A friend of mine is looking to marry. She wants someone from 'a good family'... Respectable, decent, sufficiently well-off I suppose...not so hard up that it indicates that they would do anything to make cash. Not so rich that they can afford to bend rules and getting away with it. The right bracket of middle-class where it is comfortable to have a conscience.
There are lots of men who are also looking for girls from good families. So this should be fine.
She did meet one such person. I was introduced to him. I thought he dressed really sharp and seemed nice. Then again, who's not good, right? But I did ask her to talk to him more because I felt that he wasn't comfortable with something. Granted I had only 30 minutes of a Zoom call but I don't know. I sensed something.
Anyway, these people hung out outside the city one weekend. And she called it off because he seemed 'dysfunctional'. I asked her why. Apparently the guy didn't think that his family was 'good'. She worshipped her own family, so she couldn't even understand how anyone reviled their folks in front of a stranger.
Personally I think it takes great perception to take a step back and see your family for who they really are. One can still be fiercely loyal. One can put the family over everything and everyone else. In a bind, your family can always come first, last, and always. But I think it's okay if you feel your family is weak or selfish or broken.
I was very fond of my mom. When she came to my school to pick me up, I would be so proud and thrilled to have her around. She had a carefree, joyous laugh that comes with the confidence of beautiful people. They know that they are cherished everywhere. All my friends loved her. One of them would always tell me that she wished we could trade moms. I was very possessive so I hated hearing that. One day she was sobbing during recess. She was punished and wasn't allowed to play outside. I weighed nearly 100 kgs and had no interest in being made fun of. So we were both in class.
I asked her what was wrong. She pointed to a woman outside and said that she was ashamed that that woman was her mom. That lady was holding a lunch basket, wearing a red saree, and sitting quietly looking around. The girl said that her mother was so ugly that she wished she died. That may have been the first and only time I slapped a girl. I didn't mean to. It was a reflex. I was a shy girl in school so this was very shocking for me as well. I hit her hard. She had red streaks on her face and my palm stung.
She said nothing. Surprising because she was a fiesty one and would have clocked me for sure. She quietly said that I wouldn't understand. My mom was beautiful and stylish and I had no reason to be embarassed. I told her that you loved your family because it was your duty and her mom seemed perfectly nice.
At home I told my mom about how bad this girl was, carefully hiding the fact that I had hit her. Mom was unpacking my school bag. Somewhere between checking my calendar for homework and removing my tiffin-box, she asked me what I had replied in return. I wished she hadn't asked me that. But I said that I had hit her because how could anyone talk about their mother like that. Mom had no patience for such self-righteous wrath and it was possibly the first of many times when she asked me if I had 'taken' something...like drugs. (I got pretty angry and violent later on but never due to drugs, and never against women...of course anger can be a drug and it has its own payoff.)
The next day mom came to school and made me say sorry to the girl. That girl was so ecstatic to be around mum that at one point I wondered if she had orchestrated the whole thing only to get close to my mom. Then mom went up to her mother and invited her and the family to dinner. (I was horrified and that aunty was baffled. But she agreed.)
I don't know what that dinner accomplished except for it being excruciating for me. But aunty, my friend and her younger sister seemed to have a good time.
Later Ma told me that people have different types of families and it's not good to judge people like that. That girl and I got back on talking terms. She kept getting punished and I remained 100 kgs for a while. So we spent many recesses together. I don't know if she started becoming okay with her mum. But her mum would come every day and sit patiently until our classes ended.
I am not sure what this girl's story has anything to do with that guy.
But I think maybe they should give each other a chance. If only the well-adjusted have a shot to find loving partners, it's a pretty unfair world.
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