Welcome SH****1931

A little after two years of trying to get over my ex, and that deep sense of regret and guilt, I maintained a policy of zero-interaction at home, and minimal social interactions elsewhere. Back at my previous work space, a colleague had created a Shaadi.com account for me. It was meant to make fun of me. I always took these pranks from my team, in good spirit and I laughed along. When they’d tell my ex about it, she would laugh too and suggest more cliched bits to add to it.

The description was somewhere on the lines of - Thin, fair, well-mannered Mangalorean boy looking for a simple, homely girl who will walk on the beach with him. I don’t know what happened to it, but I managed to get the login details for it. I decided I needed to make progress. I was now 30. I couldn’t waste my life drowning in guilt, and self-pity. My ex had long moved on and there was nothing I could do. The last strand of hope she offered me, I declined.

A few things were learnt by now. I wanted to marry a Roman Catholic, preferably a Mangalorean, someone nice and fun. Faith didn’t really matter to me at all, but I didn’t have the patience to go through another more fights with my mother over this again. I liked being hostage to the comfort of the known culture and upbringing, knowing that everyone would approve. I could focus on more important things such as bonding with my partner, freely and without guilty meeting and speaking with her before we got married. One lazy Sunday afternoon, I remember logging in, and cleaning up my profile.

I was there. SH***1931 was now online.

I learnt a lot of things about myself, and about people in general, and specifically Roman Catholics, through this journey on Shaadi.com. I’m quite particular about things in other people. You can be very intricate and creative, but a few standard, templatized parameters about you are all you need to get hitched. I never believed in mugging up for my exams, never in boasting, never in marketing myself. That templatized, transactional way was never my way of doing things Being honest and modest was the only way ahead. I also figured, since my mother had taught me the hard way, that Christians, specifically Roman Catholics stand on the ultimate pedestal of morality, good ethics and culture that I not be swayed by anything else, anymore.

I wrote my profile description. I spoke about my interests in music, cycling, in computers and how I was self-taught for the most part, how my qualifications may not seem like much on paper, but I’m doing quite well and I’m very creative. I’m not materialistic. I am in a good place, I really am an honest guy and I would like someone who is equally enthusiastic, understands what I am, and that I will just as caring. I received no interests and requests.

After a wait that spanned days and some weeks, I figured, it must be the guy who makes the first ‘move’. So, I searched and found a profile of a girl, from Borivali. She was 29 at the time, a Science graduate, working as a contractor for a shipping company. She looked pretty, she was the only child, like me. She seemed sober and sensible, not flashy or flamboyant. I pinged her, and she responded. We chatted for a bit, then some more and it seemed to be going quite well. This went on for a week or two, very mutual and calm. In my head thought, I was already having dreams of a life together, and how wonderful things were going to be. Through the interaction I asked if we could talk on the phone, sometime this weekend, and she agreed. When the day came, she refused to answer. I was a bit surprised, and then the chat conversations stopped too. I decided to pick up the phone that evening and call her up, asking if there was something wrong?

She said, ‘No, I don’t wish to continue this anymore’. I was taken aback. I learned that I get attached when someone appears to be genuine towards me. I tried asking her if I had said something wrong, or was I rude? I remember telling myself, after what I had put my ex through, I would give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I would be polite, I would courteous, I would go a mile further and never doubt them. I go to any extent to convince, to apologize and be nice to be the best partner and husband. I tried to be as nice as I could over the chat conversation trying to fix what was dented, after which I got a call from her mother, a working teacher, in a convent. “You need to stop messaging my daughter. We do not want to talk to such people like you. What kind of company do you keep? Which parish are you from?”. I tried to apologize, not sure what I had done wrong, and I was blocked.

This was a slap to my face, to everything I thought I did right, including being very patient. I was led to believe there was something there, but it didn’t matter anymore. Maybe, the girl was interested, but the mother did not feel that way. She refused to argue with her parents. Perhaps it was my qualifications (or lack of it), maybe I came across as some sort of creep or thug, but the girl’s mother was judgmental, rude and condescending to me. I felt really humiliated. I was annoyed that I wasn’t given a chance to speak. At the end of her mother’s call, she said “God Bless and all the best!”

This was my first ever taste of the superior mannerisms, and non-judgmental culture of the middle-class Roman Catholic Mangalorean.

I think back then, I went as far as asking my parents, people I didn’t speak with for nearly two years, to please inquire about this family. I was hoping to get through to them, through some known family or distant friends. Turns out we knew someone, who knew her family. When they were about to inquire, I asked my parents to not bother. This was the beginning of the end of all self-respect. The fact that I could be shrugged off, and then I would still try to be nice and convince them, was a sign of this change in nature. I cared now what others thought of me, and I felt if they heard me out, they may not feel that way about me.

Over the next five to six years, I would have close to a hundred interactions from Shaadi.com, nearly all of them had similar ends. I wish I could detail every conversation which I promised myself I would. I do remember some prominent ones and then there are the more serious, the more promising ones. These are the ones that took a lot out of me and made me question everything I had grown up with.