because she is not getting married. In a male dominated society, she faces discrimination, harassment and discouragement, yet she keeps going on. Endorsing the mindset that women are weak and all their dreams and wishes will be fulfilled by the man who chooses to marry them takes away their right for empowerment. The writers need to stop depicting marriage-obsessed and crying women as role models for young girls. We want our girls to be strong, not damsels in distress, always depending on the opposite sex to be rescued.

Weddings are festive and fun occasions. They are probably the only events in the country where both sexes get a chance to mingle and dance together without someone giving judgemental stares and uttering the words ‘haw haye’. Depending on how close or how you’re related to the bride or groom, these festivities can range from being highly fun to chaotic to downright boring. But at every wedding, you are bound to come across different and “special” types of wedding guests. 1) The enthusiast This is the person who is even more excited about the wedding than the bride and groom. He or she seem as if they had been planning their whole life around this wedding. You can spot them at weddings instantly because they love being the centre of attention. They choreograph dances, colour-coordinate their kurtas, socks and dupattas. They make sure they get the most photos taken and have an air of dominance about them that screams “I am better than you”. You would become an archenemy if they found you stealing their lime light. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500"] Photo: Tumblr[/caption] 2) The planner The planner is either the parent, brother, sister or cousin of the ones to be wed and is in a constant state of panic. He or she orders waiters, greets guests, clears out little kids, commands the photographer, checks up on the food arrangements, all the while sweating and looking like a mess. They are not there to enjoy the wedding but to make sure that everything goes pitch perfect. These guys deserve an honorary medal unless they’re being paid to do the job. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500"] Photo: Pinterest[/caption] 3) The apathetic This person was dragged by their mother to come to the wedding. He or she sits in a corner or in the middle of the crowd with indifferent eyes, oblivious to whose wedding it is. You will usually find them playing with their phone, texting or Facebooking, in order to escape from the sheer tedium that has been brought upon them because of this wedding. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500"] Photo: Pinterest[/caption] 4) Ecstatic kids The most annoying thing about weddings is the little children flocking around jumping up and down on the stage. They’re constantly stomping over people’s feet, breaking vases, hiding under tables, licking cream off of desserts, tangling themselves in wires, taking a drag ride on the brides dress, crying, shouting and screaming in an ecstatic trance. However, there are exceptions to the rule as always; cute kids sitting quietly and nicely in their mommy’s laps – I think we need more of those. They are still acceptable and bearable. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="250"] Photo: Tumblr[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="400"] Photo: Tumblr[/caption] 5) The jealous friends Ok, so now that the bride is married, the guy turns out to be a real catch and the wedding is something out of a story book, some jealous friends are overcome by the green-eyed monster. They are secretly sulking, being reminded of their own singleness, worrying about their future and thinking about their prospects (or lack thereof) all the while wondering how much the bride’s dress costs. They will pass bitter remarks, roll their eyes and sometimes even hide their envy under a fake smile – the hiding doesn’t last very long. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="250"] Photo: Pinterest[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="246"] Photo: Tumblr[/caption] 6) The gawker No one knows who this is but it is generally a man whose eyes are fixated upon every woman at the wedding. He attends the wedding with the sole motivation of staring at women. He could be married and even have kids but that will not stop him from his unapologetic gawking. Women feel discomforted by the glares of this persons irritating perversion and sometimes, the gawker is even beaten on thrown out of the wedding. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="460"] Photo: Gifrific[/caption] 7) The foodie These types only attend the event for the food. Their eyes are constantly locked on the food table and on waiters trying to gauge when the food will be served. The foodie hypnotically fantasises about qorma, tikkay, seekh kabab and naan whilst the fat aunt of the bride chatters about the larkay waala’s zameens in Gujjar Khan. And when the food does not meet the foodie’s expectations, he or she consider the wedding a total waste of their time. Sometimes, the relatives can be witnessed stuffing food in their bags for a late night snack! Yes – that happens. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="245"] Photo: Tumblr[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="200"] Photo: Tumblr[/caption] These are the different types of ‘special’ wedding guests I have personally encountered, but I am sure the list goes on. Go right ahead and add your personal favourites too.

If you live in Pakistan, have completed your studies and gotten a job, then you may be one of those victims who are constantly pinched with that one hot question day and night,

“When are you getting married?”

Everyone wants to know the answer to this million dollar question, whether it’s your parents, siblings, grandparents or relatives. It looks as if everyone’s happiness depends on your marriage. Your 100-year-old granny will advise you,

“Beta, jaldi se shaadi kar lo take main apni zindagi main tumhare sar pe sehra saja dekh sakun.” (Son, get married quickly so that I can see you getting married while I'm still alive.)

Your mother will inform you that she has planned everything for your wedding while your father will brief you about the benefits of marriage. When you try to defy everyone’s advice is when you’ll come to know of your ‘real’ value. You will realise that not getting married is the root cause of all evils in the entire world. You will find out that your grandparents, who have completed nearly a century of their lives, are getting sick because of you not getting married, and the constant quarrels between your parents are also due to you. Your siblings’ sad faces and their bad grades are also because of you. Majority of your relatives and neighbours, who never liked you during your childhood because of your wicked behaviour and always tried to keep their daughters away from your shadow so that you cannot influence their blossoming pubescence, would have their eyes intact on you as the ‘Raj Kumar’ for their ‘Raj Kumaris’. Those who were hell-bent upon proving that their daughters are like your sisters will make you realise that those sisters can now be the best life partner for you. You might have observed some unknown people walking in to your home, with artificial smiles on their faces, in quest to win you over for their daughters. Your parents will bombard you with pictures and profiles of potential girls. And if you try to tell them that you’re not in the position to get married right now as you think you aren’t stable enough and cannot support another individual, you will be told that,

“Beta aanay wali apna muqaddar sath laye gi” (Son, your wife will bring her own luck)

They will tell you that, in their times, people used to get married soon after getting a job. Even though you want to tell them that during their time, marriage was the only entertainment available for people, trust me, just don’t and keep it tucked away as a silent thought in your head! You might have also observed that upon meeting an old school friend of yours after a decade, the first question they ask you,

“Dude, when are you getting married?”

Sometimes you will also end up being the butt of the joke as some of your close friends might mock you by advising you to get yourself checked and provide you with a list of hakims they consulted before getting married. After countless follow ups and questions, you start wondering if the sole purpose of your life is getting married. Everything in your life has been nothing but a ploy to get you to tie the proverbial knot. And in the end, you have no other option but to surrender to the pressure built upon you. Dear parents, grandparents and relatives, your son/grandson/nephew totally understands that the nexus of your happiness lies in him getting married, but please also understand that he has some expectations and plans of his own too. As soon as he thinks he’s ready to get married, you are the first people he’ll let know. And if you are worried about him getting old, then you should remember the famous quote,

“Real men never get old!”

Now please concentrate on other life and death matters. Sincerely yours, A Happy Single

“I got a very nice proposal,” said a friend who was at a stage in life where she wanted to settle down in marriage. “But there is an issue. I am 31. And he is 26. I am five years older. I really like him but my mom says that in another five years mein uski maa lagoon gi (I will look like his mother). I will have to say no,” she said with resigned acceptance.

But fate had other plans. The “boy” liked the “woman” very seriously it seemed. He pursued her. Her heart relented. They got married and are now in the seventh year of their marriage. Her hair has begun to show scattered touches of salt and pepper and her husband recently asked what she would like to do on her 40^th birthday so that he can start saving up. Remember, he is still just in his early 30s. But it was not an easy ride for her. It is not an easy ride for anyone who wants to break any social stigma. The age difference issue is definitely almost a stigma. Most of us have an unsaid but set idea about how much the ideal age difference should be. But an attitude of categorically judging the prospect of partnership with someone years apart seems problematic to even the very broad-minded ones. I had once asked a friend if the man she liked was someone we both knew; someone who was eight years older to her.

“Disgusting! How can you even ask me that?” was her response, her face showing she was genuinely disturbed at the idea.

When we like or choose someone as a life partner, what inevitably comes up is the social conditioning that we are subconsciously exposed to all our lives. Even people who are thought of as pragmatic and are led by their head, not heart, are influenced by a fantasy they nurse inside themselves. Conversations on family dining tables, Bollywood movies, observations, attending wedding ceremonies, things friends say... it could be anything that carves an image in our head. We have already created a rough sketch of that person with a brief bio data in our heads. But in isolated cases, the brave ones think outside the box and sometimes make exceptions, like the couple I mentioned. Sometimes these risks work out, otherwise not. With marriage one never knows. But it is important to realise that there is so much to a person that makes him or her “the” person, that in some areas one has to readjust one’s fantasies. I will on purpose avoid the word ‘compromise’ because that word has a negative ring to it. Maybe you are making an informed decision that this person works for you. Maybe you had a taller person in mind... or a person from the same profession as you... or from a certain ethnicity. But then someone special comes along and challenges everything you believed in and you are even willing to take chances you never thought you would because it... well... it just feels right. And this could be true for both arranged or love marriages.

“Marry someone four years older than you beta” is what an aunty was caught saying to a 17-year-old. “That is ideal age difference. He would have already completed his education and would have a job by the time you complete your undergrad. And bachi, you have a tendency to gain weight, so never marry someone your own age.”

While those considerations are not entirely unfounded, they seem rather fickle when compared with more substantial things like chemistry, understanding and a shared vision. It is also important to think and talk about this issue because in most cases, the brunt of the age difference is born by the woman. She feels guilty for no reason and the man whom she may be equal to or may be better than on many counts, becomes this hero because he gave the ultimate sacrifice of marrying “apnay se baray umar ki aurat” (a woman older than himself). If she is also divorced and widowed with children, then he is lauded for being azeem (great). What actually matters in the end is what both of you are bringing to the table when it comes to the combination. We see perfect matches failing and we see the most unexpected relationships working out fabulously. Humans are beautiful and complex creatures. No one formula works for anyone. The end hope is that two people planning to spend the rest of their lives together have a predominantly happy life. That they are attracted to each other, enjoy each other’s company, have a strong connection, have similar values in life, are supportive and respectful, and have figured out a way to lovingly work out their differences. It is shallow and fickle to ignore these bigger factors and focus on things like age, physical features or ethnicity. Society needs to take a back seat and stop with the endless commentaries, as these put an unnecessary pressure on a relationship. If miyaan biwi raazi, then others don’t matter.

When you’re in your 20s and early 30s, you feel like you are stuck somewhere in the middle. You feel confused and agitated, more so because this is the time you start to analyse how you imagined your life to be and how it has actually turned out. If you feel like this, then don’t worry; you’re going through a quarter-life crisis. Here are some of the most common symptoms of this crisis: 1) Every day you log on to your Facebook account and you see:

“Sara got engaged to Akram” “Bilal married Eraj” “Mushtaq is on his honeymoon with Sukaina”

Almost all of your friends are either tying the knot or having babies. You look at them and tell yourself that you’re in such a better place than them because you’re making your career and becoming independent. And you keep saying all that… till you run out of lies to tell yourself. And it just gets all the more worse when you see an old crush or an ex-flame posting pictures of their new bride or groom. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="350"]

Source: Tumblr[/caption] 2) For some reason, you suddenly miss high school and maybe college. You keep looking at old pictures and feeling nostalgic. Then you tweet them to your friends, saying “Good times, best time.” Then you take out old clothes and try to see if they fit. Sighing long and dramatically, you realise you’ll never be as young, good looking or thin as you were before. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500"]

Source: Rebloggy[/caption] 3) You’re in your 20s and you still don’t know what you want from life or what life wants from you. You’ve done a degree in something else, and you’re working in a field that’s completely different. Everyone still asks you why and you still don’t know how to answer that. You keep switching jobs with the excuse of finding ‘something better’ and you call it versatility. When a child asks you if this is what you always wanted to be, you say “sure it is”, but in your heart, you feel like jamming a fork in your eye. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500"]

Source: Giphy[/caption] 4) You and your old friends still love to gossip about former classmates... and basically everyone. You pass judgements about how other people should live their lives, while you yourself don’t know how to. In fact, when you meet with your old friends, you have absolutely nothing to talk about apart from gossiping or making fun of that one friend who didn’t show up that day. When you still run out of topics, you resort to discussing politics or even worse… the weather. If you have married friends, then it’s even more awkward because you don’t want to hear about their mother-in-law’s kitchen behaviour or how many times their baby poops. And they sure don’t want to hear about how you’re getting a promotion or working on a new project. In such cases, it’s best to talk about ‘other’ people. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500"]

Source: Makemegeek.com[/caption] 5) If you’re constantly gushing about jewels and designer bridal joras, then you, my friend, are unconsciously desperate to get married. You probably thought you’d be hitched by the time you’re in your mid-twenties. And since you’re not, you’re kind of losing it. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500"]

Source: Tumblr[/caption] 6) You have random impulses to do something crazy. You miss the spontaneity you previously had in your life, so you make plans with your friends to go hitchhiking across Europe. You and your friends spend days chatting away about the cool things you could do to feel young. But what you really end up doing is picking them up and going to Flamingo for some chaat. Or maybe meet up for lunch at the same old place you always go. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="400"]

Source: Zap2it.com[/caption] 7) You’re stuck in a rut. You want to take a break, leave work and just chill at home. But you also don’t want to ruin your flow or do anything to hurt your career right now. You feel like you’re in a cage of mundanity and wonder if you’ll ever get out of it. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500"]

Source: Somegifs[/caption] All I can say in the end is its okay. You are not alone in your misery – and as we know – misery loves company; lots of it. So just hang in there, there is an entire generation going through the same cycle.

I was in Pakistan for a few weeks to attend a sibling’s wedding. However, the trip turned out to be longer than expected because of the political situation in the twin cities that led to the cancellation and rescheduling of the wedding a few times. Because of this, many invitees were unable to attend the events. The happy affair turned into a stressful one as the two families tried to get through the logistical nightmare that blockages and the long march had created between Lahore, Rawalpindi and Islamabad. The mehendi was cancelled, the wedding reception was organised at a four-hour notice and the valima was postponed by more than a week. But nothing dampened the spirits of the lovely bride and the groom, which boosted everyone’s mood. The valima dinner menu consisted of palak paneer – curried spinach with cottage cheese – which happens to be a favourite in Pakistan, especially during winters. So here I am, sharing with all of you the recipe of one of my personal favourites. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="538"] Photo: Ambreen Malik[/caption] Ingredients: Spinach/palak – ½ kg (chopped – steam and blend about a kilogram of fresh spinach. I am using frozen but you can use fresh if available) Cottage cheese/paneer – 250 grams (gms) (cut in bite size cubes) Tomatoes – 3 to 4 medium sized (pureed with a green chilli) Green chilli – 1 medium sized Fenugreek/methi seeds – 1 tsp (heaped) Cumin seeds – 1 tsp (crushed) Coriander seeds – 1 tsp (crushed) Dried fenugreek leaves/kasuri methi – 1 tbsp (heaped) Whole dried chillies – 3 Fresh ginger/garlic paste – 1 tsp (heaped) Chilli powder – 1 tsp (adjust to taste) Salt – 1 tsp (adjust to taste) Oil – 4 tbsp Oil – 1 cup (for frying the cottage cheese) [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="537"] Photo: Ambreen Malik[/caption] Method: 1. Heat the oil that is to be used for frying the cottage cheese in a frying pan and fry the cubed cottage cheese until it turns golden brown. Remove on a kitchen paper and set aside. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="536"] Photo: Ambreen Malik[/caption] 2. Heat the rest of the oil (4 tbsp) in a pan and add ginger/garlic paste. Once it becomes golden, add cumin seed, coriander seeds, whole red chillies and fenugreek seeds into the pan and cook for one minute. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="539"] Photo: Ambreen Malik[/caption] 3. Add tomato puree, salt and chilli powder into the pan and mix. Cook until the water dries out completely. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="536"] Photo: Ambreen Malik[/caption] 4. Add spinach to the mixture. Cover and let it thaw for 10-15 minutes. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="536"] Photo: Ambreen Malik[/caption] 5. Add dried fenugreek leaves to the mixture and let the water dry out completely. 6. Add fried cottage cheese cubes to the mixture and mix. Cover for 4-5 minutes over low heat till the stream of oil flows out to the sides. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="540"] Photo: Ambreen Malik[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="537"] Photo: Ambreen Malik[/caption] Palak paneer can be served with boiled rice or homemade flat bread. A simple yet delicious dish that keeps you wanting more. The saltiness of the cottage cheese combined with the freshness and spiceness of the spinach, what more can you ask for. No Pakistani can resist it, that's for sure! This post originally appeared here.

It came as no surprise. It had to happen. Years of pent up anticipation and apprehension had gradually built up momentum and all of it led to this – a nerve wracking walk, downstairs. With adrenaline rush turning my ears into an alien shade of crimson and my heart skipping a beat, rolling in my stomach and jumping to touch my parched palate, I carried my wobbling feet into our drawing room. Crap, that darned rebellious carpet always defying to be straightened out; I tripped but quickly steadied myself before I could fall flat on my face. My mother led a slow sigh, my sister gasped and I am sure he must have smirked. I closed my eyes, inhaled, looked up and said,

“Assalamualaikum”

He was comfortably seated, between his mother and another lady. His sister was sitting on a sofa next to them. This was my panel. I still remember when I was told, Gauhar was coming with his family to see me. Our family celebrated with a tinge of nervousness, elaborate plans were made, a fool-proof menu was agreed upon and even the course of our conversation was mapped out – basically I was told not to blurt out my career aspirations. Don’t judge me. See, Gauhar came from an affluent family, he was a young Chartered Accountant settled in the US and to top that, he was not bald or short! He was quite the opposite; tall, athletic and that perfect smooth hair. Haye. He was every bachelorette’s dream, and mine was so close to materialising. I could almost call it reality. Though starting off on the wrong foot, literally, the conversation gradually picked up a healthy pace. My glorious educational background with an apparent absence of future career plans did the trick. After all, who doesn’t want an over achiever wanting to settle down as a homemaker. This bought me another meeting with him, and this time, it was without the prying eyes of our families. Finally, my eyes could gluttonously feed on his good looks. Calling him a visual treat would be an understatement. He came, dressed casually in flat front grey pants, with a white shirt holding in his well sculptured shoulders, pecs and torso…

Hmmm… Where were we? Ah yes, the coffee shop.

I, with all my social awkwardness, determination to make this happen and insecurity-instilling body dysmorphism, sat across him, smitten. After exchanging pleasantries, we moved straight to business. As an expat, he did not believe in wasting time or beating about the bush so he asked me if I was happy with how things were unfolding.

“Hell yes!”

The next question was am I seeing someone. I quickly turned down the notion, embarrassed by what might have made him ask such a question.

“Good,” he replied.

He was open about his past flings though, none were serious, obviously and hence he was here. This sent down a burning pang of jealousy through my body and I could feel my fingers tingle. Whoa. I reminded myself that the past is past and he is here right now, and of course he had flings – have you seen him?! Besides, girls these days, jeez, so chaalo, their pheromones are flying all over the place. Poor Gauhar. He told me that though he had seen many shades of women, the one that appealed to him most was that of a house wife. He means a home-maker; I sat, silently correcting him. He believed in the wisdom of our culture, where a man is responsible for his wife and as a show of her gratitude, the wife is obedient to her husband. He saw that wife in me. Heart somersaults. After that declaration, I only vaguely remember what he said; I was too busy imagining myself with him on our wedding stage, our honeymoon, our first baby, family vacations etcetera. But if I blur everything out and focus on his voluptuous lips… chasing butterflies now... I remember him telling me his list of expectations. He expected me to dress modestly in public and not so in private. Sati savitri for the world, sexy Susan for him. He told me obesity disgusts him so I need to maintain my figure even after multiple pregnancies. Oh, and he said there were going to be many. I must respect him at all times and never say no to him. I will have to apologise to him, even if I don’t think I am at fault, because I will be at fault; he knows better. I must effectively and immediately break all forms of communication with my male class-fellows and slowly wean my female friends off me. He demands my complete and unadulterated attention. I am his. For him. Lightheaded and slightly out of breath. On a cocktail of his drop dead gorgeousness but obnoxious chauvinistic expectations, societal pressures, my parents’ exponentially growing worries, my career aspirations and America’s greener grass, I felt nauseous. I needed to breathe. A time out. I told him, I need time to process and he will hear my answer, through my parents. He was caught off guard but replied with a smirk that this was his first. He was not expecting defiance after his lecture on submission. However, he said this was a ‘turn on’ because he liked to “tame” rebellious women and I had somehow managed to intrigue him. He was interested now. In me. With all my layers. I went home and obviously said yes. The next few months went by so fast and yet so teasingly slow. I saw some of the happiest, no, the most ecstatically joyous moments of my life, with him in our courtship but I also saw a lot of lows. From skilful flirtation and unabashed admissions of love to baseless paranoia and unnecessary temper tantrums, he was volatile. Combustive. Ready to ignite and consume. In a dichotomous world of yes and no, he was my ‘yes, please’ to ‘are you crazy?’, ‘an effing no’ to ‘maybe’. So I took my chances because somewhere, behind that attractive yet repulsive exterior, I saw a little boy caught between an overtly ambitious mother and a spineless, inaudible father. I needed to bring that boy out and caress his ego, let him know that he is loved, and have him depend on me. It wasn’t easy. Patience is a weapon and so is intimacy – always remember that. I gave up everything from my sense of self, my career, my concept of acceptable and unacceptable. I submitted. Surrendered. Completely and unquestionably. But, only to conquer. And I managed do just that, didn’t I? With flair.

“Who do we hate most?” “Dadi and phuphi.” “Aurat buhat zaalim cheez hai beti, woh apna badla le hi leti hai, nah bhulti hai nah mauf kerti hai” (A woman is an evil creature; she takes her revenge and doesn’t forgive nor forget)

So don’t over think things. When the time is right, a boy will come, wearing an oversized expensive suit. Don’t let him scare you. And in the meantime, wake your dad up and let him know Ma has a headache that only his ilaichi wali, miraculous chai can cure.

Recently, an international journal of psychiatry published a report about a new disease – the ‘Bara Bhai Syndrome’. It was discovered during research workshops held in Pakistan and India. The hallmark of this disease has been described as an extreme preoccupation with the duty of providing care to the family, heightened sense of sacrifice and responsibility, feeling of guilt and premature ageing. While the disease has been found to be more rampant in South-East Asia, thousands of immigrants in developed countries have also tested positive for it. The disease typically affects the first-born male child. However, comparable symptoms can also be exhibited by the only child or the most capable male child in a family, regardless of his position in the family tree. The severity of the symptoms is often directly proportional to the size of the family. The birth of the bara bhai (big brother) is usually associated with a hypomanic episode in the family. Mothers breeze through labour pains, and baby blues are rapidly replaced by baby bliss. Dozens of mithai (sweets) are distributed by the delighted grandparents. The new-born bara bhai is proudly presented to the visitors in a carrycot; like a prince in a royal sedan chair. Bara bhai is absolutely thrilled at such an overwhelming reception and decides to always be a source of joy for his loving family, no matter what it takes; hence the preoccupation with duty of care. In early childhood, the bara bhai would happily share his favourite toys with his younger siblings. If, however, instinctive avariciousness of childhood tries to take the better of him, mommy will scowl at him from a distance and remind him of his ultimate goal:

“Be nice to your siblings. Remember! You are the big brother.”

For the same reason, the conciliatory title of bara bhai would often keep him from kicking back the mischievous younger siblings. But if he gets belligerent at any moment, he is sure to be reprimanded for being callous, despite being a big brother. Also, unless proven otherwise, he is the ‘mastermind’ behind every disaster happening in the playroom, often earning him the worst spanking. Over the years, ‘it must be my fault’ becomes the default setting of his brain; hence the obsession with the feeling of guilt. They often strive for excellence at school and it is drilled into their brains from kindergarten years to be the perfect role models for their little brothers and sisters. They are often seen in the junior section of school trying to keep an eye on their younger siblings during recess. They start driving way before they are legally eligible for it and happily accept the ‘honorary’ job of sibling pick-ups and drop-offs. They don’t mind getting up in the middle of a biryani party to fetch some more yogurt from the corner shop or race to the bakery on their sports cycle to get chicken patties and cake to help mommy entertain the uninvited guests. At puberty, the strength spurt of bara bhai outshines that of his peers and he is often found carrying most of the luggage during a family travel. However, it often becomes hard for him to cope with the testosterone surge, since the risk-taking behaviours associated with this hormone of aggression can stigmatise the family reputation. Staying out with friends till late, rash driving, trying a cigarette or going out with a girl is extremely ‘contagious’ and the bara bhai must abstain from setting up such precedents, or else he will solely be responsible for leading his siblings astray. Therefore, they often leap straight from childhood into adulthood – hence, the symptoms of premature ageing. Their first paid job brings back the same hypomania in the family. But this time, the cuddles and snuggles are often accompanied with ‘a wish list’. From this day on, it would only be them who’d pay whenever the family would dine out and they’d actually get very sensitive if someone else tried to steal the honour. Filling the fuel tank of the family car or paying bills to the cable wala (cable man), akhbar wala (newspaper man) or the paani wala (water man) standing at the gate are small examples of things they would do, without ever being noticed. They often get you the best graduation presents and thoroughly love sponsoring weddings or Hajj pilgrimage for the family. Gradually, depending upon the socio-economic status of the family, bara bhai would take a few or all the financial responsibilities on his shoulders. Some baray bhai go abroad, to study for higher degrees while others go looking for greener pastures, when supply can no longer meet demands. Once there, the little time they are left with after the end of a long day is spent juggling between Skype, Viber and Western Union websites. Their bucket list here contains two things for sure – organising a family trip, and earning them all a foreign passport in the long run. They are told from their childhood that “big brothers don’t cry”; hence, most of them grow into adults who lack verbosity and expression. Whether or not they cry behind closed doors is still unknown, but they certainly toss in bed with pain if any social, medical, financial or emotional calamity befalls their family back home. However, quite ironically, they are still sometimes accused of “going away and abandoning the loved ones”. Although the bara bhai is actively involved in all important decision makings of the family, he leaves the most important decision of his own life in others’ hands – choosing a spouse. He knows that choosing a ‘moon-like’ bride for him is his mother’s ultimate dream and he shouldn’t shatter that at any cost. Whilst baray bhai’s ammi jaan has taken a fancy to her chatterbox niece, adores the silky dark hair of a South Asian Rapunzel she saw at a wedding and is full of awe for the cooking skills of her friend’s daughter, she wouldn’t want to settle for a girl less than an epitome of beauty, brains and domestic skills all at the same time. Quite understandably, the hunt can take a while and in the meantime, if the bara bhai accidently falls in love, he has to make a strategic plan to break the ‘bad news’. It’s a tough time whilst mommy goes through the first four phases of grief – denial, anger, bargaining and depression – before finally arriving at the stage of acceptance. At the time of his marriage, (which usually cannot happen before at least one of his younger sisters is wed-locked), bara bhai is determined to keep a balance, but very soon, as the tug-of-war begins, he feels himself like a new physics student trying to balance a meter rod on the sharp edge of a wedge. In an attempt to please everyone around him, the altruistic big brother often tragically ends up pleasing no one. He feels helpless and dejected, and the only place he finds solace in is in front of the television while he rapidly switches from one channel to another – a temporary sense of control and power to change the things as you wish. Disclaimer: It is a satirical piece and bears no real association to any journal of psychiatry.

My crutches sank deep into the muddy grass, the result of a downpour last night. Without tumbling face first into the mud, I yanked them out— it must have rained until morning because the puddles in the garden could still be seen as the day’s sun was about to set. I managed to make my way to the rocky path. The ashen coloured trail of pebbles led me to a bench overlooking a mesmerising pond. I trotted along the trail down to the bench and sat there with a great sigh. I pulled the magazine out from under my arm and set it down beside me while examining the water in front. I loved sitting on this bench, looking across the pond at life and nature. I saw the water swaying slowly along its way towards the edge of the pond and then back, and the flock of ducklings swimming proudly and following their mother. One of the ducks had trouble catching up and quacked at its mother to wait. It was fascinating to see how wordless creatures were still able to convey their message across. Fall was upon us. The changing colours of the leaves indicated it wasn’t long before the huge oak tree that shadowed my bench would be bare and naked again. I looked up and examined the patterns nature offered me, but not until recently had I begun to appreciate it. My train of thought had taken its toll when I noticed that a woman stepped out from the building I came from and headed my way. I decided to act like I was busy reading the magazine I brought. I could hear the woman inching closer to my area and it wasn’t long before she was in my presence. Her footsteps halted and I broke my gaze from a Mercedes Benz to look into two beautiful crystal blue eyes. A gorgeous face was looking back at me with a warm glow and a soft smile that somehow lit a kindling fire in my heart. I didn’t know what was happening or where this woman came from, but she seemed familiar; like a half recalled memory I just couldn’t remember. It was a moment before we spoke.

“Can I grab a seat here?” she asked.

She pointed at the pond,

“I love the view.”

I happily obliged and pulled the crutches towards myself. She sat down and crossed her legs. I sunk my head back into my magazine, pretending to examine the nifty new features of this Mercedes, only to look at this woman from the corner of my eye.

“What happened to your leg?” she inquired pointing at the cast that wrapped my left leg like a cocoon. “Car accident,” I replied.

Usually people find car accidents fascinating tales to revisit so I told her mine.

“It happened a month ago actually. I totalled my car and ended up here. It’s not too bad. My cast will be off in a few days and I’ll be out of here.” “Oh, so is that why you’re going through a catalogue of cars?” I looked down and saw the shiny Mercedes Benz peering back at me. “Precisely,” I lied.

It would take me years before I could buy this car but she didn’t have to know that. I surveyed her face. There was band-aid concealing a bruise across her forehead and some scratch marks that were healing near her cheek. It only felt right to ask her a question because she asked me one.

“Does your cut have a story too?” I asked jokingly while flashing a smile.

She felt her band-aid on her forehead and chuckled.

“Same story as yours. My accident wasn’t very bad, at least not for me. I was sitting on the passenger side and my husband on the driving seat. He got the worst blow; I was pretty safe to be honest.”

I inspected her left hand and saw the wedding ring sparkling like the water in the pond before us. It felt heart wrenching. I felt further questioning her would build some conversation and we’d have something to talk about other than sitting awkwardly staring at ducks.

“So I guess you’re here because of your husband?” “Oh yes, he’s in ward C. Whenever I visit, I like to come here and sit down, catch some fresh air and escape the dangerously fast world out there. Y’know?”

Her voice cracked in the end, but I knew. The time that I spent in this hospital had really opened up my eyes over what’s important and what’s temporary. This is exactly why I sit here, to regain the composure of my thoughts that the cruel world had damaged.

“Ward C you say? I’m in ward C too. Are you Harry’s wife?”

Harry was my neighbour in ward C. His bed was right next to mine, and we used to chat for hours. He would tell me about his wife and kids, and how someday he’d introduce me to his family.

“No,” she replied.

Her eyes started to water and her voice broke on that one syllable. She pursed her lips while holding back her tears before breaking into a sob and covering her face in her hands. I was confused.

“I’m sorry… um…”

I didn’t know her name. This conversation was turning into a disaster.

“Cathy,” she said. “Cathy, is there anything I can do?”

I didn’t know if I should rest my hand on her back or let her cry like that. I was fighting this dilemma in my head when she gave me a horrifying look. I pulled my hand that was about to rest on her back when I noticed something. A sparkling stone shined on a finger on my left hand that seemed like a wedding ring. I could have sworn it wasn’t there before. She looked at it and then at me. She saw the perplexing look I wore. She touched my ring with her wedding ring. They looked awfully similar to each other.

“You don’t remember, John?”

How did she know my name? My head was hurting almost immediately.

“How do you know my name? Who are you?”

I was startled and my crutches fell.

“The doctor, she said you’d be better. When will you be better John? When will you remember?”

She seemed torn between the ring and me. She had grabbed my hand and her fingers were intertwining with mine.

“I’m tired. Tired of coming here every day hoping to bring you back. You’re here, but you’re not. John please, I want you to come back to me.” “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

I jerked her hand out of mine and was shouting at this point. I don’t remember the last time I had screamed this loud. I don’t remember the last I had been this nervous. I don’t remember the last time my heart beat so fast in a conversation. I don’t remember…

“The accident, John – I was there. We were there. It hit you so hard on the head. Oh God, your head.”

She went into repeated sobs.

“Please come back. Please remember who I am. Please come back to me John. Please…”

I was gasping for air by this point. I heard people hurrying towards us. Two nurses and a guard.

“They’re coming John. Please come back to me. Tell them you’re okay. Tell them you remember, for God’s sake!”

I was losing her. I had no idea what she was saying. The aching pain in my head was soaring towards my eyes. I grabbed my head in my hands but instead of hair, I felt cloth. I was stunned. What was going on? My head was bandaged together tightly to cover up something. An injury, a wound? My vision began to shake. I was losing control over my thoughts and body. I could still hear her though, sobbing, begging – expecting me to come back to some reality. She told me to remember the ring. I didn’t even know how it got there. She asked me to remember our vows. I don’t even remember of making any. The sounds magnified in my head, and I tried to block them out. Every noise pierced my ear, be it the rustling of the leaves or the quacking of the ducks. I opened my eyes to see but I saw nothing; I had become blind. It was all dark. The noises started to fade; it was becoming silent. It all came to a standstill; it all became peaceful… The water in the pond glistened gloomily in the twilight. The ducklings quacked, as they followed their mother around the pond. One of them seemed to be a little slow as it quacked to tell its mother to slow down, which she did. The beauty of language could be seen flowing through these wordless birds somehow able to convey their message across. I peered beside me and saw a woman devastated. She was crying and sobbing with her face in her hands. The chilly autumn wind blew away the hair from her face and she clasped her hands together, revealing her appearance. I saw a gorgeous face looking back at me with a fiery glow but a sad smile. Cheeks wet with tears that had been shed recently. She wiped her tears on her sleeve and looked straight in to my eyes. I stared back into two beautiful crystal blue eyes that seemed to be damp with aching sadness. She looked at me the way the duck looked at her duckling and sat there waiting for something. Something that was slow and not fast enough to catch up perhaps, waiting for her duck to come back to her, just waiting.

Layla and Majnu

“Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great.” – Bussy-Rabutin

He tried really hard to convince his parents, as did She, but sometimes love just isn’t enough. He was Shia, She was Sunni, and the parents on one side were unreasonable. The wedding between them never happened. I saw them suffer silently and loudly, but sadly nothing came of it. They eventually got married to other people, He to a Shia girl 13 years younger than him and She to a rather pleasant professor, and they lived a reasonable albeit unhappy life. Their parents died eventually, as do all parents, but in the process, ensured a joyless existence for their kids. He became an alcoholic, to dull his pain we assume, and every social encounter I’ve had with him since I’ve yet to see him sober. He has two boys of his own and a volatile relationship with his American-Born-Confused-Desi (ABCD) wife. Yes, his wife is a pretty woman but so was She, and like him, She was born and raised in Pakistan, which implies a similar upbringing and hence value system. She appears to be living fine, but I’ve noticed an intrinsic sadness in her. Professor Sahib is a very pleasant man but he’s not Him. This reality is wrong on so many levels and as tragic as it is for He and She, what about their spouses? They deserved a chance at joy too, right? The unreasonable (villainous) mother died eventually, after having witnessed her son’s joyless and drunkard existence. She singlehandedly destroyed countless lives, the obvious ones and the secondary ones; the children on both sides who were born to unhappy parents, the parents of She who saw their daughter go down the path of depression, and many others who may have been damaged due to their connection to He and She.

In a parallel universe, there was Her and Him; their parents knew each other but never liked each other much. Their religion may have been the same but their ethnicities were different and hence the marriage never took place. Him eventually moved cities and married a cousin and as for Her, she never got married. Three decades down and she is still single, why? Because Her and Him are having an affair, yes they are. Her was a Punjabi Rajput from Lahore and Him was an educated UP-wala from Karachi. Her parents said,

“You know we only marry Punjabi Rajputs, right?”

Her reasonable question, “Why, why, why?” got her no reasonable answers. As for Him, his parents were eventually convinced, but it became “izzat ka sawaal” (a matter of respect) for Her parents, hence a blatant ‘no’ from Her side. Him married the pretty cousin, left the country, and 10 years later, had an extra-marital affair with Her, and continues to till today. As for “izzat ka saawal”, I have a need to put forward this question to Her parents, but for now, I’ll curb my enthusiasm. Tragically all of us are acquainted with at least one of the characters in these two ill-fated love stories, yes we are. Our peers growing up, a cousin or two, a best friend, at least one of them fell victim to the perils of ‘samaaj ki devaar’ (societal wall); unfortunate, futile, sad and heart-breaking. For all who have deeply loved another, there is an intrinsic sadness when lovers are torn apart due to unreasonableness and egos of others, may it be parents, siblings, extended family or in some cases, exuberant friends. A report published in the periodical Lost and Found Lovers says that parental disapproval is the most common reason lovers break up and that some parents are actively involved in manipulating a breakup. Let me clarify here that this article is only discussing the occasions where the interference of others, parents included, is egoistical, and is ridden with observing the lovers relationship from a selfish perspective. And the prime example of that is Prince Charles. He was forbidden to marry Camilla, and we all know how that turned out, right? Romeo and Juliet, Shireen and Farhad, Sohni and Mahiwal, Sassi and Punno, to say that history books are riddled with such tales is to say the least, and if truth be told, many young hearts still suffer the same fate. The societal wall is the obstacle that prevents the two in love from being united; the wall can be an emotional cage or a forced physical separation, due to distance, time, space or conservative, liberal and egoistical values on either side. In cinema and on television, this metaphorical wall is often represented as a physical wall where the protagonist and her or his love interest are seen pressing their foreheads on the exact spot on the wall, but on opposite sides. At the risk of sounding scientifically cheesy, the Mayo Clinic newsletter says that broken heart syndrome is a real disease,

“Broken heart syndrome is a temporary heart condition that is often brought on by stressful situations, such as the death (or permanent separation) of a loved one. People with broken heart syndrome may have sudden chest pain or think they’re having a heart attack. In broken heart syndrome, there’s a temporary disruption of your heart’s normal pumping function, while the remainder of the heart functions normally or with even more forceful contractions. Broken heart syndrome may be caused by the heart’s reaction to a surge of stress hormones. The condition may also be called takotsubo cardiomyopathy, apical ballooning syndrome or stress cardiomyopathy by doctors. The symptoms of broken heart syndrome are treatable, and the condition usually reverses itself in about a week.”

The physical condition may reverse but what about the emotional baggage? Hence we come to our next discussion, is social pain, in this case of permanent separation from the love interest, and physical pain exactly the same? Research suggests that social pain may actually be much worse in the long term, a burn wound is painful in the moment but that pain will subside eventually while the memory of lost love lingers forever. Association by Psychological Science (APS) recently published an article titled ‘Psychologists have discovered the neural link between social and physical pain’ by Eric Jaffe. According to the article, Purdue University recently demonstrated this difference in a series of experiments. During two self-reports, people recalled more details of a lost love than a past physical injury and also felt more pain in the present, even though both events had been equally painful when they first occurred. During two cognitive tests, people performed a tough word association task significantly more slowly when recalling emotional pain than when recalling physical pain. There is a bright side to the new line of research linking social and physical pain. Recently, a group of psychologists at the University of Kentucky tested whether acetaminophen, key ingredient in pain relievers such as Tylenol, could relieve the pain of emotional distress as effectively as it relieves bodily aches. Studies suggested that painkillers normally used to relieve physical aches and pains can also, at least temporarily, mitigate social pain related distress. Hence there is much truth in the reality that love hurts, emotionally and physically, and separation of people in love due to frivolity and a lack of understanding of society is unjustifiable and plain tragic. Question being, is it fair and right? No, it isn’t. So next time you see someone breaking up a relationship and the reason is not good enough, tell the tale of Layla and Majnu, and make a choice to be the voice of reason. It sounds cheesy, yes, but remember, the best love stories are always the ones with a happy ending.

From discussing Reham Khan’s wedding dress and their possible honeymoon destination, to talking about every little detail one can possibly discuss about a wedding, our media has moved on to more mature current affairs. US Sectary of State John Kerry ate a doughnut. He did not just eat a doughnut, he ate a doughnut in Islamabad. There is a difference in the above two statements because the latter is crucial to Pak-US relations and strategic dialogue. Yes, eating doughnuts is central to developing mutually-beneficial foreign policies. https://twitter.com/JohnKerry/status/554872881591906305 However, the major question on all our minds right now is, did he eat doughnuts in India? And if he did, did he like them? We, as a nation and an enthusiastic online community, have reacted to this ground-breaking news with emotion and genuine concern for our country’s foreign affairs. Here are some of our most pressing concerns: https://twitter.com/mirza9/status/554885889373925379 https://twitter.com/MaryamNSharif__/status/555059329150119936 I feel you, Maryam. Really I do. This next gentleman underestimated the Pakistani media: https://twitter.com/deblind_/status/554887239314833408 Well Sir, what do you have to say for yourself now? https://twitter.com/ShireenMazari1/status/555236292288847872 https://twitter.com/Raheel_/status/554910439516413952 https://twitter.com/omar_quraishi/status/554946436891037696 Aloha, You Ess of AYYYE! Here we come!! https://twitter.com/ZaidJilani/status/554873368785465344 https://twitter.com/bilalchd/status/554885683039330306 https://twitter.com/arketex/status/554876701847470081 The last tweet says it all, we have managed to please the US. In light of this news, if Obama decides to visit Pakistan, PM Nawaz Sharif can proudly claim,

“In your face, Modi! My doughnuts bring all the boys to the yard, damn right they’re better than yours!”

Ringing in the New Year with a resolution to become healthy? Try not to be like the 85% of people who do no more than make a couple of gym visits every January. Trying to get fit is both smart and fashionable – ‘skinny’ just doesn’t cut it anymore. Crash diets are a bad idea because they stifle your metabolism and eventually you end up actually gaining weight. It’s important to make changes in your lifestyle to embrace a healthier, happier you. Apart from just eating healthy, regular exercise and training are required as well. We’ve noticed the ‘fit’ trend picking up in Karachi with more and more restaurants, gyms and fitness programmes opening up for the health conscious. There are now quite a few healthy eating options around town. Here we’ve tried to make your life a little easier by listing the top five gyms in Karachi that you should seek to make your second home. If you’re not a gym buff, there are loads of classes out there from Bollywood dancing to Pilates, as well as various sports teams. Check out some of the top gyms in Karachi: 1. Studio X One of the first, quality gyms to open up in Karachi, Studio X brings with it a team of highly trained fitness instructors that schedule a variety of different fitness classes. A membership at Studio X makes it easily possible to start aerobics, Pilates, kickboxing and boot camp all under one roof. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Studio X Facebook page[/caption] 2. Structure Health and Fitness At Structure, you will find spa massage therapy, a sauna and a jacuzzi, making it a relaxing place to detox and recuperate after an intense workout. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Structure website[/caption] 3. Shapes Ideal for the residents of Clifton and Korangi, Shapes provides convenient access to a state-of-the-art fitness centre. Complete with a swimming pool and jogging track, the calming environment of Shapes is the best getaway after a long day’s work. With new avails and discounts through a credit card membership, becoming a member and using the gym is now as easy as swiping a card. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Shapes website[/caption] 4. Core The latest gym to open up its second branch in town at Ocean Mall is Core. It has a cycling studio and a boxing ring! The much awaited opening is bound to increase traffic to the mall. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Core Facebook page[/caption] 5. Lifestyle Having two branches in Defence, Lifestyle has stuck around the last 14 years as the go-to gym for many in Karachi. If you're looking for individual attention, you'll find some of the best fitness trainers here. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Lifestyle Facebook page[/caption] So stop postponing your fitness plans and hit one of these gyms as soon as you can. Start the new year with a new you, as the cliché goes. This post originally appeared here.

The coverage of Sharmila Farooqi’s nuptials on national media and the hype associated with it had all the hallmarks relevant for a royal fairy tale wedding. The glorification of the ceremony, pictures of opulence and extravagance, and a happy couple starting a new phase – the event represented everything good in life. Unfortunately, these were pictures of beautiful dresses and lavish feasts set in the backdrop of an impoverished country. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Aysha Saleem[/caption] This is not the first political wedding on which the national media went gaga. A couple of months ago, we had the Imran and Reham Khan wedding madness, that too just a couple of weeks after the horrible Peshawar tragedy. The wedding topped off months long anti-government protests which ended without achieving any of the intended initial goals. Nonetheless, despite the failure, Imran’s life turned for good. The problem for me with all this wedding hoopla is that these politicians have already permeated almost every aspect of our daily lives and now, it seems, they are even encroaching on our social space. Can one even look away from them? Let me start of by saying that Pakistani politicians enjoy far greater amount of media time and attention than their counterparts in most other countries of the world. They are the equivalent of both Hollywood and the National Football League (NFL) combined – the glamour of one united with the swagger of the other. Along with all of this goes the intoxicating amount of power at their disposal. In a developing country with little transparency and weak watchdogs, the power is not only there to be used but also to abuse. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Sindh CM Qaim Ali Shah and Shama Mithani. Photo: Aysha Aaleem[/caption] Did I mention that they are as rich as the Bill Gates of a poor country? Of the top five richest people in Pakistan, one is the current prime minister and other is the former president. Hence, from rock stars to intellectuals, from riches to fame, the incredible strangle hold of the Pakistani political elite on this penurious nation is remarkable. Very few are as lucky as the ‘chosen’ ones in Pakistan. And then we have events like this Cinderella-wedding topping it off. The question that begs to be asked is, since they dominate our social landscape, should they serve as role models for us to follow? Many politicians have corruption charges against them. Sharmila Farooqi’s father, Usman Farooqi, was charged with corruption and embezzlement of a whopping Rs195 billion. It was finally the National Reconciliation Ordinance (NRO) that brought respite to the family among many others. Corruption aside, competence too is not their biggest virtue. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Aysha Saleem[/caption] Only recently we observed the joking and jesting on cyclone Nilofar in the Sindh Assembly. The speaker of the house finally ended the discussion by claiming that a certain sacred shrine will save the city from any storm. In any other democratic country of the world, this attitude would have led to a major shake down. In our country, it was hardly news. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x28rwqg_agha-siraj-durrani-makes-light-of-cyclone-nilofar_news [/embed] Spare a thought for a moment here for the average Pakistani – the judicious law enforcer, the public prosecutor or the honest teacher who, despite day to day hurdles and difficulties, does his job honestly. Who witnesses this intimidating mixture of power, fame and wealth play on and off the screen on a regular basis but sticks to his principles. Who must have been told clichés like “no one will get caught” and that “this is Pakistan” countless times by people around him with the following words of advice,

“Why don’t you get something out of it for yourself?”

What must that man, if he even exists, be thinking today! What would be going on in his mind after watching these Disney weddings? Maybe he too now would understand the raging cynicism surrounding him and might be ruing missed chances of not making hay while the sun was shining. The problem is not that Pakistani politicians are corrupt. The problem is not that they are incompetent, break the law themselves and abuse their power. I am sure that it must happen in a lot of other countries of the world too. The problem here is that after all this, they go on to stick it in people’s faces by jeering, mocking and flaunting smiling pictures, wearing beautiful wedding dresses. By having a happy ending regardless of the results! [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="400"]

Photo: Aysha Saleem[/caption] The Farooqi story too, it seems, will have a happy ending like so many others do, thanks to the NRO, reconciliation and saving of democracy. Member of the provincial assembly and former advisor to the chief minister of Sindh, Farooqi’s life has turned for good. I wish her the best of luck for the future! I only wonder though, when will the ‘good guy’ get to ride into the sunset in Pakistan?

Before you wrinkle your eyebrows in a ‘holier-than-thou’ frown and judge my very existence, let me assure you that this blog is not a preaching of what you should or should not do. This blog is based on mere observations of human relationships and a concept that defines our lives in so many ways – shaadi (marriage). I was familiar with this word at a very young age. But it was at the age of six when my brother (eight-years-old then) told me something that freaked me out. In sheer exasperation, that only an older brother can have, he said,

“I can’t wait till we marry you off so that you’re not around to annoy us anymore.” “I’ll still be here,” I said. “No, you’ll be living at your husband’s house. You won’t live with us forever.”

I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to say that the ground beneath my little feet shook as I came to realise he was serious. I did what any six-year-old would do, I burst into tears.

“What? No. How is that possible? Husband? I can’t leave my house, this is where I live. Why would you say that? Ama Baba will never let me leave! They won’t let me go, I’m their daughter. Will you leave too when you get married?”

These were the questions I somehow managed to word out. With regret on his face, my brother apologised and calmed me down. He explained that every girl has to leave her parents’ house after marriage. He explained how our mom lives with us and our dad and not with Nana Nani (maternal grandparents). He said just like she left her house to live with her husband, I will have to as well. That was my first reality check. Marriage isn’t all fun and games; it is something that takes you away from all the things you love. It’s better for boys; their lives pretty much stay the same. But for girls, your entire life will change. Since then I began to observe our society. I observed married people and their actions. As a student of psychology, I analysed their verbal and non-verbal cues, signs of distress, facial expressions and body language. While people my age ventured into relationships and ‘dating’, I became that one friend who gave the best relationship advice and who knew what to do despite never being in a long-term relationship. Years later, today, I have developed an aversion to the concept of shaadi. People shouldn’t get married and here are my reasons. Once again, these reasons are based solely on observations. The institution No, I don’t believe the institution of marriage is flawed. Since the beginning of time, through religion, culture and society, people were to find a partner to spend their lives with, in holy matrimony. Marriage was a sacred bond; legends and epic tales are proof of the sacredness of this union. Today in our times, however, this institution has lost its sacredness because people stopped respecting the bond itself. It became a ritual performed because ‘we have to’. Parents took it upon themselves to get their children married to the most suitable partners. Consumerism increased the need of more rituals, a need to display the union to the world along with a desire to compete, boast and beat others at it. Shaadi no longer means marriage, it means wedding. Our generation The generations before ours (our parents, grandparents, etc) had a different meaning of relationships than we do. For them, it was all about compromise and fixing things. They are the kind of couples who go through hell and still stick together. I’m sorry but I don’t think our generation has what it takes to tolerate and be with each other through thick and thin. The rising divorce rates back up this argument. We, the youth, are conditioned to be independent and free thinkers. What we read, learn and watch (through the media) has evolved us into accepting individualism. We rebel against the system, question norms and think out of the box – that is what our generation is. There is nothing wrong with these qualities but perhaps it is these qualities that cause problems in relationships. When both the partners are so opinionated and do not have the ability to compromise or sacrifice their own needs and wants for the other, then how is a relationship supposed to work? They call us the resilient generation, well resilience also counts for our ability to move on and bounce back when a relationship ends, so perhaps that’s why we don’t try to fix relationships and work on them the way our parent or grandparents did. Divorce is no longer taboo; if we can’t stand someone anymore, we leave or think of leaving. Sexist time bomb Our society is extremely sexist to BOTH the genders, especially when it comes to marriage. Not only does a girl have to leave her home, her room, her parents and her freedom to move in with her husband, she also has a constant psychological ‘tick-tock’ on her head since the day she turns 20. Trust me, this tick-tock is a constant nuisance hanging over heads. There is so much that I want to do with my life. I want to study, work, build a career, travel the world, and write a book! To this argument, I am told by everyone,

“So, no one is stopping you. You can do all of this after your shaadi.”

Agreed that you can study after marriage and work post-shaadi but what about the other things? Will my husband have the patience to let me be locked in my room writing for most of the day? Will he be fine if I want to focus on my career for five years and not have children? And boys don’t have it too easy either. While a boy gets to live in his own home with his parents after shaadi (lucky son of a gun), he also faces the constant tick-tock. He is told he has to complete his entire education, build his career and get settled at least by mid or late 20s so that he can ‘afford’ to have a wife and family. I really don’t think that’s fair. The pressure of getting the best job and high-figure salary can be really stressful. What if he wants to become an artist or travel, things that won’t get him the money he needs. What about his dreams? Marriage is a full-stop to our dreams. They say we can pursue them after shaadi but who are we kidding? Shaadi changes people During the pre-nuptial period, everyone is on their best behaviour. Not just the couple but the families of both treat each other like royals. It is all about gifts, wedding preparations and impressing each other. It is only after the shaadi that everyone becomes comfortable with each other and reveals their true selves. Mother-in-laws, who before the wedding sang praises of how perfect their bahus (daughter-in-laws) are, begin to mentally make a list of all the things their bahu does wrong and how awful she is. The bahu suddenly sits, walks, cooks and breathes in the wrong way. For the bahu, she begins to see her mother-in-law as nothing less than Cruella De Vil. Every single person in both families feels responsible and overly concerned about the couple and their relationship. They become mediators and judges even though no one asks them too. The boy and girl gradually begin to change into constantly irritable, annoyed and bezaar (fed up) human beings. Stress levels increase, tempers boil and each day, the ability to tolerate each other reduces. These are some of my reasons (I have many more) of why people shouldn’t get married and why I won’t (till my parents have had enough of my excuses). I have seen and heard of so many couples getting divorced (many who were deeply in love with each other), people cheating, families turning against each other, children fighting with parents, people ending relationships in a blink of an eye. I have heard of khalas (maternal aunts) turned mother-in-laws, physically abusing the bahu. I have heard of a man throwing his wife out on the street a week after their love marriage. I have heard of in-laws kicking the girl out because she couldn’t produce a son. I have heard of enough shaadi horror stories to loathe the entire concept. If this is what holy matrimony and relationships come to then thank you very much, but I’m better off.

I recently got into an argument over class, status and ranks – the superficial boundaries that divide our society. And the greatest regret coming from it was the fact that even the most educated minds are still so deeply woven into these concepts that it provokes the irrationale amidst me. I grew up with four kids who did not belong to my class; they were children of my ‘maid’ who I lovingly call my second mom. When I was growing up, the word ‘maid’ and ‘nokar’ was prohibited in my household. She was known as ‘Baji’, who helped us around the house, and her children were treated like any of us. And I loved that about my house. We were like a family, her children were my closest friends and we played together as sisters, roaring around the house and never letting the society bind us into factions and classes. We all went to school, got scolded by our parents, went to the same ‘qari sahib’ and ate the same treats. But as I grew older, things began to change. Not in any way concerning us children, but the parents. The same parents who taught me that we were all equals and one started reneging on their end of the deal. Class, status, ranks, kinds, types erupted midair so much so that covering my ears just to eliminate the rugged noise these arguments made became the final resort. The most recurrent of those debates was the fact that these kids of ‘maids’ could not find their perfect match now that they were educated and the usual ‘rishtas’ they would’ve gotten, had they not been educated, would either be too low or those potential candidates would find these children too ‘high-maintenance’. So surprisingly, the literate elite come up with a ‘logical/rational’ solution: Stop encouraging the idea of education within these children. Wow. The first time I heard this, I was flabbergasted. My world shook because all the lessons I had been taught since birth, suddenly they all seemed to vanish. The very same people who had taught me one thing were posing a solution contradicting the former principles to the very core. As a child, my favourite memories, my favourite meals, my favourite people, all these came alongside Baji and her four wonderful daughters. I was the oldest so I taught them to dream big and be ambitious, I taught them the importance of education and how we, women, specifically needed to be independent and strong before we even thought of indulging in relationships that go beyond the parental-sibling kind. I may sound naïve to many of you, and I probably am, but how in the world can their ‘class’ and ‘status’ be improved if they’re left behind in education and jobs upon the mere, probably correct, notion that they might not find suitable spouses. Am I to blame for teaching them the norms of my ‘class’ that we were meant for and deserved more than what we were born with? Am I to believe that just because she was born in a poorer family than I was, she does not deserve the right to education and breaking those shackles constricting her? I am sorry but I refuse to believe this. We are what we become, our dreams, passions and ambitions define us, our will to excel marks our paths but, most of all, it is our sincerity and our belief that leads us forward. So I say this now, let the children of your maids excel alongside your kids, erase the boundaries that have made them poor, so every upcoming generation is better than the former, and when they’re done with their education, you make it your onus to find them worthy spouses because they deserve it, for the hard work and dedication they have mustered to build themselves up. A great man is not one who is born with the luxuries and comforts of life, rather the one who strives and struggles to attain the best he can, and that is exactly what we must teach every child in our society today.

Marriage comes with its own set of doubts and insecurities. You might have heard it on the news, you might have seen it happen with someone you know – there are many stories about failed marriages all around us. Stories about how families have been fooled in the name of this sacred bond and have lost their life’s worth of savings. The increasing statistics about marriages being broken due to infidelity, fraud by the in-laws, husbands being abusive or having prior criminal record, paint a horrible picture of marriages in our country. The divorce rate has reached an alarming level and this is because marriage is a delicate relationship, which a single lie can cause a crack in. Two in every 10 families are getting fooled by their prospective in-laws and therefore deception and fraud in families has become commonplace. In Pakistan, 50 per cent of women from the urban areas acknowledge that their husbands beat them up. Unfortunately, many of these women can’t get out of these relationships because they are afraid of the reaction of their families. Getting a divorce or leaving your husband is considered an offence to the ‘honour’ of families in Pakistan, which in some unfortunate cases results in the heinous act of honour killing. According to the statistics provided by The Aurat Foundation, there were at least 1,636 honour killings cases reported in 2012. How are people deceiving each other in the name of marriage? Parents, who want to get their children married off, knock on the doors of marriage bureaus and often get shammed. These bureaus and their fleecing has become a common issue in the country. One such case happened in Muzaffargarh, Multan, where a young girl was found to be involved in the scam of marrying 23 grooms. She was part of a gang which was running a fake marriage bureau and their scheme was to get the girl married to well-off men through fake nikkah rituals and have the grooms bear all the wedding expenses. After the wedding, the girl would steal all their jewels and money. However, this girl was caught in one such con and the details came to light. The quest to find a perfect match for their daughters is every parent’s concern. They look for opportunities to get their daughter married to overseas Pakistanis but quite often, these marriages take unpleasant turns. Such is the story of Aqila, who was married off at the age of 18 to a British Pakistani. After two years, her in-laws allegedly took her to Pakistan and left her outside her parent’s house, without her consent, her passport and her new born baby. Another similar case is of Saira Rani, a British woman of Kashmir origin, who was murdered allegedly by her husband. The couple had a four-year-old child and were going through many marital problems. The husband went to Pakistan and called her there, claiming he wanted to work things out between them. When Saira reached Pakistan, her husband killed her on their way home to Mirpur and later confessed that he killed his wife to put a final end to their marital problems. In Pakistan, many parents feel helpless when it comes to protecting their children from such instances. They feel worthless when they witness the physical, verbal, psychological and emotional abuse of their daughters at the hands of their husbands. The repercussion of such persecution is detrimental; sometimes threatening the very life of the wife. For instance, Poonam Bibi in Gujranwala committed suicide because her husband taunted her for not being able to produce a child. An arranged nuptial is when families choose partners for their children. However, often they do not initiate an interaction between the to-be-wed couple and this makes the girl and the boy feel like they are marrying a stranger. Often, in such compelling situations, where the person in question is not happy with the wedlock arranged, he/she decides to run away or getting rid of their other half, and end up complicating matters further. So how you can save yourself from this risk? Marriage is said to be one of the major events of our lives but have we ever given it a thought as to why this is so? There is a general belief that life changes after marriage but it’s uncertain whether the change will be for the better or for the worse. When you agree to wedlock, you’re agreeing to spend the rest of your life with one person. But how can you do that if you do not know them at all? Whether you’re tying the knot for love or to just start a family, getting married is not so easy. To find a perfect match, you have to look at attributes like family background, educational qualifications, the personality of the person and much more. But how can they be truly verified? Amidst deceptions all around us, a successful marriage depends on how you work on your relationship after the nuptials. However, it also depends on how you screen your potential partner. Before uncertainties cloud your mind, do some research and try to find out more about the person you are to get hitched to. The aforementioned incidents show that it’s better to be vigilant and pre-marital screenings can help reveal hidden truths about your prospective life partner. The screening includes background checks, criminal records, employment records and behaviour checks. These will give you a clearer picture of the person you are to tie the knot with and will help you make one of the most important decisions of your life. Hopefully, the right decision!

Shaheena called her friend at 3am, crying bitterly; she was totally devastated. She told her friend that the boy she was in a relationship with for the last 15 months had gotten engaged to his cousin and was getting married. Shaheena had endured break-ups before in her life. Twice, with two different boys. This time, however, she was having a hard time coming to terms with the end of this particular relationship. She was stuck with all the memories of her relationship; the endless check-ins from their favourite eateries, the selfies, little gifts, late night chat history stored in her phone and the cute Snapchat posts. She had a habit of getting into relationships, one after the other, hoping that the boys would marry her and she would live happily ever after. It is painful to see young girls, like Shaheena, taking upon themselves the task of finding ‘Mr Right’ who they can marry and ensure eternal happiness. I have witnessed many cases in which the girls end up paying heavy prices that include emotional trauma and heartbreak. Speaking of Mr Right, who conveniently disappears after a certain period of time, here are some popular ones: 1. Mr Misogynist/Hypocrite

“Shaheena? Oh! She has had several boyfriends. I don’t want a girl who has been involved with guys in the past and has pictures with all kinds of boys on her Facebook, to represent my family.”

Okay! But you also have pictures with a lot of girls on your Facebook profile!

“Meri baat aur hai, main larka hoon.” (It is different in my case. I am a guy)

Welcome to hypocrisy! 2. The victim

“Maham? Umm well. Actually she seduced me. I was not really interested in her. ”

Seriously? Because it is THAT easy for you to be ‘seduced’, right? It’s not like you ever responded to her or pursued her, right? 3. Mr Vulnerable

“Well, she would text me at odd hours of the night. I got carried away, and then I could not stop,” said one of them with an innocent look on his face.

Yes, that’s because you did not want to miss out on the chance of having fun in the guise of a relationship! 4. Mr No Scene I told her,

“Aisa koi scene nai hai (It is nothing like that), but she did not understand.”

This sort is seen with a new girl each quarter of the year. He is popular on Facebook, looks handsome and tells every girl that she is ‘the one’ and many girls choose to believe him and get involved. 5. Mr Chicken around family

“My parents did not agree,” said a fairly mature bachelor, with a respectable job.

This sounds more like an excuse. Parents in general do not agree to love marriages, we all know that. But why did you start a relationship in the first place when you knew you couldn’t stand up for it? Then, he casually said,

“Larki ke liye kon ghar walon se panga ley!” (Who wants to get into a conflict with their family over a girl?)

Let’s be clear on this. If he cannot stand up for you, he is neither prince charming nor Mr Right for you. Though he did not miss the opportunity to date and flirt. 6. The womaniser

“Why get married when I can enjoy the company of various women by staying unmarried. I am still young to be settling down now.”

This kind is very smooth and actively moves on to opening the door to his brand new Corolla for a brand new dreamy-eyed girlfriend, who he soon plans on dumping. 7. Mr Just Friends Often heard saying,

“I have had really good female friends but I never promised marriage to anyone. I was always straight up on what I can do and what I cannot.”

This kind never has a purely platonic relationship with any of his ‘female friends’ which is why the girls hope that the friendship might change into a commitment/relationship. My dear naïve girls, not all guys who are supportive and caring will fall in love with you and give you a happy future. Your secret crush on them will result in dire consequences. Keep your self-esteem and respect high and intact; otherwise you are in for heartbreak. You are risking yourselves if you make yourselves readily available to every Tom, Dick or Harry out there. Remember, love is a cherished, beautiful emotion and deserves the utmost respect and dignity. A guy who truly loves and cares for you would never hurt you. He will be open, never be secretive or hide information from you, and will not have bad intentions towards you. He will avoid demanding endless dates or uploading your pictures on social media. He will keep you safe, never treat you as a showpiece to show off to his friends, and stand up for you at all times. He will know that you are precious and the relationship is meant to be kept at a dignified level. He will respect you, never manipulate or take undue advantage of your love and attention. If he doesn’t think you’re the best thing to happen to him, he doesn’t deserve you. Girls also end up making wrong choices because of the pressure they receive from their families, especially mothers. Despite being sensible, young ladies with no desire to engage in any such relationship, they do so because their families continuously pressurise them. I remember this one time where a mother, after looking at the handsome groom at a wedding function of her daughter’s friend, asked her daughter,

“Where did they find this excellent rishta (marriage proposal)?”

The daughter replied,

“Ammi, they worked together.”

To this, the mother responded,

“Tum kia andhi ho? Office mey tumhain larkey nazar nai aatey?” (Are you blind? Why can’t you find guys at work?)

The families need to understand that by pressurising their daughters and constantly reminding them of a ticking marriage clock, they are inadvertently pushing them towards heartbreak, rejection and humiliation. I agree that maybe one, two or even quite a few, of the girls have found great matches from their college or work circles, but that does not mean we make it a practice and follow it blindly. It is a risky path and might cost them a lot more than just heartbreak. Remember, not all frogs turn into princes. Somehow, girls are wrongfully convinced that their ultimate happiness lies in the arms of some prince charming. The blame lies with fairy tales and chick flicks, as these works of fiction have instilled impractical ideas of ‘prince charming’ and ‘happily ever after’ in our daughters’ minds from a very young age. Inner peace and happiness comes from within. Girls need to believe in their own abilities, strengths and focus on developing themselves as accomplished individuals. Then, not only a Mr Right but the entire world will be theirs. The original version of this post appeared here.

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