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********* A Fictitious letter from a Son to his parents *********
Dear Mom and Dad,
I write to you today to thank you for all the blessings I have received. I pen my words to thank you for the education you gave me, the trouble you took to see me hale and hearty. I remember Dad getting me expensive toys when I demanded them and Mom pressuring Dad to fulfil my desires.
Mom and Dad, you supported me when I went for my first interview, got my first job, and gave you my first paycheck. I thank you Mom and Dad for all the wonderful things you did for me.
Mom, when the time came for me to get married, you decided that I would marry the person of your choice. Dad, you made sure that the family from who proposals arrived matched our stature.
You asked the girl if she can cook, you asked her if she could sing. Mom and Dad, you made sure that she matched me in my looks and height. You did not stop at that, you then asked her about her income; how would she distribute it after getting married? You asked her parents about the ‘D’ word. You demanded them a four-wheeler for me to facilitate my commute to office and to take their daughter to movies and outings occasionally. You asked them how much cash they are going to give their daughter, and the weight of gold she is going to get to her marital home. You demanded respect from them even though you never deemed them worthy of any respect.
Mom, Dad, you argued that you are doing this to ensure a bright future for your son. You gave me the best in everything and helped me earn a position of respect in the society. I earn a reasonable salary, thanks to you, to buy myself a car and take care of my family. You enabled me to stand on my own feet and today I am successful enough to give all the comforts you have given me, to my wife and future children. I do not need my in-laws to support me for that.
Further, Mom and Dad, I do not wish to marry a singer or a cook, all I need is a soul mate who will be with me through thick and thin, someone who will love me with all my faults and will not desert me when I am not fit enough to stand on my own. I wish to marry someone who is as human as I am. I do not wish her to have exceptional talents but rather prefer that she is a little humble, a little crazy and a lot more genuine.
Mom and Dad, please stop advertising me in the Bazaar of Arranged Marriages as the latest commodity and cause me discomfort when I look myself in the mirror every morning.
I love you Mom and Dad, but I would love and respect you more if you trust me to find the right person for myself, irrespective of her talents, status and looks.
Indian Son raised as a commodity for Arranged Marriages