This afternoon, in the sun, in the 1-2 hours I took to read through The New York Times and The Boston Globe, I, of course, I happened upon this week’s essay on modern love found in the former, about the author’s experience with (it) and the Indian custom of arranged marriages:
SAMEERA is emotional, quick to love and anger, while I am rational, almost nothing ever rousing my temper. She believes in instinct and gut feelings while I put my trust in statistics and probability. I read almost anything except biographies and memoirs and Sameera reads almost nothing but. “Why do I need to spend three hours making fish curry?” she says whenever I tell her that I have gone for sushi (which she hates). “I’ll just slice up the sea bass into thin fillets and you can gobble it up.” Would we have gotten married if we had met in the conventional Western manner and dated each other? Or would we have given up on each other and moved on, searching for the perfect “one”? I don’t know.
What I am sure about is that our marriage, arranged with other considerations in mind, took us from acquaintance to love and kept us together until we realized that our differences are the yin and yang that make our relationship whole. Now we consider ourselves absolutely perfect for each other.
Somewhere in that is a lesson, I am sure.
Bombay Bicycle Club “Always Like This”
Bombay Bicycle Club “Always Like This (James Rutledge remix)”