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Arranged marriages through matrimonial sites or through word of mouth have become a joke where everything other than a woman's self is considered - after all, who cares what she wants, right?
Arranged marriages through matrimonial sites or through word of mouth have become a joke where everything other than a woman’s self is considered – after all, who cares what she wants, right?
I came across the opportunity to apply for the position of ‘Wife’ in your esteemed family. I have gone through the details of the position, and your expectations from the incumbent, on the matrimonial website.
Please find below my profile which details my skills, qualifications and background information, for your perusal. Eagerly await your response.
Single girl in her early 30’s (nearly off-the-shelf)
(tweaked based on expectations cited on the matrimonial site) I spent 21 years equipping myself with knowledge, skills and information that hold no significance in this process.
In those 21 years I was told to show achievement orientation, problem solve, develop leadership qualities, be competitive and cultivate a well-rounded personality.
However, I have also been trained to repress most of my desires, opinions and abilities to ensure I do not cross the gender-roles I have been assigned, and demonstrate a benign and genteel persona at all times.
Post Graduate degree in a vocation, but my true qualifications lie in the domain of surreptitious self-expression and postured conformation to social dictates.
None, because all my previous relationships have been erased from memory and all social records are preserved under strict confidence. Any trace of a previous physical relationship will also be omitted from acknowledgement or recollection*
I hope to never give you a chance for such an evaluation, but considering your high expectations, I acknowledge the likelihood.
Parents’ details (as I’m not so forward to share my own)
Based on the 20 or so interviews that I have attended in the last few years since I became eligible for this role. For sample templates to create your own resume, do get in touch.
Stay tuned to know interview tips that will land you the job!
Image source: a still from the movie Dum Laga Ke Haisha
Meenakshi Iyer is known to put the "fun" in dysfunction.
Writer, poet, avid reader she is known for her pragmatism, whimsical personality, and obscure inclinations.
Meenakshi published her first book of poems, 'Briste' in 2014.
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
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I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
Every daughter, no matter how old, yearns to come home to her parents' place - ‘Home’ to us is where we were brought up with great care till marriage served us an eviction notice.
Every year Dugga comes home with her children and stays with her parents for ten days. These ten days are filled with fun and festivity. On the tenth day, everyone gathers to feed her sweets and bids her a teary-eyed adieu. ‘Dugga’ is no one but our Goddess Durga whose annual trip to Earth is scheduled in Autumn. She might be a Goddess to all. But to us, she is the next-door girl who returns home to stay with her parents.
When I was a child, I would cry on the day of Dashami (immersion) and ask Ma, “Why can’t she come again?” My mother would always smile back.
I mouthed the same dialogue as a 23-year-old, who was home for Durga Puja. This time, my mother graced me with a reply. “Durga is fortunate to come home at least once. But many have never been home after marriage.”
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