Chronicles of Arranged Marriage — Part 1

Yes, folks, arranged marriage is a thing in many countries. It is a sacred process that my ancestors have found in order to find a fuck buddy avoiding eternal loneliness. India mostly consists of horny old hairy single uncles with mustaches hunting for young gullible dainty girls. I am 26 years old now and what does that mean for an Indian woman? She is a ripening fruit which needs to be consumed on time before she rots and her ovaries decay. Not everyone ends up like Kumail from The Big Sick and I am afraid I am going to be one of them. This is some serious outrageous nonsensical shit and I want to talk about it.


My family creates a dreadfully boring profile about me on most of the popular matrimony websites present out there. Believe me, it’s all a lie. Come on ma, you know that’s not me in the display picture! Seriously, who the fuck is that, me ten years ago? I don’t ever remember being that skinny or tall or even that light skinned. The “About me” section has like two lines. Is that all you have to say about me, Mom? My profile also says I am a social drinker, lie. I don’t drink! Just kidding. There is no swiping right on these matrimony apps. Ostensibly if the guy’s parents are interested in me by just looking at my photoshopped photos they would reach out to my family. My family consists of an adopted sister, crazy old grandmother, a mum who thinks she is still seventeen and a doggo named “Miso” who likes to fart a lot.

Step 2:

As my grandma is in such a hurry for my amalgamation with a stranger, she gives my number to random families freely. Yay open season on me. One of my potential husband’s (Mr. K) ended up finding my profile on Facebook. Facebook really needs to work on its security. You hear that Mark Zuckerberg! you are making the hunt easy. Mr.K thinks Game of Thrones is a joke, Spotify is a computer game and that broccoli is a sacred food sent from heaven. I like that he is super funny, easy going with an open mind and a hot body. I had to turn him down because he was only 2 inches taller than me. The average height of an Indian man is 5ft 5in and I want my man to be above average.

Mr. R coming up.

To be continued ….

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