My first ideas on marriage were borrowed from a partnership that lasted fifty-two years. It sounds like a lifetime. It very much is. I witnessed the old-world charm of love, longing, and loss all bundled in a lifespan and, more importantly, in my formative years.

As a young Christian couple back in the sixties, my grandparents relocated from the lush bounties of Kerala to the remote interiors of a mundane town on the hinges of Tamil Nadu. An arranged introduction, a pair of rings, and a sermon later, the two were declared man and wife. There was only enough time and space to memorize each other’s family names. Love was a far cry, a whisper rather.

Between my grandmother’s affluent upbringing and my grandfather’s humble origins, his Nikon camera captured their journey and the romantic potential of a young, tender, and ‘slow love.’ In his camera film roles, she held the visual space and vivacity of a wife, a woman, and most importantly, a person coming into her own being. She was the first muse to an avid photographer– a handsome, jovial man and her brother’s friend, whom she had known for one fortnight before they uttered their vows aloud. The days, months, and years following this marriage displayed a courtship that could put Bridgerton to shame. For the first time in twenty years, my grandmother became the centre of someone’s attention and retained this sort of love, warmth, and caregiving in her husband’s gaze.

Abundant with solo shots of her in front of majestic mountains, beaches, and bridges to the most mundane activities captured at an odd wedding, the kitchen, or their bedroom, she stands there sporting luscious silk sarees and a heart-wrenching smile. You can look and tell when one wishes to live their brightest times out of a dull, depleting monochrome album. My grandmother has repeatedly expressed that desire verbally too. She holds the grief of not having documented enough between them in a fifty-two-year-long marriage. Long, not old. Before one left the other behind, these photographs are all that remains of their love and a beautiful companionship in the wake of time.

This brings me back to ‘slow love.’ The kind that can underline and define a marriage. The kind that is hard to imagine, much less pursue, in an era of relentless dating app swipes and cursory likes. Instead, you slow things down in your mind, so the familiarity is never fleeting but naturally carved out. The kind where the idea of discovering one another is not a headrush but a steady walk down an uphill road, hand in hand. The kind that compels your grandchildren to revel in its memory and set out to search for its traces in reality. The kind where you take a lifetime to get to know yourself and, in turn, get to know your partner a tad bit more closely. A slow and steady kind of love.

In some sense, I do believe slow love makes for safer relationships. Your expressions of love are not hurried. You learn the communication necessary to relish the pace of a budding romantic relationship. You long for the warmth of handwritten letters and face-to-face interactions, and if you’re daring enough, a five-decade-old photo archive, like my grandfather’s, would do too. Early, earnest commitment can nourish a fertile plane that leads to intimacy, mutual understanding, and deep love. Perhaps, sometimes, it is their very condition. The hope is to capture the intent and ideal of a love that is simply learned and lived every day to the fullest.

Do you really want to understand the nitty-gritty of living with your partner before you marry them? I’m not sure!

Do you worry that it could result in all the things that can take romance out of the relationship? Hmm, that’s a worry!

Is your relationship healthier if your partner has been brought up with the courtesy to put the seat down after his visit to the loo, or is it an insignificant detail that does not matter?!

This really cannot be something we talk about!

 Is the tube of toothpaste squeezed from the end or are there lumps and bumps and a messy top with no lid? 

It can be appalling for a tidy girl or maybe it gives her the opportunity to return to the lazy girl she always was, bathroom tidiness be damned, the loo welcomes a messy twosome! 

I am lucky to have a partner with super loo etiquette because all of those idiosyncrasies mentioned above would have driven me bonkers! I am also trying desperately for my boys to pick up on these little but important codes of courtesy as soon as possible – it’s never too early to understand some of the polite mannerisms that living together requires.

A relationship can become so comfortable when you get used to the real sights and sounds of cohabiting that there is no need to mess with the equation. If I were put in that spot, I might just find it the comfortable cocoon that needs no changing, even if I know that the end result could be the beautiful butterfly called wedded bliss! 

Making a home together can be euphoric at any time. Pre-marriage, post-marriage- it’s a very special time. All the culinary arguments, who’s turn it is for groceries or making lunch take their time to fall into place and settling in can be a quite the joyride. I am sure my Mum and Aunt’s would have enjoyed establishing equal relationships if society saw it as acceptable for them to live with my Dad and Uncle’s before the priest finished the wedding chant’s! For a group of ladies that did not even call their husbands by their first names, to show some form of respect for their traditionally older male partners, it would have been an awkward but revolutionary time. As generations have moved on, I think both men and women have enjoyed the equality they bring to their relationship when they begin to live together. Even if equality is not what they have settled for, there are rules on who does what around the house! I offered to pay all the bills online when we first got married but the type-A character I am married to was never sure it was done right, so I stopped! 15 years later, he would be grateful if I took it on, trust established over the years and all that, but heigh-ho, that ship has sailed, Type-A can stick with it! I wonder if we had established these rules as a couple living in, we could change how we wanted to do things once married! 

Independence and money are always important to living with someone. I think more women would keep their careers going longer if they are living with their partners and both individuals are contributing to running a household, whether equally or otherwise. I did find giving up on a career difficult when I had children, but it was my decision entirely, I wanted to spend that time with my kids, I wanted them to know I was around, it mattered to me and I was privileged to have the financial and emotional support to do so. Had we lived in, I might have struggled to shake off the job as I may have had financial responsibilities to both the family and to the structure of a household we had established. I speculate though, and for many, this may never be a matter of choice!  

In the end, every couple has to find space and comfort in the cards they are dealt and the circumstance they are in. Some have the ability and freedom to make that decision on living-in and experimenting with cohabitation, others don’t and find a certain charm and romance in the unknown. 

Is there complacency that could set in and make a live-in relationship a rut? Yes, but that can happen to married couples too. 

May you never head for holy matrimony? Possible, and you may still thrive in the relationship. 

Whichever way you do it, there will be arguments, hurt, hugs and chuckles along the way. Both versions will always be the experiment you hope never fails.

It could be magical figuring out if a long-term relationship is actually for you given the opportunity. It could save both people much heart-ache if a couple can realise quite quickly that living together is beyond unbearable. And then again, you could establish rules on toothpaste tops that you agree on and loo manners that are acceptable and find collaborative ways that makes things chug along because there is so much more that keeps two individuals together. Above all, you will establish roles and rules on finances, kids, careers and life to come, which could be very fruitful. You may still bumble along when life bowls you that googly, but you will have had the experience and strength of the past to drive into the future!

The Railway Woman

As we travel and make new homes in unknown lands, we grow to appreciate new cultures but also use a focal but distant lens to observe homes of the past. I notice this in myself when I speak with family in India and know that I am not alone. 

In full disclosure I must admit that my British passport will never take away the tears I shed when I hear the Indian national anthem but the odd tear has started to run down the cheek when I hear “God save the Queen” as well! My heart swells when I hear the lyrical notes the 9 year old strikes in Britain’s got Talent and wrenches with equal gusto when I hear the tribal singer belt his chords on Indian Idol. I truly am a “desi” at heart, and yet, feel fraudulent when I hear family and friends talk of Indian nationalism to mean never criticising those in political power or call out simple cultural anomalies that should never stand the test of time. So, does moving away from India as a child of the endearing 80’s still give me the right to criticise what I see through the lens of dispassionate distance?

What does it mean to be a Non-resident Indian? For many it means not paying taxes in India, for others, they prefer having a travel document that makes moving across the globe, visa-free, slightly less tedious. For me, I have gained a new home in Britain, lost the right to my Indian vote, and am bringing up children in a mixed and diverse culture, some of it great and some of it not. I have laid my bed and am very happy in it. Nothing is ever dusted in gold, not even the streets of London but I always like looking at my glass full – brimming with twinkling Scotch and soda, my first sips of which were at my Dad’s bar in Delhi!

India has now become my home away from home. I go back to meet family and friends, continue to have commitments that take me back and it’s the place I take my children to show them my past. I am a flawed person, some of that past is great and some of it is not. India and my family made me the confident individual I am but I slowly find myself feeling less at home in the homeland, and it breaks my heart. My secular upbringing now feels challenged, the country’s economic boom no longer hides its social and cultural biases, they feel stronger than ever before, and can’t be camouflaged in the cloud of familial euphoria that landing in Delhi brings. 

There is so much my India brings to the international table. A country of a billion plus, that is the largest manufacturing hub in the world of vaccines, it stands proud in what it can deliver to 2021. A life-saving drug, is just that, a shot in the arm to bring humanity back to some sort of normality, any nation that has a role to play should stand tall in what it can contribute, and Bharat does it best. And yet in the last decade, a word hidden in my secular dictionary, “sedition” is displayed in newspapers black, white and pink every day. The hushed silences my homeland suggests are necessary for an easier life tingle my spine. Is my criticism unfair or do we as NRI’s hold India to higher standards and therefore feel it’s our birth right to berate our homeland when we see a flaw?

Does living in the land of your birth make you the stalwart that has to constantly defend its values, its culture and the nationalism that comes with it? And if not, it’s a mystery why we do it. My mother defends the government I criticise, she, on the other hand can criticise the bad behaviour of a bureaucrat at the passport office and sees fit in having him hauled up by a senior. The man had a bad manner, he also now has a big “x” in his customer service report! Had I said the same thing, I would be called the NRI expecting perfection, when she does it, she is a tax-paying citizen, well within her right to have him rapped on the knuckles.

So, does our relationship with the motherland change fundamentally when we chose to live in a different geography? Analytically speaking, mine has. I have found my voice to say things can go wrong everywhere, even in India. There is plenty wrong in Britain, but no one tells me off when I say it. As I look forward to India thrashing England in the test match at the swanky and shiny pride of Gujarat, Motera, my cricket loyalties are intact. I hope that redeems me when I say, come on India, grow up, and learn to take some criticism on the chin.

The Railway Woman

I was about 5 years old, hopping and skipping along to catch up with my grandfather as we went for our Sunday walk, just him and me, talking, me asking him a 1000 questions and him sharing   life lessons with me, disguised in funny, interesting stories. He was a very gentle soul, with twinkling eyes and a mischievous laugh. All week I used to look forward to this walk with him. I felt safe. I felt happy.

I was born into an industrialist family in North India. The small city as I knew it, then almost entirely consisted of people and their families who were employed in the family business. I was sent away to a boarding school in Nainital when I was 5 for fear of turning out spoilt and obnoxious. Today when I look at myself, I am not sure if my parents sent me 5 years too late! Anyway, I was too attached to my mother and became very unwell. One day the Principal called my parents and asked them to take me out of boarding school and make me a day scholar. Mission accomplished! My mother moved bag and baggage into our 30 room mansion high up in the hills and life was finally in place. My father would come ever so often to visit us which we eagerly looked forward to. My mother and I formed a bond which was deep and strong and I knew that nothing bad could happen as long as she was by my side.

I held my younger sister’s hand and took her for her first day in kindergarten, down the hill we walked, my mother, her and me. We had a 6 year age gap and I clearly remember the tremendous sense of joy and pride I felt as we walked into her preschool. She was 3 and had clenched my hand tight. I looked at her, and smiled, and told her I will be waiting. She knew I would be.

The first time the man I was dating dropped me at the airport and hugged me – the tears just rolled, I can’t explain it, I just felt a stab in my heart at the thought that I might never see him again. It seemed I had always known him, notlike I had only met him twice! I knew then, that this was it. I had always believed I would only get married when I met someone I couldn’t live without. I knew in my heart that this man would always love me and have my back.

My eldest son was born after 20 hours of intense labour. My husband was with me in the room throughout. As he proudly cut the umbilical cord (perhaps he wanted to make sure,  he always says my umbilical cord with my mother still hasn’t been cut!!) he was beaming hearing the cries of our son. I have never seen him this happy. Ever. He walked over and placed our first born who was screaming on me. In that instant, as he snuggled into me and put his tiny fingers in my palm he stopped crying.

Today as my kids are beginning to discover the world I want them to see it through their lens – not mine. But ever so often they look at me and stretch their arms out and run to me. As I hold them tight, they know I have got them.

My husband and I, both, have demanding, stressful global roles which amongst a multitude of other things mean travelling the world on our own. Yet we are connected in a way that is difficult to explain and we both know that home is only where we are together.

Trust. It’s as simple as that.

Anuradha Gupta is Founder, CEO for Vows for Eternity, and Indian-American matchmaking service headquartered in New York, with offices in Delhi, Mumbai and London.

www.vowsforeternity.com

The years have flown by and I often find myself wondering if it has really been 12 years since I got married and then I see some grey hair and I am reminded that indeed it has! So much has changed over the years, I have lived in more countries than I could have ever thought, got married, had kids, loved, lost and gained so much. And then the internal changes, which are a lot more drastic but a lot more intangible and have come after much soul searching.

Years ago, my notion of life and of relationships was so different to what it is today. Life was this little bubble that I lived in, a world made by me, for myself where everyone is safe. I have always been a die hard romantic and an intense all or nothing person. I have always believed in the sanctity of marriage but have often found myself being caught between believing in the sanctity of marriage, yet not being sure if I had it in me to be with one person all my life. Is that how human beings are wired – to love and to be with one person all one’s life? I couldn’t answer that then, I still can’t answer that now.

But today I know that life usually turns out very differently to the way we imagine and it’s very important to go with the flow and at the same time to trust your instincts. Look inward, listen in to that voice which speaks very softly and you won’t go wrong. I was 34, living in London when I first met this man who was the polar opposite of who I am. On so many levels we are like chalk and cheese. I am a vegetarian, whilst he can eat anything that crawls! He is a finance guy who can spend hours over an excel spreadsheet, whereas for me the excel works as a sedative, putting me to sleep very rapidly! Our backgrounds are different, cultures are different, even our styles are quite different. He is very chilled out, always seems to be in a state of zen, in control of his emotions, very humble – everything that I am NOT!

I met him for the first time in May 2008, in London, over an evening which lasted 5 hours where we spoke about everything from politics to sport and time just flew. And then we didn’t speak to each other for 4 months as we were both busy with work and travel. I reconnected with him months later and we met up in LA. We shared a wonderful few days, some of the best in my life, we drove for hours to watch the sunset over a glass of champagne overlooking the ocean, went for long walks, spoke for hours, went for a cycle ride by the beach, had the most fun dinners and time just stood still for those few days. Till the clock struck and it was time for me to leave for London. As he came to the airport to see me off and I said goodbye, I felt like I was leaving something very precious behind. That’s when I knew. This was the man I wanted to marry. I couldn’t understand it then, how could I know that I wanted to share my life with someone I had just met a handful of times? I still don’t understand how that happened, it was just so unlike me.

We got married exactly one year after we first met. Over the years we have gone through a lot together, seen a lot of ups and downs – good and bad times. Our relationship has changed drastically, it started off just with the two of us and then over time it was our individual families that one got to know, we had kids that in so many ways changed the dynamics of the game. It brought a phase of adjustment, a steep learning curve and the realization that our lives will never be the same again. And for that I am truly grateful. Becoming parents has been our biggest blessing.

I believe in change, and that it is the only constant. Sometimes I wonder what brought us together and kept us together – it couldn’t have been the kids as they came in so much later in our lives. So what was it? On the surface there is so much that is different, but deep down in things that matter to us, we are so similar. Most importantly, we are best friends. It started with our first meeting, it was so easy. We don’t have stereotypical roles in our marriage – perhaps because neither of us are people who would fit the typical mould.

We are both strong individuals who sometimes butt heads but also respect each other immensely because we are so different and bring such different things to the marriage. Today, when I look back at the headstrong, impulsive, volatile person that I am and the balance that he brings to my life, I realize how important friendship is to a marriage. Our relationship has seen so many seasons and even 12 years later I look forward to us stealing time to get on our bicycles and go on a ride by the beach, with the wind blowing through our hair, the sound of the waves as they crash and us just soaking in the moment as the sun sets.

Anuradha Gupta is Founder, CEO for Vows for Eternity, and Indian-American matchmaking service headquartered in New York, with offices in Delhi, Mumbai and London.

www.vowsforeternity.com

The last few years seem like a blur, the fast pace, the skewed focus on work that never seems to end and the constant feeling of being torn in trying to get the balance right between my personal and professional space and feeling like I can never get it right no matter how hard I try. However, the last few months have been like a pause and reflect button in so many meaningful ways. Even though work has been busy it almost feels like time has paused, the world has stopped rushing around, there is a sense of tranquility, possibly an uneasy calm in the midst of all this chaos and uncertainty. I can finally introspect. Life is allowing me to realize what is missing, what is valuable, what needs changing and what I need to hold on to.

I have been thinking of things that are important to me – marriage is one of those. There has always been a certain sanctity to marriage for me. I believe that the stronger the foundation, the stronger the structure. But on the flip side the more intense the emotions, the easier it is to get hurt and to have the power to hurt. A good solid marriage rests on so much but if I was to pick four things to be the pillars of a strong relationship I would pick Love, Respect, Friendship and Trust.

Today let’s talk about Love.

Sometimes you fall in love and get married and sometimes you get married and then fall in love. Is one better than the other? No, I don’t believe so-they are just different.

 Being crazily in love can be very heady with very strong highs and lows, that are emotional, volatile, even intense and then people get married. For many people the dynamics change as expectations associated with “being married” change. . It is common for one partner to feel that the other has changed but actually neither has- it’s just the circumstances and the environment that has changed. In the Indian landscape, marriage brings with it a certain set of expectations no matter how liberal someone is, these are expectations from each other and from the incoming member towards other family members. Things that were great and accepted with a smile and a thank you, all of a sudden, don’t garner the same response, expectations have moved up a few notches  in the minds of family and friends and therefore the same responses just doesn’t cut it. The rules of the game have changed just as you had become comfortable. That can be tough to accept and navigate through.

On the other hand in an arranged scenario, two people take the time to get to know each other starting from a blank canvas -one small step at a time. A person doesn’t know what to expect and it takes a while to truly get to know each other – there is an excitement as the journey starts with two people coming together on the basis of shared values, a strong personality fit, a mutual attraction and wanting similar things from life. The couple build the rest as they learn to discover each other. That’s a very strong foundation.Despite this, the journey is not a bed of roses, it is tough at times, extremely fulfilling at others but one where there is a lot of learning about who we are, who we are not and what we are capable of giving to a relationship.

Are love and acceptance two sides of the same coin? When we say we love someone what does it really mean? If we love someone do we also truly accept them as they are? Do we love them despite all their flaws or do we love them FOR their flaws and imperfections? Do we love someone and constantly try to change them? Do we love them but want them to live their life on our terms? And is that love?

I have always struggled with this one-I am guilty of rarely getting this right. I feel I have come a long way but there is so much work in progress! With time things settle down and people find their own equilibrium. I am learning to filter out the “noise”. Ultimately, only the two people involved can really understand what goes on between them. I have learned that everyone will have opinions, advice will be offered with the best intentions course but there needs to exist a space amongst all the madness, chaos and noise that should only be mine – in which only my voice can enter. Then the choices I make are mine alone.

When everything is falling apart I have found love to be my glue. It’s something that is so important to me that I cannot fathom my life without it, I don’t want to. And I don’t mean love as a concept but love as in the person I love. Yet there are times when I have been swept away by other destructive emotions like ego and stubbornness. They have clouded my vision and my ability to express the way I really feel. These emotions have put me in corners where I have meant something and said something else. I have believed for most of my life that if the person loves me he will know why I am reacting the way I am, he will know that sometimes what I want to say and what I am saying are two very different things, he will know that I am hurting when I am appearing strong, that I miss him when he is away and most importantly how much I love him even though I haven’t said it in the longest time. But the reality is different unless one is married to a mind reader! I owe expressing my feelings to the one I love as much as I owe it to myselfto not hold back. Life goes by very quickly and time lost is lost forever, which is a very heavy price to pay.

When you love someone is it important to show love in the way you want to show it, or in the way the one you love wants it? I don’t want the one I love to have to second guess how I feel about him. I want him to know that he anchors me. I want him to know how beautiful my life is just because he is in it. I want him to know how important our friendship is to me. I want him to know that I have learnt so much from him because of which I am a better person today. I want him to know that he has shown me that love is giving each other the space to be who we are as well as the freedom and support to blossom, to follow one’s dreams. I want him to know how much I value our years together, our journey, the distance travelled, the memories created, even the hurt, loss and grief – because it’s shared. It binds us in ways only we know.

There is so much I haven’t said because I believe that if he truly loves me he will understand not only my words but also my silence. I now realize that things unsaid are not always understood, and it is important they are. There are lots of reasons to be silent. Loving someone with everything that you have is not one of those.

I now understand what it means to be rock solid. Not because I am – but because that is what he is to me.

Anuradha Gupta is Founder, CEO for Vows for Eternity, and Indian-American matchmaking service headquartered in New York, with offices in Delhi, Mumbai and London.

www.vowsforeternity.com

Like any parent in this universe you want to give your children the sun, the moon and the stars. When my older daughter started dating a man at the age of 25, I was happy to see her happy, thinking she will date for a few years, figure out what she wants, find happiness, and feel safe and be excited about her future. All the while building her foundations to a rock-solid career. She was too young to be thinking of marriage anyway, right?

Imagine our surprise when the boy popped the question. He was 5 years older and was keen to settle down. So, though it was a mere 5 months, the marriage required a move to America. This was concerning to us as parents since both came from completely different socioeconomic backgrounds. There were blaring red flags everywhere, but we were blinded by her happiness as well as seeing one of our ‘responsibilities’ being fulfilled. Liberal or not, I guess it is an Indian parents’ dream. Point to ponder?

Within a month of the marriage the abuse started. First verbal, slowly chipping away at her self-confidence. This was heartbreaking, as it is the very first thing we as parents pour our energy into building – their confidence. Of course, the abuse progressed and I started seeing the signs. Missing home, crying easily, angry all the time. It will remain the biggest regret of my life, not having realized it earlier. Why didn’t I see it? Or did I choose to turn a blind eye because it was just easier? 

It was very tricky for me to not influence her by disrupting her life for something she may have thought could be resolved. However, at the same time, how could I possibly tolerate the injustice? How does a parent do that? All these thoughts paralyzed me.

While my husband was livid when I confided in him, wanting to run to the authorities, confront his parents and of course run and get our child back, we decided we were first going to make sure she is safe. I was plagued by the choice of bringing my daughter safely into my arms and holding her tight, or giving her the opportunity to discover her strengths and empower her. This was the first step in letting her find her confidence again – by sorting out her personal issues herself, figuring out what it is that she really wants. It was one of the most difficult things I have ever done as a mother. 

Well, time does heal. It’s been a year since and my daughter has matured into a beautiful confident woman, certainly more sure of herself. She holds her head high and is ready to take on the world. If you look closely there is a shadow of pain in her eyes, but it gives her character and makes her all the more beautiful.

Of course, all of this sounds easy enough if we don’t consider how we hid our pain from a number of our friends and family. There was always that pang we felt as we answered her grandparents’ questions of how the marriage was doing with tight-lipped smiles and false enthusiasm. We wanted their last few years to be free of worry, but was this more for their benefit or ours? I still don’t know. 

I wanted to share this to say that divorce is not the end of the world, it is a new beginning in a brave, new, beautiful world! I too learned that my main ‘responsibility’ as a parent and a mother was to empower my girls, as we all should, and then let them go free to explore, discover, and even meander maybe. And then, live some of your dreams through them and don’t ever forget to let them know that you’ve got their back no matter what.

The Railway Woman

Who remembers the song “Brown girl in the ring” by Boney M? I sang it through my childhood, but cannot even imagine the reaction to the record playing in a public place today, especially since the next few lines describe her as a “sugar in a plum”!! “Plum, Plum!!” I had to write in the extra plums just so it all felt complete, such was the charm of the song through the 80’s, even though it made the little girl stand out. 

Whether the West Indian song segregated the brown girl or made her feel special, the thought never crossed my mind. Today it does. Race and racism are front and centre when it comes to education for my children today. There was a time I felt it was too early for my lovely brown children to be exposed to the biases they might encounter in the majority Caucasian demographic they are born in. I have decided, it is actually the right time as they enter their early teens, to be aware and proud of who they are, their heritage and equally have the ability to take a stand and call out racism if they see it. They can only call it out when they know what it looks like! 

Meghan Markle did England no favours when she called both the British media and the Royal family racist on Oprah’s show recently. The jury’s still out on who the real bully was in this situation and there are so many contenders. Both the British tabloids and the internet are abuzz with debate. The Western world continues to struggle with assimilation and it will be a long while before things get to where they should be.

Whether it be the American film academy or the BAFTA’s, film and television are trying hard to bring in changes that are long overdue. I watched the racy series “Bridgerton” on Netflix a few weeks ago! Who would have thought black and brown actors could portray posh English gentry from the 1800s? With no real story line to speak of, the series is lockdown’s box office hit because it completely kills colour. You stop seeing it. The Duke of Hastings is strong, stubborn and sexy. The Duchess is petite, wilful and a steely force of nature. You will have to watch it to know what race they are. The same worked with the West End musical “Hamilton” where almost all actors portraying the American war of Independence were of colour, bringing depth and a genre of foot-tapping rap music to the forefront, that make both George’s (Washington and the King of England) far more interesting! Again, you can guess which one of them was of which colour! The bottom line is, no one cares! And that’s how it should be.

In India today, colourism is the age-old form of racism and it is a race against time to get rid of it! There are glimmers of hope as both men and women stand up strong against this bias within the county today, but so much more needs to be done. Both education and industry in India need to play the largest role in demolishing the racially prejudiced nature of some of the most basic biases that have existed in the country. A space that could lead that change is matrimonial advertisements in newspapers. 

Looking for a fair, beautiful, slim, homely and convent educated girl, 22-25 years, for a handsome, well settled boy with a managerial job!

Why should a newspaper of any repute let this be part of their Sunday pages? It’s diabolical.

Rarely do parents paint their sons in the same colours of skin tone, behaviour and education. Adjectives that are racial and derogatory at a time when women describe themselves as professionals and entrepreneurs with multiple educational qualifications should have no place in our world.

Matrimonial adverts for men are not much better: 

Looking for a fair and handsome, well-educated boy in a corporate job with an MBA, for a well settled professional girl in New Delhi only!

How does someone know if a man’s fair skin and MBA will make their daughter happy? It is actually funny that parents are willing to send their children to various Western shores for the best education but feel that a spouse must be within city limits. For that matter, parents that encourage their sons and daughters to use fairness products to meet these exacting standards, need to take a step back and see the damage they are peddling for generations to come.

As Indians, why is it difficult to admit that we are brown people? I am happy to say that again. We are brown people. Why are we obsessed with a lighter skin tone? Having done some very basic research via the ever-reliable internet here are some facts I have found:

Colourism or skin-color stratification is a process that privileges light-skinned people over dark in areas such as income, education, housing, and the marriage market (Hunter, 2007). 

Overall, combined influences of the caste system, colonialism, and globalization have made fair/light skin-color a social capital that enables upward social mobility in India (Parameswaran & Cardoza, 2009b).

And therein lies the problem. The minute stronger and darker forces like income, social mobility and caste come into play, change is difficult to come by. Generationally, as a population, Indians have taken their time to shake off the biases that colonialism and the caste system have left behind. It will take a lot of hollering from the rooftops from people in the media, advertising and even politics to bring shame to colourism. There are no simple solutions when it comes to problems that are so well entrenched into social structures but we have to start somewhere.  

Anyone interested in moving this debate further? “Show me the motion… tra la la la la”

The Railway Woman