Problems being 24...

I am 24. This is the right age, they say. For what? Marriage.

Since I didn’t find my better half on my own, my parents had to take up the job of finding me one. I did not have a choice really. It was their way or no way.

They found a guy, with a decent job and good family background. Here, the good family background refers to common acquaintances and their alleged social status. My mom was pleased that her childhood friend was an acquaintance of the groom’s brother-in-law. And my dad was happy that the groom had a job with a well known IT company.

I was more concerned about his character. I am no angel, so I definitely am not looking for one. I was looking for someone who would be compatible with me. A few quirks would be okay, but there were few things that absolutely had be to ticked off my checklist.

1. He should definitely be taller than me. 3 inches would be good though
2. He should have a good sense of humor. To put up with my yapping of course, and make silly jokes out of it. Endearing, no?
3. He should be down-to-earth. No, I do not want cool dudes, and hot men. That is more of a turn off.

The guy was easily taller than me. I was hoping he would clear the other two of my expectations as well. All was well. He seemed down to earth, and at least tried to be funny. So, that almost takes care of my checklist. He was sweet with my parents. He wanted to be sweet with me. He even used “dear” when he addressed me. He texted every 5 minutes. I was anxious and hopeful. However, something kept telling me, this just was not right.

I have never felt so uncomfortable in my life. As much as I wanted to get to know him, I needed some space. And, he just wasn’t giving any. I tried to tell him that politely, but it only got worse. Being stalked is worse that being alone.

“Give him time and the benefit of the doubt,” a friend said. “Yeah, you are right. I am freaking out unnecessarily” I was still hoping.

But it just wasn’t bound to happen. I wasn’t my usual talkative self. I was always in a withdrawn mood. It wasn’t long until people started to notice. I was in a very bad place.

Then a friend asked me, “So, you are marrying because your parents want you to?” I nodded in agreement. “Wow! And here I thought you were an intelligent girl. Don’t marry for wrong reasons.”

After some crying, and some thinking I concluded –

• It does not matter whether he is tall or short
• It does not matter if he is funny/not funny/unintentionally funny
• It does not matter if he plain, cute, hot or handsome(I refrain from using ugly because however he might look he will be handsome to me!)

All that matters is that I should love him, despite his quirks. In fact, I should love him including his quirks. And vice-versa.

That evening I told my parents, that the marriage is not going to happen. They took it well. They were just worried about me – my future. Parents worry. But, they will be alright. Perhaps not right now, but later.

As for me, I am happy. I might get married; I might not. But, I am definitely not getting married for the wrong reason.