It’s true. I’ve taken the plunge, and some of you might be interested in hearing the whole story of what happened. Or at least my side of it. Naina, perhaps you’d like to write a response someday? A lot of people across the oceans can’t wait to hear what you think of all this. For better or for worse I’m going to cover a lot of ground; you can choose to bear with me- this will probably be pretty long.
If I do say so myself, it’s been a fascinating love story to be a part of, so much so that I often feel as if it’s happened to someone else, and I’m an outsider who’s observing the whole thing in wonder. Like I’m sitting in a theater and watching a Technicolor romantic comedy from a bygone era that someone else is acting in. Additionally we’ve both been alarmingly calm and irrationally certain so far since being engaged, which remains unfathomable to both of us, as of this magical New Year’s Day. I’ve never had a single doubt or concern since doing this despite the incredibly short period of time and limited interactions we’ve had together. I’ll be the first to admit that it’s all been perfectly abnormal. Then again, we are talking about me here.
On December 15th I proposed to a young lady named Naina Mallya, who I first met exactly 57 hours earlier, at a point on the planet which is as far as possible from where I live in New York, known as Bangalore. She said yes without hesitation, even after I immediately asked the follow-up question, “Are you sure?” I was only half-joking. From beginning to now, the whole process has been just that effortless, the word my sister always used to describe how relationships, and life in general should be. I always waved off this cheesy new-age idea of “effortlessness”, as my own sensibilities told me that great things were achieved only through effort and hard work. How ironic that the sharp arrows of effortlessness came to pierce my heart.
Meanwhile, our relationship is in itself a unique hybrid: a 21st century blend which combined specific elements of both traditional Indian family-arranged marriages (where lightning-quick decisions with little contact or knowledge of one another are a dime a dozen) and modern romantic “love” marriages where the two halves of the couple find each other on their own- the concept people in the individualistic Western world are more familiar with. So although my parents and Naina’s parents initiated the connection upon the recommendation of a mutual relation, the two of us took the introduction to the next level on our own terms. So it was a happy marriage between what my parents wanted for me, and what I wanted for myself, without any pressure on me to make a quick decision one way or another. Although I finally entered the arranged marriage process after several years of my mother’s prodding in part to make her stop, I immediately found myself completely excited and immersed in the experience of my own volition because it was so awesome. This came after many years of never even being certain I would pursue an arranged marriage process, or even end up marrying an Indian. I now understand that all of that can change for anyone in a day.
That is because from our very first contact, despite the distance and differences in background, Naina and I connected on some inexplicable level, and it was largely a two-way street. The kind of thing that I’ve read in novels or heard in songs, but never believed truly existed, at least not for me. My first email to Naina on September 1st that triggered this whole thing off was very businesslike, almost like a formal cover letter for a job. That’s one of many funny things about the arranged-marriage process: it feels like you’re applying for something, at least at the start. I’ve attached that first, mundane email here below for your entertainment. FYI for you non-Indian firangis, “biodata” is the rough equivalent of an arranged-marriage resume, with a focus on personal and family background, which your potential partner’s family can quickly scan to find out how old you are, where you work, where you were schooled, who your parents and grandparents were, your sub-caste, your Hindu star-sign, etc. In fact, “applications” are routinely accepted or rejected based on your biodata.
Then there was her photo, which sort of haunted me from the start. Here was this pretty Indian girl with a winning and confident smile, dressed up in a traditional white salwar kameez dress, in front of an idyllic Indian backdrop with beautiful coconut trees and a flowing blue river. It evoked another place and another era. But more importantly, I felt from the first moment I saw that photo that I already knew her from somewhere. Of course, this wasn’t possible because we had never crossed paths before. I was excited to initiate the conversation, and waited until I was completely ready before doing so. Our mothers had already engaged in a lively, if brief email exchange before then and there was already a connection developing between them - something which I almost worried about because I didn’t want them to get too friendly before Naina and I had decided if we wanted to stay in touch. Anyway, here’s how it all started, exactly 105 days before our engagement:
date: Mon, Sep 1, 2008 at 11:03 AM
Hello Naina,
Hope you are doing well. My name is Mahanth, and I am writing to you to introduce myself. Our parents have been in touch and exchanged biodata, photos, etc. I have received yours and hopefully you have seen mine by now as well. My mother asked me to go ahead and email you.
Sorry that I did not get in touch earlier, due to my work and graduate school schedule I’ve been a bit busy until today. So here’s a bit more about me, I’m working in New York City government for the last 7 years, and in the evenings taking Master’s classes in Urban Affairs in the last year. I have a strong interest in writing about politics, foreign policy, and culture as well. And although I’m American, my sister and I have been lucky to spend a lot of time in India and other countries while growing up.
I would like to learn more about you. Please respond when you receive this so we can communicate some more. I look forward to hearing from you.
My introduction was fast-tracked across continents and time zones on the information superhighway. Naina responded right away, which started a long chain of emails back and forth, and constituted the entirety of our early relationship. This went so well that by the end of the email chain, before we had even spoken for the first time, I was really into her. Can’t say for sure if she felt the same way but I was digging the tone of her emails.
After more than two weeks, we spoke on the phone for the first time. The conversation lasted for over two hours, and there wasn’t a single awkward pause. Neither of us remembers much of the content, which must have been at least mildly substantive to overcome my Attention Deficit Disorder. I mostly remember our complete agreement on spiritual matters- we were literally finishing each other’s sentences on the subjects of reincarnation, karma, monotheistic polytheism, etc. The only other notable feature of this conversation was the number of times we had to interrupt one another because we had trouble understanding each other’s accents. In particular, Naina ceaselessly spoke sentence after sentence at breakneck speed with a thick Indian accent that I had trouble keeping up with, despite being around Indians all my life. Naina came to call my American accent exceedingly “fancy-pants.” What a start.
From that first call the conversation really took off, to the point where my rational and analytical powers surrendered completely to my hopelessly romantic side, which had been exiled to the dungeons for many seasons. This transition was well under way by early October. To be honest I’ve been completely sure everything would work out since early October. That would be exactly several months before we even met and one month after my first email. This certainty has visibly agitated a number of people that I am close to, most of all one of my favorite persons, myself. And this certainty has never gone away for a single moment. My rational and analytical powers, which used to be formidable once upon a time, put up a massive fight but then decided to assert their inalienable rights, and went on strike. I like to believe they’re sharing some beer somewhere and laughing at me.
Thank God for technology. Although this wasn’t exactly a Match.com or Shaadi.com Internet mating solution, 95% of our interaction was on email and G-Talk Instant Messenger, as we barely got time to talk on the phone all week due to the 10 1/2 hour time difference. There were a limited number of hours when we both weren’t at work, sleeping, out, or en route to any of the above. I like to joke that our relationship was like playing a video game: I’d sit down at a computer for several hours, usually late at night, and type stuff to someone on the other end, who would respond, and this went on and on for months. This is how I got to know Naina, but I often asked myself, was she real? Or was she just my opponent on an arcade game? Was she a figment of my imagination? Too good to be true? Would I wake up from a dream where I was experiencing all of these new emotions for the first time? In any case, we had some truly profound exchanges, emotional outbursts, and got into and out of conflicts through emails and chats. Just like any great video game relationship.
Eventually it became clear that we had to meet up, and as soon as possible. Fortunately I was already planning a trip to India to attend the weddings of my cousins, Ajesh and Akshatha in Udupi. So I piggy-backed meeting up with Naina onto my India itinerary. What followed was the most difficult 6 weeks of waiting, as we both could hardly bear to hold until December 13th, when we would finally meet one another. Throughout it all, I never had a doubt or fear that it wouldn’t work out, or that we wouldn’t like each other when we met.
During this phase, I was beginning to talk crazy talk with colleagues and friends, including the fact that I might return from a short India trip engaged to somebody I hadn’t met, and that people should consider making a trip to India in 2009 for my potential wedding. That’s when some truly interesting conversations began. One thing I have learned from all of this, and something that Naina deserves credit for teaching me, is that sometimes no matter how intelligent and well-meaning people are, they simply might not understand what two people in a relationship are going through. This was amplified due to the very orthodox Indian cultural context I was entering in order to pursue my life partner. I used to think that you could analyze your way through any relationship situation. I now understand how wrong I was, and how important and inexplicable the role of emotions can be toward making two people work. There was a lot of skepticism from many people who are close to me here in the United States.
On the other end of the spectrum there was the advice from those who thought arranged marriages were as natural as beeswax. My mom laid out what I now understand is the traditional approach to arranged introductions: “If she doesn’t turn you off, and you don’t turn her off, you might as well do it.” At first this seemed quaint but as the day neared when we’d finally meet, I thought it made perfect sense. And I have seen a number of relatives and friends tie the knot through the arranged process given much less time and interaction than I have had, and they are overwhelmingly successful and happy marriages. For example, my parents never met before the families agreed that they would be married 36 years ago. Of course, I am a product of this union and always found it to be cool.
Although I was supremely confident in the days leading up to my flight out of New York, knowing full well with every cell in my body that Naina and I would like each other once we finally met “in the flesh,” Naina from what I could gather seemed to swing from cautiously optimistic to frightened and spazzing. My only moments of terror came early on, when I saw Naina’s photo in August and September and got this spine-chilling feeling that I already knew her from somewhere, which felt like I’d seen a ghost. Luckily, I was distracted by the markets crashing and the presidential election, which helped me move past my terror quickly.
The long-awaited journey finally happened. The 24-hour trip via Paris could not end soon enough. I touched down at 2 a.m. local time on December 13th at Bangalore’s little international airport. I was picked up by my cousin Sushanth, who 5 years earlier had married a young lady named Anuradha, who is related to Naina. That’s how these things happen. Sushanth and I stayed up most of the night talking- catching up, as I hadn’t seen him in several years since his business trips to New York, hadn’t met his toddler son, and also discussing the ins and outs of his own arranged marriage process. This was great, as I was finally next to someone of my generation, who had done what I was about to do, and also knew what my life in New York was like.
I’ll never forget that day. I didn’t sleep a wink due to the combination of anticipation and jetlag. I spoke to Naina on the phone that morning, and for the first time, we had a clear cellular connection and I actually heard what her voice really sounded like. It was like a melodious song. We made plans for her to pick me up from Sushanth’s apartment building. The rest of the morning, high on anticipation, I played with Sushanth and Anu’s 1 year old son Nivedh.
When the call from Naina came, telling me she was downstairs, I got ready and walked down the five flights of stairs. Finally, during those short moments, I began to hyperventilate. My body started reacting in all kinds of strange ways- my palms were sweating, I was having trouble breathing, my mouth went completely dry, my legs were numb, and my heart rate doubled. My brain was calling for calm, while my body pulled the alarm and called the fire brigade. I’d experienced this before- I was unmistakably in the early stages of shock.
It was so bad that when I saw Naina sitting in the black Maruti Swift car across the street from the apartment gates with her signature big sunglasses, I froze, and even considered for a split second turning around, going back to the apartment, and trying to concoct some sort of excuse to buy time. The thought flashed violently across my mind, “What am I about to do?”
Naina had already told me she would feel this way on the first day. I had been telling her for weeks what a cool customer I was, and how calm and collected and confident I would be at that moment. It was just the opposite. I had for many weeks had this whole plan in my head for our first moment together: I was going to take her by surprise and do a few classic ballroom dance moves: I was going to twirl her around, and then dip her low to the ground in my arms before she knew what was going on. Instead, since my wobbly legs could barely hold my own self up steadily, and the ground was gravelly and muddy, I decided to just hug her for a few moments instead of risk both of us falling into the mud and ruining my really cool plan, and our clothes. That wasn’t exactly the start I envisioned.
And then Anu showed up right behind me, because in my state of hyperventilation I forgot the chocolates I had brought for Naina from the States because she told me she liked them. Anu realized that I forgot the candy bars in the living room, and ran down with them after me. Anu later told me she thought I looked like I was nervous. That was an understatement.
The rest is more or less history. After we both calmed down sufficiently in the first few minutes, I quickly realized that hanging out with Naina was going even better than my unreasonably high expectations. I knew that I could easily go a lifetime without finding someone who was so compatible with what I wanted. And that people did indeed go a lifetime without meeting such a great match. I think we both knew everything was going to work out by that first day. Whatever we did that day- going to a mall, going to a coffee shop, having lunch at a Chinese restaurant, driving around the sprawling city of Bangalore- was a blur. I spent most of the day pretty dizzy and in disbelief. Already, a number of patterns emerged which I believe will continue for a lifetime. Naina occasionally tuned out and ignored what I said or the waiter said while at lunch. I cracked a bunch of jokes which I thought were truly brilliant, which she didn’t think were funny. And we spent most of the day looking at each other and saying things that weren’t very intelligent. We were nonetheless affirming what we had during the long-distance phase: the arranged marriage process wasn’t about companionship, or fun, or games. From the start it’s about whether you can be married to each other. And we thought so before, and we thought so on that first day. We could sense it without having to say it. If not, you end it right away, which I find to be a huge advantage to the system.
On the second day, we hung out at an awesome little pub called Couch which was owned by Naina’s buddy, named Tina. Tina and I had already had lively email exchanges with my friend Luke, and Tina and I had become instant friends well before my trip. Tina is about as cool and interesting as anyone I know; but more on Tina later. Suffice it to say that it’s very fortuitous, and helpful, to become an instant friend of someone your future fiancée is close to, so I was pretty happy about all of this while the three of us hung out and professed how happy we were to be in this moment after waiting so long for it. And while we were at Couch, I remember looking at Naina and knowing that my mind was completely made up; for many hours I had been thinking and thinking and trying to find a reason, any reason in the universe, to not make the decision soon. An inkling of a doubt, or some piece of information I needed to find out; I couldn’t come up with anything. And then when Naina left the table for a few seconds, a song I really like by Green Day called “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” came on. And I thought to myself, “Good song.” But my unbroken dreams were coming true.
I didn’t want to propose until I met her parents, Naina met my mother, and they had all met each other. As is the norm in these cases, the families were heavily invested in the process, and since they initiated it I wanted them to at least have a glimpse of us together before I pulled the trigger. Indian marriages tend to be more of a union between families and networks than in the United States, and this was no different. On the second day I arrived at Naina’s house and met her family: her mother, father and two little sisters Dipti and Pooja. Quite quickly, a pattern emerged: Naina’s father and I had a lively conversation mostly about American politics which lasted for more than two hours. Naina’s beautiful mother looked at me intently, checking me out but not saying very much. As she probably has conjectured, eyes would be drawn to her anyway. Naina and her sisters tuned in and out, clearly bored with the subject matter, and found it more fun to whisper things and giggle. I knew that I’d hang out with them later at a karaoke joint anyway and we’d get to talk at that point. I was really digging the whole scene and comfortable with everyone, as if I’d been there before- it was a perfectly normal first meeting with the family and couldn’t have gone better.
Afterwards I went out with Naina and her sisters to Opus, a really happening joint where Naina’s close friends, her sisters, and their friends all joined us. Sushanth and Anu also popped in. Wave after wave of people came to meet us, and I was just myself. I liked all of them and they all liked me. More importantly, they could see how happy Naina was to be around me. We talked, and by getting to know her network of friends I was getting a sense of what Naina’s social life was like. And I liked it. “I’m done,” Naina told me later, essentially signaling that any vetting process that may have occurred with her parents, her sisters, and her friends was complete, besides her own made-up mind. I cannot explain how good it felt to hear that.
By the next morning, Monday December 15th, Naina nervously sauntered into Sushanth’s apartment to meet my mom. Of course, as I always knew she would, my mom silently gave me a thumbs-up sign in private before Naina and I went to hang out for the day after spending just a few minutes together. At that time we spoke to my dad on the phone. “Go ahead and do what you want to do,” he said from California. “You don’t need to wait for me.” My father and sister wouldn’t be in India until the end of the week.
So it was over. I knew I was going to propose. I told my mom as much. There was just the matter of the logistics. I had a Western concept of proposing to Naina on one knee with a ring, in a garden or park or restaurant or something, alone. However, my mom requested a more family-oriented approach: she wanted me to propose in front of the whole family, after formally asking her dad for Naina’s hand in marriage. That night, Naina’s parents had invited my mother and my cousin Pooja over for dinner for them all to meet for the first time, which was the last piece of the puzzle before I was set to pull the trigger. The proverbial finger was already itchy. It was unorthodox, or orthodox depending on your point of view; I decided to go for it. If not for my mother, after all, I would never have met Naina. In fact I wouldn’t even be here on this earth.
What ensued was a comedy of errors that would make you nod in recognition if you know my mother, and would probably shock you if you don’t. We were at the Mallya residence, with Naina, her parents, her sisters, my mother, my cousin Pooja, and me. I was a little nervous as we made the small talk, thinking over in my head about proposing. My mother asked Pooja and myself to come into the master bedroom alone with her.”Go and hang out with Naina in the living room,” she said. “I’m going to speak alone with her parents. Pooja, you stay here.”
“What are you going to talk to them about?” I asked, additional tension adding to my baseline nervousness.
“Don’t worry about it. Now go. Send her parents in,” answered my mom. As usual in these cases, I shut up and went along, having no idea what she was up to. Poor Pooja also obeyed, agreeing to remain in the room for an awkward conversation at her aunt’s behest.
I came back out and sent Naina’s parents into the room. “My mother would like to speak to both of you in the room alone,” I said. So they went in. And the door was swung to a near-closed position, although the wind would come through a window and rock it back and forth, adding an eerie note to the proceedings. They were in there for 15 minutes, talking and laughing, but we could not hear what they were talking about.
For Naina, myself, and her two sisters Pooja (not to be confused with my cousin Pooja) and Dipti, it was a long, tense, and awkward wait.
“What do you think they are talking about?” Naina kept asking me.
“I have no idea,” I answered honestly.
“Why can’t we go in?”
“I have no idea.”
“Should I be worried?”
“I have no idea.”
Then her sisters asked the same questions. As the time went on I calmed down, deciding that things were still in my control anyway.
Then they all came out: my mother, my cousin Pooja with her face completely flushed to a beet-red color, and Naina’s parents, serious and unsmiling.
“What happened?” I asked Pooja. All of us were curious, having been in the dark for so long.
“Nothing- the fan was off and I think it was hot in there,” she said unconvincingly, trying to explain away her blushing.
My mom looked at me seriously. “Naina’s father has a lot of questions about you, and needs at least two days more time to talk to you,” she told me, which caught me by total surprise. I thought I was in like Flynn! Questions? Which wouldn’t have come up in over two hours of talking? My heart rate shot up for a few seconds, even though I half-knew that my mom was BS’ing me.
Naren Uncle looked squarely at me- “No, no, that’s not true in the least! Believe me!” he countered. My mother giggled. I wasn’t amused, but that was a relief. A number of awkward pauses followed, and then finally I took a deep breath, and I was ready. My mother nodded her head: the signal.
I got up and walked to Naina’s father sitting nearby, still with a downcast face. “Naren Uncle, can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Can I ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage?”
“Yes,” he said reflexively, probably not thinking that I meant this in an imminent way.
So I took a deep breath, knelt in front of Naina with a rose and the ring that my mother handed to me, and asked Naina, “Will you marry me?” My mother’s eyes filled with tears, Naina’s mother’s eyes filled with tears, and so did her sister Pooja’s.
“Yes,” she said with a smile. And she said it again even when I asked if she was sure.
That’s about it. Except, that’s when I found out that my mother had lowered expectations considerably in the master bedroom by telling Naina’s folks that I needed a lot more time before making a decision- due to my “American-ness” and all that. Of course, they bought it. And that’s why they looked so serious coming out of the room. My mother went on to call a number of relatives and friends, telling them the same thing- that I needed at least another week and wasn’t ready to propose- then handing me the phone to explain what had really happened. “I’m gonna spank her! The brat!” was the most common response I received, in Konkani, when I told each person that in fact I was really engaged, and didn’t need a lecture on how I was supposed to do things in India.
What followed for me that night, and in the weeks since, has been a total calm about the decision I made. I looked at Naina throughout the evening in her green salwar, totally lovely and happy with the choice we both made that night, and I knew I’d made the right decision. Within a few days the whole Mallya family joined my whole family in Udupi for my cousins’ weddings, which could not have been more fortuitous: dozens of relatives, including 5 of my mother’s 6 siblings, my father’s only surviving sister, and many other well-wishers were congregated for the first time in more than 11 years in one place, and Naina was able to meet them all over several whirlwind days. Meanwhile we all met two new families now newly allied with my family through the marriages on December 22nd and 24th of my cousins. And happily, my father and sister finally met Naina and her family and everyone got along famously.
As far as love stories go, it could not have gone better than this for me, and there are more people to thank than I could ever hope to name here. I feel like I’ve won a grammy and need to thank a long list of people who helped make it happen. Even better, I’ve won a Naina.
I can start with Hema Pai of Coimbatore, my aunt Geethakka’s close friend and Naina’s aunt, who first suggested the idea of introducing Naina and myself to each other based on knowing us and our families. Geethakka called me enthusiastically from India to tell me how great the family was after meeting them. There’s also my cuzz Pooja, who was in New York with me when the process started and agreed to do some reconnaissance, meeting Naina at her birthday party in November before I was able to, and giving a hearty thumbs-up. As a Bangalore girl like Naina, who came to New York for the first time and was running around the city like she owned it, Pooja gave me the confidence that I could marry an Indian girl, uproot her away from her home, career, family, and friends, and she could even thrive here. Of course, our parents, who thankfully became fast friends in their own right, which is immensely helpful, and who made this possible by initiating first contact. Finally, for this situation to have happened, a situation where Naina and I both keep telling one another how incredibly lucky we are to have found each other, we feel strongly that there is some higher, powerful force smiling down upon us and always will be. I can also only wish and hope that other people will find something that even remotely approaches a relationship as wonderful as our families have found in so short a time, by whatever path it may be. Though I can assure you that I know as well as anyone that the transition ahead will be challenging for Naina and I as we start a new life in the United States, I’m confident that we will be just fine. Thanks all.
