The magazines piled on the tables of every waiting room were the best. When the receptionist wasn’t looking you would tear out the posters and stuff them in your school bag. Once home it would get neatly ironed out and straight inside the wardrobe with the rest of the pile of heart throbs. Dare you hang them up any place visible to any naked eye – they must remain a secret.

Like the forbidden fruit from the story of Adam and Eve (well, Adam and Bibi Hawa for her) She only had go to near the forbidden pile of images to feel the intensity of heightened excitement, the butterflies in the tummy and the racing heart.

Is this what people felt when they fell in love, she ruminated, and she pondered. The collection of images were special. Almost sacred to her.

The word Love

Growing up, love was everywhere she looked, as well as in places she didn’t look.

Powerful love, intense love, a fierce type of love. The type of love that says ‘ If anyone looks at my sister, they die’

The type of love that said ‘ My sister remains pure’ ‘She is a diamond she needs to be protected’ and ‘our sister is our honour’

Yes, love was in abundance. But, the love was a little unkind. It was little scary.

You knew you were loved and you also knew you existed.

All the friends you keep, places you go and things you read needed approval. Everything required the mighty approval. Even the clothes you wear had to be ticked against the checklist.

You had to deliberately make yourself look unattractive when going out, just in case you get stopped at the front door. Yes, you did existed. You were never invisible.

You learnt as you went along, adapting to the new rules that come into place, sometimes without any logic behind them…

One day, it is okay to look out the window but the next day it isn’t. You’re told ‘’The neighbours may talk, it will taint our honour. We love you, remember, you Are – Our honour.’’ The burden of lugging around ‘the honour’ got pretty heavy at the end of every day.

Puberty

Where did the time go, look you’ve grown up. We must fulfil OUR duty and find you a suitable life partner. A man who will look after you for the rest of your life, just like we have done all these years. You will continue upholding our honour and when you go there, you will carry HIS family’s honour.

It was time for the respectful handover process. The transition.

The photos started pouring in, potential grooms in all different shapes and sizes – Good lord, some were pretty soul destroying.

The visits followed shortly afterwards, then came the inspection of the bride. Rejection was tough, even though it came from some ugly f******.

Too short some said, too skinny, her nose isn’t sharp enough, She’s not educated enough …

One final match was made, and everyone was so excited. Almost felt like they were all getting married. There was jubilation and excitement, as though the festivals of Eid, Diwali, Christmas and Halloween were being celebrated all at the same time.

There was authorisation to see each other in the presence of chaperons in the home. Her first impression – He was handsome, well-spoken and a true gentleman. Nothing to fault (sadly)

But there was an absence of emotion. Neither did the butterflies flutter, nor was there a racing pulse. The mind, body and spirit did not feel a scintilla of passion of any scale. Everything stood still, cold and decided.

The dates for the wedding were set and her economic stability for the future planned out by everyone; everyone. Land from back home, gold jewellery, furniture, down to every kitchen utensil?!

In three months’ time you belong to your husband. On the wedding day you will enter his house, his world, and you accept his ways and habits of life, leaving behind the ways and habits you had acquired.

The wedding day

Before leaving the family home for the final time, she had one last goodbye to make. In her full Bollywood queen outfit, she reluctantly walked to her wardrobe. She took out all the posters she’d collated over the years…an enormous and priceless collection!

She touched the pile and Geromino, the sudden rush of butterflies took over her body in its entirety, the racing pulses, and the pounding heart, so hard her chest hurt. One by one she looked at the images… mountains, waterfalls, tropical beaches, caves, horses, elephants, marine life, coral islands and right at the bottom, a huge collage of Brad Pitt! Interview with the vampire, Legends of the fall, Fight club.

Butterflies and heartbeat

That moment she knew, what she was feeling was love and attraction.

Throughout her life she was surrounded by handsome Asian males, but she never had those feelings for them, no secret crushes no fantasies. She knew it wasn’t for her.

She looked down at all the images, these were her dreams, her motivation her future visions… Laughter, Adventure and Love – A companion she chooses and finds attractive.

At that moment – She wondered what would happen if she said she wanted to marry outside the culture? The thought made her stomach churn with fear.

Deep breath

Time to grow up she thought –Tonight, I will be in a man’s bed, whom I don’t even know. Time to grow up stupid girl! She took another deep breath. She gently folded ALL the images into small pieces and then placed them gently in the bin – with no emotion.

Yes, even her beloved blue eyed blond-haired super crush.

Leaving the house – She was told: Don’t Laugh and Don’t cry.

Fitteen years on – She reflects back.

The connection happened, the 1^st , 2^nd and all the other nights happened, the kids came, celebrations happened, the grief from in laws happened, financial hardship happened, mental illness happened, couple conflict happened, ruptures continue to happen and so do the repairs – The union of marriage is still intact. Because – because he is still the handsome, well-spoken and a true gentleman. Nothing to fault (sadly).

Everything happened. Sadly, the madness of real love didn’t happen. The butterflies never came. The heart was beating at the same pace, all these years.

She asked her younger self ‘My dear, what is the meaning of marriage?’’

The younger self replied ‘’Self-sacrifice and upholding family honour’’

Deep breathe

She asked her older self ‘’You fool, what is the meaning of marriage?

Marriage is symbolic and should not make a difference to how you feel. Marriage is about the strength of the relationship. You must feel the connection and feel attraction and most importantly, feel the Love. Yet again, she pondered the idea of love; how much the absence of it ached on some days, but how she bore the burden of honour on most days. She was carrying this organised HONOUR relentlessly, and now finds herself into the latter years of her adulthood.

Now is the time, she said out loud to herself – now WAS the time for her.

Love was, and love will forever remain an emotion so deep, a

sentiment beyond belief and a feeling unseen which she will grab onto with dear life the next time she felt an iota of those missed butterflies —— anywhere along the peripheries.

When Love is within reach now – The burden of honour will not get in the way- this time.

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