The ads

I am sure most Indian women of my age knows about the ads.
22 year old, young, wheatish complexion( what in the world is that? Why would my skin colour matter?) recently graduated from such and such University, seeks suitable groom.

My parents used my cousin who was reputed to have written the most brilliant marriage ads..
Most brilliant here equals to total number of responses, not suitable responses, just the number of letters the poor post man had to carry.

I too had the ads placed in all the paper. My parents wanted to cast a wider net that meant not only Malayala Manorama, but also the other english dailies.

I remember checking the paper to read what my uncle wrote about me and it felt so funny. I felt he was describing an orange or an apple, not me. There was nothing about me as a person.My likes, my dislikes..nothing..
I was just a woman, ripe for marriage and all everyone wanted was to dump me on to someone's shoulder. the rest was up to me.
To make it work..it was my job.
To make the marriage work! it was always the woman's job.

There were plenty of responses to the ad in the paper.. I was in demand
After all i was wheatish complexioned and had a damn good degree..
I am a 'good mother' material..good genes!!!
Aunts and uncles were involved in the initial pickings.
Those outside our religious affiliations were rules out
Then the geographic location. Men from this part of kerala was better that ones from that part.
Finally the list was narrowed down to 20.
Then the trouble started.
I refused to do the tea ceremony!!
Again I wasn't a cattle to be displayed to prospective buyers and I refused to play by the rules.
If there was someone who wanted to marry me, he could meet me at the place where i worked, if we liked each other, then we can proceed further.
I remember my mother howling.
My father was sure, it was all my mother's fault. She didn't raise me well. If she raised me properly, then i would have dolled out in a neat saree, pretended to be gentle and pious and served tea to each prospective groom and his family!!
No one out of the 20 short listed wanted to see me at my place of work!
they were all goody two shoes. They didn't want a feminist.
They wanted a traditional woman with traditional values
They wanted a cattle.
I wasn't one.
I never was.
So i thought