Tara Ahuja's Golden Rules

23: Arranged Marriages

A week had passed, and I sat at the kitchen island, after midnight. I indulged in a cupcake, and swung my kitchen island chair around. Life was calming down, and I was grateful for that.

The front door's doorknob jangled, and I assumed it was Ajit. It wasn't, though, it was my mom and I was pleasantly surprised. God, I missed my mom. I felt like the last time I had a proper conversation with her was ages ago. It was the time she really opened up to me about her stance on my father's death.

My mom walked in holding her bags, and in her scrubs. I rushed over to her, grabbing her bags and setting them down.

My mom took a sigh of relief, "Thank you, dear," she said.

I placed her things in the living room, and she took a seat on the couch. "So, how have you been since we've last spoken?" she asked.

Oh lord, what could I even tell you, mother? She stared at me, awaiting an answer, but I took a second to think.

My initial unreliable instinct was to tell her everything, to cry to her and let her console me, but I wasn't sure if our relationship was there yet. I also didn't want to test it. What if I broke our new relationship by taking it too far? I couldn't risk that, maybe in the future, but not at this moment.

"Mom, could I ask you a really random and kind of stupid question?" I asked.

"Sure," she said, as she straightened up.

I took a large exhale, "Well, when you married dad, it was obviously an arranged marriage, but when did you finally start loving him?" I asked.

Yeah, I know it sounded like a ridiculous question, but id be lying if I said it hadn't been on my mind the past couple of days. These recent experiences with boys were starting to make me believe that maybe an arranged marriage would be the final outcome for me. I couldn't see myself trying anything with a guy ever again, and an arranged marriage just seemed like the easy way out.

The hopeless romantic begged this question within me, though. I had read the forced/arranged marriage trope in books and eventually they loved each other; maybe that could be the case with me.

"Wow, deep question for someone who just came back from a long shift," my mom joked. She paused for a moment, and then sadly dropped her eyes to the floor, "Would it be cruel to say that I never fell in love with your father?"

My jaw slightly dropped, but instantly, I understood her.

"I just never felt that spark, Clearly because it was arranged, but years down the line I also found that our views just didn't match up," she explained.

It was kind of comforting hearing from her that her views didn't match up with my dad's, even though, I think I always kind of knew that.

It was also kind of depressing hearing that my mother never really got to experience true love, the kind of love in movies.

"Then, you kids were born, and I found my happiness in you," she explained.

That was pretty precious.

"So, when he died..." I started.

My mom's face took a shocked expression, "Oh my, it still rocked my world. He was still my life partner, and I had grown fond of him over these twenty something odd years."

I nodded.

"I just— if I could admit something, after the initial shock of his death, I- I found myself becoming the freest I'd ever been," she said.

"Really?" I said. She felt free? I thought all of this work was draining her.

She nodded quickly, "You've seen how restricting your father was and it wasn't only with you, but with me as well. He wouldn't let me work certain jobs with late hours, talk to male coworkers, and wanted everything done on his terms. As selfish as it might sound, when he died my life somehow became easier."

She looked like she had just dropped a bomb with her guilt-ridden expression. I appreciated her honesty, though.

"Even by being a single mom your life became easier?" I asked.

My mom sighed, "Uh, well, honestly, no, not in a financial regard, but in a freedom and life regard, yes," she said.

Maybe being single wasn't as sad as it appeared in the media. Maybe it was liberating in a way that was never really expressed, just like how my mom put it.

"So, being single is something the most liberating thing?" I asked. My eyes partially lit up.

I could tell that she didn't like the amount of excitement I asked that question in.

She cleared her throat, "Well, uh, it can be yes," she said, and I relished in her words. "However, sometimes it's also tough being alome."

Tell me something I don't know. Being alone was the story of my life, and I guess her saying that sometimes being alone was liberating comforted me. She was taking all that back now, though.

"After your dad passed, sometimes I spent moments, longing for some affection, someone to trust whole heartedly, someone I could share my innermost feelings with," she said.

I felt my heart beginning to melt. Those were beautiful things in life, that she should be experiencing and it made me sad that she wasn't. Then I paused, and realized, I guess I felt the same way about myself.

"There's something so magical about having someone by your side through it all, this life thing can be a real pain and I guess there's so much comfort in knowing that you don't have to face it alone," my mom said.

Wow, that was incredibly true, as well. I thought back to why I started my relationship with Ezra; it was because I was struggling in my family and home life. He provided me some shade from that storm. Then, thinking about Varun and my relationship with him; he was there when one of the most pivotal events in my life happened, my father's death.

I guess having those two boys at those times of my life made me feel like I didn't have to go through life's biggest hurdles alone.

There were positives and negatives to both being single and having a partner. I could see why someone would be wholly against having a partner and why someone else could not see their life without one. As much as I wished I could be one of those who could live a happy life alone, I just didn't see it in me. I always dreamed of having a family, someone to love and cherish.

I guess that being a Punjabi girl today, that's why I wasn't completely against arranged marriages like a lot of people my age were. I just felt like if I couldn't find someone to love me, at least someone could learn to?

My mom leaned over to me and kissed me on the forehead, "Well, that's enough deep conversations about life today, good night sweetheart," she said.

I smiled, "Good night, mom," I said.

Without knowing it, my mom gave me a lot to think about. Topics that would keep me up at night for the following days, maybe weeks. I didn't completely hate that I would ponder about these topics though, they seemed necessary for me to know, as I learned more about the person I was.