Bride and without prejudice

It’s easy to dismiss Bindu’s gimmicky idea as an attention-seeking tactic — there are monetary benefits to growing her 25,000+ Instagram followers and getting talked about on Twitter. Except, her fantasy to be a bride in a fairy tale ceremony (minus the painful pitfalls of commitment) is one secretly shared by many of this generation, who view the concept of lifelong wedded bliss a tad suspiciously. Till Death Do Us Part. Really? Worldwide, marriage is on a downward trajectory.

But should that mean one is denied a magical Cinderella moment, of being the centre of attraction in the greatest celebration of love ever invented – a wedding? To the bemused reactions flooding the Internet, Bindu stated, “I don’t require a Prince Charming because I am my own queen. I want the wedding day, not the next day”.

Bindu’s bold wedding deserves newsprint space only because too many women wait around for grand, sweeping gestures by men: the bended knee proposal with the ubiquitous diamond ring, drilled into our psyche by cheesy Hollywood films. India hasn’t escaped the cultural contagion of over-the-top nuptials — a man has proposed during an important cricket match, the girl’s reaction aired on live television. (It’s not enough to show you’re rich, you need to be creative too.)

The theatrics around modern Indian weddings feel contrived since everything is about documenting perfection for the world. Along comes a girl who acknowledges the lure of the phoney circus, conveniently disposes of (arguably) the biggest challenge a marriage brings – a forever fixture, the partner. From a cynical perspective, Bindu’s is a unique case of having your cake and eating it too.

More power to someone for channeling their inner Oscar Wilde, who observed that learning to love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance. It’s true that people come and go, so best be your own companion. Besides, is it really so terrible to suspend reality and indulge in drama for one day, knowing fully well that fundamentally, nothing’s changing? Perhaps what people find most offensive about Bindu’s radical act of self love (disregarding a significant other) is her confident assertion that there can be several ways to live — and that they are all correct. One has to wonder, however, if cherry picking the good out of matrimony, the clothes, the ceremony and traditions, and avoiding risk at all costs, is an even more profound delusion than the long and happy monogamous marriage.

Acting on principles of self-preservation works if one is trapped in a war zone but to feel the full adrenaline impact of romance requires relinquishing control. The most meaningful moments in our lives involve the lovely surprise of rationality being swept away by feelings. To love another, there is a risk of humiliation but to marry yourself because the alternative is fraught with danger means not really living at all. As a concept, “sologamy” is bittersweet, in keeping with these times where indestructibility is valued over vulnerability. It makes for a good chuckle, if it was not so sad that some will never know what the world looks like from a place of enthrallment.