Thanks to my mother, I feel like I was born and raised to just get married

I was born and brought up to be married eventually, or so I feel. Photo Courtesy: YouTube

It all began on the day I came out of my mother's womb. The moment the doctor handed over her baby girl to my mother, the cozy white sheet wrapped around the newborn me instantly turned into some sort of a red chola in my mother's head.

I've been told that she would often ask my father to take her out for a walk while she still lay weak after her delivery on that hospital's bed. But I know for a fact that it wasn't the need to get out of the suffocating atmosphere that led her to make those demands. In all probability, she just wanted to check out handsome newborn males around for me.

Almost 24 long years have passed since then and apart from becoming mature, I have also come to realize that this number isn't just a painful reminder of Anil Kapoor's desi rip off of the American T.V. series 24. It also is the age when my mother's 'get married ASAP' siren is getting louder at the rate of 24 megadecibels per 24 milliseconds.

She Has Made Her Life's Mission Into My Life's Mission

Since seeing me walk down the aisle is her current obsession in life--even more important than discussing Pammi aunty's fake gold necklace that wore at Gitanjali aunty's party. But talk about Pammi aunty's niece getting married to Gitanjali aunty's nephew and she will be more interested than Sherlock on a complicated case.

However, she forgets the fact that my interests are still not aligned with hers. I'd much rather b**ch about a wannabe Bappi Lahiri aunty's fashion sense than sit through a discussion about my marriage.

In Mom's Head I am Already Married, I Guess

I am yet to meet my Prince Charming. But my mother, it seems has already met him. In fact, she seems to know this imaginary problematic character of my life along with his imaginary, even more problematic family inside out.

How else do you think that mom already knows that my to-be husband (who she is still searching for) and his family would have a problem with me waking up at 10 am during weekends or not oiling my hair at night or with me taking close to an hour in the shower? Who knows they probably even have problems about me picking my nose in private?

They could be watching me already for all I know. At least that's how my mother makes me feel.

Oh! Now I know the reason behind my constipation too. I can't poop in peace due to this fear of being watched, you know. And mom unnecessarily keeps blaming my bowel problems on junk food when her non-existent samdhis are to be blamed.

My Life Already Revolves Around My Mother's Imaginary Damaad

A male friend of mine once told my mother that he prefers women with long hair in the most non-sexist, casual manner. Now everyone has their preferences, except, my friend's came to bite me in the ass.

Just because those words came out of a man's mouth, it was automatically presumed by my mother that the whole male species finds women with long hair more attractive. The result? Well, it been more than a year since I last visited my hair cutter. He misses me and my split-ends are screaming out loud for a trim, if not a full-fledged haircut. But no! My mother's imaginary damaad likes long hair, hence I have to maintain my mane.

On a Serious Note…

This may sound like a typical Punjabi-mother behavior, but it's not all fun and games, you know. Because this behavior makes me feel like marriage is pressurizing and I feel like running away from it even more. The fact is that marriage is a part of life, not your whole life and I wish this is what we girls are taught.

Also read: The diary of a 24-year-old eligible bachelorette, who is mentally unprepared to get married.