Disclaimer: mom, please don’t fly all the way to India to chase me with rolling pin because I’m making this public. Remember that I’m your only kid.
Let’s start with my mom
 |
| My mom before she got married |
My maternal grandfather was a very compassionate man who was ahead of his time in many aspects. He dedicated his life to civil service and diplomacy, and eventually not-for-profit organizations that were aimed at increasing development and curbing corruption. What does surprise me, however, is why such a man never pushed his daughters to be financially independent before being married. I asked him this question almost a decade ago, and he replied with “they didn’t really show an inclination to want to pursue higher studies so I never pushed them—it was their choice.” I never asked him “financial independence shouldn’t be a choice, should it?” I mean, they sure as heck made sure my uncle went to a good boarding school, received an undergrad degree from a prestigious university, and eventually pursue an MBA. But with her daughters, my grandmother’s attitude went along the lines of ‘sure you can study if you want to, but we’ll find nice husbands for you so you don’t really need to study any further because you won’t need two incomes.’ They were, in essence, a very traditional but also very gentle household—people speak to each other very sweetly, no one raises their voice too much, and ‘please and thank you’ is a must.
In my mom’s case, she never excelled in school—and in her words “was always looking for an excuse to skip school.” She also gave her private tutors much grief as did one of my aunts. A Nepali language tutor for both of them once said to my grandfather “I can take J, but M, I just cannot teach her anymore.” I do believe that my grandfather didn’t push education (on my mom at least) because he truly believed that she was incapable of it.
Today, if I were to tell my parents that “who cares about getting a job, I’m just going to find me a man who can take care of me forever,” they’d kick my butt. They raised me to believe that when it comes to financial independence, you have no choice.
To my grandparents’ credit, they did find four amazing grooms for their daughters. But still…there was never a guarantee that my dad and uncles would turn out to be so amazing.
Moving onto my dad
 |
| My dad before he got married |
My dad’s family was different, and to an extent, much more grounded in reality. A large joint family composed of my grandfather and two of his brothers, there was always a constant rush of people moving in and out, speaking loudly, children playing in the background—you get the idea.
Although my dad’s two sisters were married off quite early at 19 and 20, they still had the compulsion to pursue higher education. Both my dad’s sisters are master’s degree holders and both completed their degrees after getting married. And they didn’t give their tutors grief—their disciplinarian was my dad! It’s so hard to think of my dad as a disciplinarian, hehe. He’s the guy who spent hours reading me some god awful Noddy stories (that I absolutely enjoyed) every night before bed.
I remember my younger aunt telling me once that my dad told her to change her clothes because they were too inappropriate and in his words “no one will marry you if you wear clothes like that in public.” What were these offensive clothes? Stretch jeans. She found the story amusing because he’s never once told me what I can and cannot wear. He's also never told my mom what she can and cannot wear (she'd probably chase him with a rolling pin if he did), in fact, it's always the other way around. I found it absolutely shocking! I hadn’t expected my dad to harbour such archaic feudalistic attitudes, even if it was decades ago. My aunt didn’t seem to mind as she felt that he was simply protecting her as a brother should.
So how did they get married?
My mom was 24 when my grandparents started scouting potential grooms for her, a few years older than the average arranged bride. She had rejected a few offers before on the grounds that the men were too short, too dark, too fat or a combination of these qualities. [She’ll kill me for sure]. And then she stumbled upon my dad’s picture—my dad, at his prime, was considered quite good looking by South Asian standards. As in, lots of people would say ‘hey, he looks a bit like a foreigner and not a Nepali.’ But he always had this thick hideous moustache that was definitely South Asian so there wasn’t any real confusion. So anyway, my mom took a look at the picture and approved, despite his moustache. My grandparents were happy because my dad came from a ‘good family.’
Let me side track here to explain the concept of a ‘good family’ in the culture pertaining to my particular ethnic background. Good family means people who are known to be ethical people—no cases of corruption (a heck of a lot of people from my ethnic background are in civil service in Nepal—so corruption cases ran rampant), no scandals, no disputes in general, and so on. These qualities are seen as honourable, and honour trumps money.
This was a good thing because my dad’s family wasn’t particularly rich. My dad’s father was the youngest son in his family, so therefore, he didn’t inherit too much. He also retired from his government civil service job because he wanted to learn and teach yoga. My dad was working in a government firm as an engineer. Government jobs in Nepal pay jack $hit, but they are seen as prestigious when compared to private jobs because private jobs, at that time, were seen as ‘working for someone.’ Don’t ask me, the logic doesn’t make sense to me either. My driver in Gurgaon today makes significantly more money than my dad did as a government engineer then AFTER accounting for inflation.
My dad, on the flip side, was happy that my mom came from a family with more connections than his. It also helped that he thought she was pretty. I think they had once chaperoned outing with minimal conversation before they were married.
So what happened then?
Umm…this post got seriously long. And I think I’d have to get the green light from my mom before I write further.
