My Loveless Indian Marriage

I’m a divorced woman now in my 40s. Mine was a typical Indian arranged marriage in my 20s. I had said yes to a proposal after saying no to many others, simply to keep my parents happy. They were worried that I didn’t want to get married at all. Back then, moving away from your parents or going against their wishes over something like marriage wasn’t really an option. You just did what they wanted.

Unlike my cousins and my elder siblings, who were eager to get married, I knew the typical Indian marriage scenario wasn’t for me. I realized this when I was still in my teens and early 20s. I’m an introvert who loves her alone time, more than the average introvert. I’m borderline a loner. Anyone who knew me as a kid can vouch for this. I rarely left the house. I still don’t. The activities I enjoyed as a kid remain more or less the same activities I enjoy now – reading, listening to music, watching TV, zoning out.

So, the idea of entering an Indian arranged marriage with a complete stranger, suddenly being expected to feel “love” for this person, giving up most of my free time, and making an effort to stay in touch with his family members and friends on a regular basis? I wasn’t sure I was cut out for any of it.

It’s easier for a man to remain a loner even after getting married. He can keep his distance from his wife’s family, not attend every event, and face little to no criticism for it. I have seen this in my extended family. But an Indian woman is expected to play a much more social role in marriage. She’s supposed to make a conscious effort to bond with her husband’s family, stay in touch with relatives, plan get-togethers, attend all events, and do all the little things that keep everyone connected. For someone like me, who values her personal space, that felt like a lot to take on.

After watching my parents grow increasingly disappointed with my constant rejection of marriage proposals, I finally gave in. I’d even tried a few dramatic ways to get the guys to reject me. Think Roja style, claiming I had a boyfriend! In one case, things almost reached the engagement stage before I told the guy that I had no romantic feelings for him and was starting to develop sisterly feelings for him instead. I’m not proud of any of these stories. I know I hurt those guys, their families, and my own family in the process. Looking back, I wish I’d handled things differently. But I’m also empathetic towards the younger me, knowing that I did such things out of sheer desperation, as there was no other way out.

Until then, I’d been the quintessential “good girl” in my family. I did well in my studies, didn’t party late at night (obviously, due to my loner tendencies), was polite, and didn’t talk back to my parents. So, needless to say, they were quite taken aback when this new, rebellious side of me emerged. Suddenly, I was the daughter who is problematic because she didn’t want to get married.

Then, one day, after seeing my parents get emotional, I decided that I would say yes to the next arranged marriage proposal that came my way, no matter who the guy was.

My parents chose a guy. I thought he was fairly good-looking, and he seemed quite smitten with me at the time. I finally said yes.

And that’s how my arranged marriage happened.

My goal was simple: make it work somehow. I thought love might bloom eventually, just as people kept telling me it would. Maybe I would be one of those people who fell in love after marriage.

Around that time, Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi was released. I remember going to the theatre and feeling a little emotional when the song “Haule Haule Ho Jayega Pyaar” started playing. The line means that love will arrive slowly and steadily. At that point in my life, I genuinely felt as though the song had been written for me. I was sitting there, wondering the same thing over and over again: Will I ever fall in love with this person?

Society had taught me that love wasn’t all that important anyway. What mattered was settling down, getting married, and making the relationship work. So, I settled. But love never made its presence felt. And that frustrated both of us.

Looking back, I don’t think love ever stood much of a chance in our marriage because we were incompatible in so many ways. We weren’t compatible intellectually, emotionally, or physically. We could be two perfectly decent people individually and still bring out the worst in each other as a couple.

We belonged to the same caste, and our horoscopes matched. Everything was right on paper. Yet there was no warmth between us. Instead of feeling like two partners building a life together, our relationship felt like one bound by orthodox rules and expectations. He believed the husband should have the final say in decision-making. I was a feminist. He even told me that I shouldn’t read too many books because they would make me delusional about how the real world works. Apparently, ignorance is bliss. It was the first and last time in my life that someone told me reading was a bad habit.

Naturally, things went downhill.

Could I have said and done all the right things to keep the marriage going? Absolutely. But that would have meant spending a lifetime compromising, suppressing parts of myself, and settling for someone who wasn’t right for me. And honestly, it wouldn’t have been fair to him either. He deserved a partner who was genuinely compatible with him, just as I deserved the same.

This is what I wish more people understood. Being from the same caste and having matching horoscopes might tick the boxes that families consider important. But those things alone cannot guarantee a happy marriage. They don’t tell you whether two people share similar values, respect each other’s opinions, connect emotionally, or want the same things from life.

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Photo by Anoop VS

Not an MJ Fan, But This Movie Won Me Over!

Okay, I have to be honest first. I’m not a diehard Michael Jackson fan, which is probably why it took me some time to finally watch Michael. I’m actually not a diehard fan of any celebrity or public figure – you know, the kind of fan who can’t even hear anything negative about their hero without getting defensive.

I always tiptoe around such fans, concerned about whether I would offend them. This has been the case after one specific personal incident. I remember discussing a controversy with someone who was a huge MJ fan, and he went absolutely batshit crazy. He started abusing me simply because I pointed out the news when it came out.

So, in a world full of different kinds of “bhakts” covering politicians across ideologies, sportsmen, football clubs, actors, singers, influencers, religion, and everything else, I’m pretty much bhaktless. It still baffles me when people treat their favorite personalities as gods who can do no wrong or act as if they cannot be questioned.

But having said all that, I really enjoyed this movie! It was genuinely so much fun to watch.

I’m guessing there’s going to be a sequel because this movie seems to focus mainly on Michael Jackson’s troubled relationship with his father. There’s clearly a lot more of his life and career to explore.

Jaafar Jackson’s acting was phenomenal. To be cast in the lead role of his uncle might have been intimidating, but he passed with flying colors.

The song and dance sequences in the movie were incredibly energetic. The movie left me with one big feeling: positive vibes!

Michael is streaming on JioHotstar.

It’s Okay to Not Be Okay: Moon Gang-tae Has Officially Ruined Men for Women Everywhere

I kept delaying watching It’s Okay to Not Be Okay because I have a bit of an aversion to hospital dramas. Several friends had recommended this popular Korean drama to me, but I kept putting it off. I was judging the series by its title, and honestly, I wasn’t in the mood for what I assumed would be an intense emotional rollercoaster.

I finally took the plunge a couple of weeks ago.

It took me some time to finish the series because each episode runs for over an hour, and there are 16 episodes in total. I am also not much of a binge-watcher, especially when a series deals with serious or emotionally heavy topics. So yes, completing It’s Okay to Not Be Okay took me a while.

But the time I took to finish it doesn’t take away from the fact that It’s Okay to Not Be Okay is an entertaining, thoughtful and beautifully layered K-drama.

Let’s talk about the male lead first.

Moon Gang-tae, played by the enigmatic Kim Soo-hyun, is such a major green flag that he might just make pursuing relationships in the real world a tad more difficult for women. Because honestly, who can even compete with this kind of surreal charm, patience and thoughtfulness?

He is calm, sorted, emotionally aware and dependable. He is the person you would want beside you when things get difficult. He handles uncomfortable situations with a level of maturity and emotional intelligence that makes you think, “Yes, this is exactly how my partner should behave.”

Basically, Moon Gang-tae is the ultimate go-to guy.

Go Moon-young, played by Seo Yea-ji, is completely different.

She is volatile, unpredictable and unapologetically herself. But beneath all that intensity, she also shows moments of compassion when the situation calls for it. She has a magnetic personality. What makes her even more interesting is that she knows exactly how powerful her presence can be and the effect she has on people.

She is not the easiest character to understand, but she is definitely difficult to ignore.

For me, though, the real star of It’s Okay to Not Be Okay was Oh Jung-se. He plays Moon Sang-tae, the autistic older brother of the male lead, and his performance was so convincing that there were moments when I genuinely wondered whether he was autistic in real life. Yes, I actually Googled him. That, in itself, says a lot about how convincing his portrayal was.

His performance was heartfelt, nuanced and incredibly believable. In my opinion, he absolutely deserved every award and recognition that came his way for this role.

At its core, It’s Okay to Not Be Okay is a serious drama that explores mental well-being, emotional healing, trauma, relationships and the process of learning to accept oneself.

But despite its heavier subjects, the series doesn’t feel emotionally exhausting all the time. I enjoyed the little moments of humour scattered throughout the episodes. They provide some much-needed lightness and make the story feel more balanced.

And the BTS scenes towards the end were absolutely adorable. Seeing the camaraderie between the cast members behind the scenes was a lovely bonus after spending so much time with these characters.

Overall, I found It’s Okay to Not Be Okay to be an entertaining and thoughtful Korean drama. It took me a while to finish, but by the end of it, I was glad I finally gave this much-recommended series a chance.

It’s Okay to Not Be Okay is currently streaming on Netflix.

Breaking Taboos, One Bindi at a Time

The other day, a neighbour came over for a chat.

She’s a Muslim and a communist. I mention both because it helps explain the situation. Despite coming from a deeply religious and conservative family, she’s personally quite liberal.

She told me how her daughter landed in trouble for posting a photo on social media wearing a bindi, the small forehead dot traditionally worn by many Indian women, especially Hindus.

Her sister’s daughters, who apparently keep tabs on everyone’s social media, spotted the photo, shared it with the rest of the family, and turned it into a full-blown controversy.

The best part?

The girl refused to delete the photo.

I told my neighbour something I genuinely believe. If someone has an irrational “allergy” to something completely harmless, the solution isn’t to hide it. The solution is to let them see it so often that it eventually becomes normal.

If a harmless bindi causes outrage, keep wearing it until people get used to seeing it.

If colours like saffron, orange, or green trigger unnecessary controversy, keep wearing them until they stop attracting attention. This is related to the incessant mockery that the actress Priya Prakash Varrier faced in Kerala from a journalist for appearing in a Cuticura campaign wearing a Orange coloured outfit (or in his words “Saffron-coloured”). She had chosen the outfit simply to match the brand’s colours. Even something as ordinary as a dress colour became a point of criticism.

Similarly, if being divorced is treated as a stigma, then more divorced people should stop hiding, own the label without shame, and help normalize it.

That’s how irrational taboos lose their power. Not through arguments, but through familiarity. When ordinary people refuse to feel ashamed of harmless personal choices, those choices gradually stop being controversial.

I’m obviously not saying, “Keep using drugs until people get used to it.” I’m talking about harmless personal choices, whether it’s wearing a bindi, choosing a colour, or being divorced, that other people feel entitled to police.

The more these everyday choices are seen in public, the less power stigma and social policing have over people’s lives.

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Photo by Sharath G.

Musafir Cafe: For The Ones We Loved and Lost

If you’ve ever loved and lost, you’ll probably relate to Musafir Cafe.

The yearning, confusion, helplessness, and desperate search for closure all felt incredibly real. It is one of those rare romance dramas that understands that moving on isn’t as simple as people make it seem.

Love is rarely a straight road, yet many Bollywood romance films still portray it that way. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, and the conflicts are usually external, whether it’s parents, caste, or society.

While those issues absolutely continue to exist today, many modern relationships fall apart for entirely different reasons. Ego clashes, incompatibility, poor communication, bad timing, emotional baggage, and countless other factors play a role.

Relationships are layered and complicated, so why are we still confined to the typical boy-meets-girl stories?

That is where Musafir Cafe stands out. Instead of polishing relationships into something easy to consume, it embraces the messiness of love. The emotions feel raw, honest, and deeply human.

Even when the characters move forward with their lives, the past never completely disappears. And that’s exactly how real life works. We all carry pieces of our past relationships with us. They shape who we become. Some people turn them into lessons, while others carry the bitterness into every relationship that follows.

I haven’t read the book that Musafir Cafe is based on, and I actually think that worked in my favor. Once you’ve read the original book, comparisons are almost impossible to avoid. Going into the Netflix series without those expectations allowed me to experience the story exactly as it unfolded, without constantly measuring it against the source material.

The standout performance for me was Vedika Pinto as Sudha. A very close second was Mahima Makwana as Preeti, only because she wasn’t given enough screen time. But the moment she broke down in sheer helplessness, I found myself tearing up too. That fear of losing everything precious to you felt painfully relatable.

What resonated with me even more was her attempt to handle the situation with maturity despite the emotional turmoil. That part felt deeply personal because I’m exactly the same when it comes to matters of love. I don’t create a scene. I create space for the other person to process their emotions, even when it hurts.

Another refreshing aspect of Musafir Cafe was how natural everyone looked on screen. No obvious lip fillers or overly polished appearances. It reminded me of the 90s, when actors looked more relatable and expressive.

It was also nice to see small black bindis, black kajal, long earrings, and flowy Indian outfits take center stage again. These were once iconic Bollywood fashion staples but have become less common with the rise of minimalist beauty trends. Whether you prefer minimalism or not, there’s no denying that these little details add a certain charm and charisma to female characters.

Personally, I’ve always felt that black kajal has a depth that brown kajal simply doesn’t. It frames the eyes in a way that’s hypnotic. It’s probably one of the reasons people on Reddit still bring up Alia Bhatt’s looks in films like 2 States and Badrinath Ki Dulhania. Her bold black kajal became such a defining part of those looks.

If you’re looking for a heartwarming yet emotionally honest Netflix series, I’d definitely recommend giving Musafir Cafe a watch. It has around 8 episodes, making it an easy binge.

The Best Part of Project Hail Mary Wasn’t The Space Adventure

The most impressive part of Project Hail Mary isn’t the science, the space adventure, or the mission. It’s the friendship between two complete opposites. Two beings who don’t share the same language, appearance, history, or culture, yet somehow come together to create something beautiful.

When you think about it, we’re all aliens to someone from another culture. The way we speak, the food we eat, the way we dress, our traditions, our manners, everything can feel unfamiliar.

But those differences disappear when there’s mutual respect and a genuine willingness to understand and acknowledge each other. That’s what makes the friendship in Project Hail Mary special. It reminds you that connection doesn’t always need similarity. Sometimes, it just needs empathy.

It’s also the kind of friendship you wish existed in real life. The kind where someone chooses to stay, no matter how uncomfortable or polarizing things get.

Recently, I came across a beautiful Instagram post about what it means to be consciously “kept” in someone’s life, to be chosen day after day, without giving up. It stayed with me because I’ve had friendships and relationships that didn’t last. Sometimes I was the one who didn’t want to continue. Other times, they didn’t. But in almost every case, at least one of us wanted it to survive. We wanted the other person not to walk away. We hoped they would understand, stay, or try a little harder. It’s neither’s fault, because everyone has their own breaking point, but you can’t help hold that idealistic thought that we would all fight to keep each other.

When you eventually realize that you’re the only one doing that fighting, it hurts. It affects your self-esteem. “Wasn’t I worth it?” It’s one of those heartbreaks that doesn’t always have a dramatic ending. You move on, quietly. Accepting it as your fate. Other times, you dwell in self-pity.

But some things can never be forced. Not love. Not affection. And certainly not friendship.

Watching Project Hail Mary reminded me of all of that. I don’t know if a friendship as pure and selfless as the one in the movie really exists, but it was comforting to watch. It made me believe, at least for a couple of hours, that such connections are possible.

I wish I had watched it on the big screen instead of on Amazon Prime. The visuals are absolutely stunning, and this is one of those sci-fi movies that deserves to be experienced in a theater. Still, I’m glad I finally watched it.

And Ryan Gosling was simply fantastic. At no point does it feel like he’s acting. He disappears into the character so completely that you forget you’re watching one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. That’s always the sign of a great performance.

I would absolutely recommend watching the movie on the biggest screen at home if possible. Streaming on Amazon Prime.