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Love marriages

Go for a love marriage, at least for the story! Every love story is so beautiful and inspiring, filled with dedication, passion, and of course, gallantry. It’s a world apart from arranged marriages, where you sit across the table and decide if the person is "worthy" or not. It often feels like a bargain deal.

I’ve sat at that table too, wondering if I was "worthy." It’s always the man and his family who get to make the final call, while the woman and her family have no say in the matter. The man, his best friend then, and family are served the best snacks from the nearest bakery, while the woman has to act shy and reserved. Her family will sing her praises—things she may never have heard before—claiming she’s an amazing cook, a great housekeeper, and the best at making biryani and fish curry. “What’s your favorite food, son?” they ask. The man replies, “I eat everything, but I love Kuzhimandhi.” The mom then chimes in, “Oh, our daughter makes the best Kuzhimandhi in town. You’re lucky to get her!” And like that the deal is either made or broken.

I had three matchmaking meetings, and although none of them led to marriage, each one is memorable for its unique story. One, in particular, stands out. At the time, I was living in a very remote place—so isolated, it felt like no one else was around. This guy worked for a PR company, and he travelled six hours by bus to the nearest stop, then walked an hour and a half to get to my home. I was beyond excited to have a guest, considering how rare it was.

So, he arrives, tired from the journey. He probably wanted to relax, but we were too thrilled to have a visitor. Before anyone could speak, I took charge (remember, I was fresh out of journalism school). I asked him everything—his education, how he got his job, what his role was, if he liked copywriting, who the clients were, who owned the firm, whether he planned to stay in Kerala or move elsewhere, and about the latest ad he worked on.

I accidentally glanced at my parents and suddenly noticed them staring at me. That’s when it hit me—oh wait, he’s here to decide if he wants to marry me. It didn’t take him long to decide. He finished his coffee and snacks, didn’t ask me a single question, stood up, and left.

Then, at 32, I decided to marry a man I met by pure accident. As I’ve said before, every love marriage has its own unique story. This one, too, is no different.

Nisha Kurian (O'Rodha)

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