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Author Topic:   ah well got to tell u somethng .........
cancerrg
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posted October 07, 2007 10:26 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for cancerrg     Edit/Delete Message
:::So, Cancerrg, how is the search going and just how do you do this search?????
:::

No success ! i think i'll have intensify the search .
this is a tough job1 getting you a good wife

the search has a complete system , traditionally the priests or the barber (in most of the communities) go and ask for girl' s hand if she is found suitable .
there are professional matchmakers too .

and now there is , internet , just like dating sites , we have marriage sites where u can get a glimpse of the prospects , now a bit of them and send interest - something that i am doing currently .

but no success till date , pray for me
i really want a good wife


yeah Dulce , that movie is real treat .
the witches played by two policemen , one of them is an astrologer too which hints maqbool what to do .
and the wife , that role was essayed by Tabu a very fine actress , she isn't a looker but you got to see how she uses her sexiness . terrific !
a woman can do everything with her eyes without shreding a single piece of cloth , the scene proves it .

thanks Miran ! how are you doing ? howz life ?

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Dulce Luna
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posted October 10, 2007 09:12 PM     Click Here to See the Profile for Dulce Luna     Edit/Delete Message
quote:
yeah Dulce , that movie is real treat .
the witches played by two policemen , one of them is an astrologer too which hints maqbool what to do .
and the wife , that role was essayed by Tabu a very fine actress , she isn't a looker but you got to see how she uses her sexiness . terrific !
a woman can do everything with her eyes without shreding a single piece of cloth , the scene proves it .

Ohhhhhh, astrologers! Interesting. And yeah, I have to see that now that you...its sounds good. I hope she is a fine Lady MacBeth coz honestly, I love Lady MacBeth despite her craziness.

And good luck with your wife-search.

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cancerrg
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posted October 11, 2007 09:41 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for cancerrg     Edit/Delete Message
thanks Dulce !
and yeah the actress is a scorpion !

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Dulce Luna
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posted October 12, 2007 08:06 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for Dulce Luna     Edit/Delete Message
Awesome! Only a Plutonian could portray the woman so damn accurately.

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NeptuneLove
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posted October 12, 2007 09:34 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for NeptuneLove     Edit/Delete Message
quote:
a woman can do everything with her eyes without shreding a single piece of cloth

Were you talking about me ?

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cancerrg
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posted October 13, 2007 02:38 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for cancerrg     Edit/Delete Message

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NeptuneLove
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posted October 13, 2007 05:05 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for NeptuneLove     Edit/Delete Message

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SattvicMoon
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posted October 14, 2007 02:20 PM     Click Here to See the Profile for SattvicMoon     Edit/Delete Message
How is it going mister?

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cancerrg
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posted October 15, 2007 01:53 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for cancerrg     Edit/Delete Message
still no luck !

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Dulce Luna
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posted November 11, 2007 09:49 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for Dulce Luna     Edit/Delete Message
Hey, Rg....I haven't spoken to you in like the longest time! How goes the search? Anywho, I found this article the and this topic actually came up in my psych class last week sooooo......I remembered this thread and Pez now wants to share.


Mrs. Stranger


Most Americans have sex on the third date. I married my husband after meeting him for the third time. I'm Indian, and having an arranged marriage is something that my ancient culture still thinks is a great idea.

Since the day I was born, my parents had been planning this occasion. When I was 20, they presented me with my first proposal. I found him overbearing, and I desperately hoped there would be more suitors. There were. But I passed on every Raj, Arun, and Sanjay — too fat, too boring, too short.

By age 26, after attending more than 150 weddings, I was fast approaching my "expiration date." So my parents put pressure on our community — not to mention my relatives — to find The One. They urged me to be more flexible, and I had no reason to argue. Being a spinster in Indian society is considered an embarrassment, a burden on the family. I was raised to think a smiling groom, approved and blessed by my parents, was the ultimate achievement. While Western teenagers spent summers working the cash register at the mall, I spent mine learning to sew and cook so that I could someday be a successful wife.

After endless auditions of eligible bachelors, my family short-listed a Wall Street banker — an Indian living in New York, who happened to be in town on his annual 10-day visit to see his family. My cousin had arranged for a casual encounter between our two families during high tea at her home. He was tall, dark, and 29. Sporting funky eyeglasses and a sharp blazer in Mumbai's 100-degree heat, he spoke with an American accent that I found knee-knockingly sexy. The second time I saw him was at a dinner orchestrated by both families, where our parents decided on the spot that this was my guy. There was something about his demeanor, his soft, lilting voice, and the pleasing way he interacted with my family — frankly, we all fell for him.

My parents were ecstatic, and truthfully, I was pleased to be the reason for their joy. One week later, his mother called my mother, and by the end of the phone call, we were engaged. Shouts and hugs were exchanged throughout the neighborhood — you'd have thought I'd won an Olympic gold medal.

A wedding date was set for six months later, the venue picked, and a guest list of a thousand finalized. As the preparations began and wedding invitations were hand-delivered, I visited with friends and said my good-byes. Of course, I was anxious about being shipped halfway across the world to the U.S. I was giving up my cultural identity and lifestyle: Indian monsoons; colorful saris; conversations in my mother tongue; the inquisitive neighbors, cousins, and aunts; and most of all, the food.

But on the other hand, it was nice to finally be engaged. And the very fact that I was getting hitched to an Indian living in America made me royalty.

Traditionally in India, the bride's father pays for the weeklong ceremony. He also provides a "dowry" — cash that accompanies the bride from her old home to her new one and serves as her financial security — sort of an ancient prenup. In today's urban India, it's couched in a package of fabulous parties, elegant saris, and, of course, heirloom jewels that mothers have cleverly been amassing since their daughters were born. My future in-laws, however, insisted on sharing the financial burden, setting the stage for an equitable and very modern marriage.

For months, my 16 aunts slaved away, putting together a trousseau of the wildest, boldest silks. My mother became the conductor of this grand orchestra, giving orders and coordinating schedules. The days when the preparations felt overwhelming were actually the ones when I was least afraid of my future. In America, I wouldn't be governed by in-laws, nosy neighbors, or relatives checking on whether I was following tradition. I imagined freedom. Relief. Independence.


The wedding was preceded by six days of partying, each one centering on a small religious ceremony, plus a social gathering featuring fireworks, feasting, music, and Bollywood-style dancing. Each day required a different outfit, jewelry, hairdo, and makeup. Rather than the bachelorette parties I'd later learn about in the States — where someone might end up with a "Chuck Forever" tattoo — at home in Mumbai, my girlfriends and I partook in a henna hand-painting ritual to beautify me for my future husband.

After the henna ceremony, two of my cousins took me aside and gave me the CliffsNotes on the birds and bees. Combine an Indian upbringing with a Catholic-school education, and my knowledge of sex was limited to "It is a sin." Despite blushing profusely and begging them to stop, I completed the crash course, and we all laughed.

On the wedding day, my groom, dressed in a brocade coat, arrived in a flower-decked Mercedes — a modern-day maharaja. Together, we circled the holy fire seven times (a tradition called Saat Pheras); then, under a canopy of frangipanis and orchids, we were wedded for seven lifetimes. The Pheras are the most important part of the wedding ceremony. In Hinduism, the fire is considered the sustainer of life, and it is only after the Saat Pheras are completed that a couple is declared man and wife. Each Phera is taken to invoke the blessings of specific gods and goddesses, who then grant the seven blessings: financial stability, health, faith, trust and love, progeny, togetherness, and loyalty and unity forever.

On my wedding night, a sense of calm finally washed over me, as I made my leap from bride to wife (armed with the Kama Sutra, which my cousins had downloaded onto my PDA as a gift).

After our 10-day honeymoon, we were ceremoniously dispatched to Manhattan. My life was packed into six bursting suitcases. When my husband had described our apartment, I'd pictured a life-size dollhouse with separate dining and living rooms, bedrooms, balconies — a tall building with a green garden. Instead, my new home turned out to be smaller than my bedroom in India. The trade-off: From the 40th floor the view was unsurpassable. My husband's American friends called, asking about the wedding and curious to see if I had a nose ring. I was just as eager to meet them.

The next day, my banker husband went to work, and I was home alone for the first time. I eyed his walk-in closet, courageously moving his suits into a smaller armoire. Judging from what remained, I had married an avid golfer, skier, and board-game player. That evening, he moved his clothes back into the walk-in, offering to share it. Still, it seemed I had too many things for the space. My neighbor suggested unplugging the refrigerator to maximize storage (a trick she had used). It seemed extreme, but by the second week, I was considering it. After all, I discovered that New York delivers coffee and anything else, even in a blizzard.

While I craved privacy in India, the lack of neighbors and family dropping in left a shocking void every day as I ate breakfast and lunch alone. My husband worked late most evenings, and I sat in front of the TV, unable to call home because it would be 2 a.m. there.

Being away from India gave us the chance to get to know each other. The first few weekends we spent like tourists — a trip around Manhattan on the Circle Line, a romantic view from the top of the Empire State Building. My husband bought me fashionable, sometimes sexy clothes, and we tested each others' boundaries. We talked incessantly about our childhoods, schools, friends, mistakes, hopes, dreams, and desires. It was just like dating, only we were already married.

After a few weeks, I learned that I'd married a "jetrosexual." He had an exhausting travel schedule (four cities in four days). I joined the ranks of corporate wives who saw every show, opera, and ballet in town, just to fill the hours.

To make friends, I joined a gym, went to the library, and took Italian classes. I discovered that having an arranged marriage was a great icebreaker, and my social circle mushroomed each time I retold my story.

As peers in India opted for motherhood and worked on post-baby waistlines, I took Spinning and pole dancing at the gym to work off exotic dinners of sweetbreads, foie gras, chocolate mousse. After reading about America's obsession with Venti decaf skim mochas, I went to try one — but came back instead with a spiced chai latte. Amazingly, Starbucks was providing my childhood drink on every corner.

Marriage, I soon learned, wasn't easy — especially to a modern man. My husband had acquired a mistress, and her name was BlackBerry. She had the power to stop discussions midsentence, her red signal lighting up his face in the way I only dreamed of doing.

With his work schedule and my burgeoning social calendar, our love story unfolded on fluorescent Post-its stuck to the fridge: "Water plants." "Out of toothpaste." "Make baby tonight." Nothing, it seemed, was left to chance.

Slowly, I was getting to know my husband, even starting to fall in love with him. Though we were from the same ethnic background and had a similar upbringing, he had spent his impressionable years in America. He liked baseball, oatmeal, tofu, and bran muffins. I followed cricket and thought of oats and bran as the stuff we fed horses. I had no idea how to do laundry in machines. On my first attempt, I shrank his favorite Burberry sweater. Luckily, he didn't expect me to conform to the traditional roles within a marriage. Even so, he had always wanted an arranged marriage because he felt it would be easier for him to share a life with someone who understood his upbringing and culture.

But I could not escape tradition entirely. In a matter of months, our home became an extension of the Air India terminal, as uncles, sisters, brothers, and distant cousins settled in on the pull-out couch. (I'd forgotten that an Indian woman marries a family, not just a man.) For three months, I endured gigantic suitcases in the middle of the living room, curry wafting into the hallway, and prayer bells at 6 a.m. sharp. I envied my friend Anna, whose Swedish parents stayed in a hotel, treated her to brunch at Serafina, and busied themselves at Bloomie's.


To escape the houseguests, I found a job as a financial consultant. The New York Times in one hand, coffee in the other, I realized that my saris of bright pink, violet, and salmon were not exactly subway wear. Quickly, I succumbed to Levi's and Ralph Lauren.

My officemates were intrigued when they heard about my arranged marriage. "It's nice to have a spiritual and family connection with your husband, rather than one that begins in a bar and ends with sex," sighed leggy Victoria from Brooklyn, who frequented eHarmony and match.com.

That's when I started to realize that I just might have the best of both worlds. I marinated my Indian marriage in the flavors of Manhattan. I kept the sari and bought the Jimmy Choos. I made fabulous curries, seasoned with spices from Dean & Deluca. And after months of enjoying decidedly non-Indian experiences of seders, Saks, and sake, I felt confident enough to direct Indian guests to a hotel, occasionally throwing in a MetroCard.

As Indian women gain financial independence, it is inevitable that we will see fewer arranged marriages — and maybe that's too bad. I firmly believe that our marriage works because it is blessed and supported by our families. The strength we get from their advice (solicited and unsolicited) helps us overcome difficult times. Had I found my own mate, I'm sure my parents would have come around, but I'd have to live knowing that they wouldn't be truly emotionally invested in the success of the marriage.

I've come to believe it's not so much how you get hitched but what you do with your relationship that matters. Although my husband doesn't always agree with his opinionated and selectively liberated wife, he openly expresses his love. Back home, couples don't even hold hands on the street. Here, well, couples do a lot more than that. India may have found me a husband, but America showed me how much fun it is to be his wife. Power to my parents for arranging this union.


http://lifestyle.msn.com/mindbodyandsoul/womenintheworld/articlemc.aspx?cp -documentid=5672586&page=5

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sinderlou
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posted November 11, 2007 10:15 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for sinderlou     Edit/Delete Message
That was an awesome read!

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Bluemoon
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posted November 11, 2007 01:39 PM     Click Here to See the Profile for Bluemoon     Edit/Delete Message
Indeed. I really learned something. Thanks for sharing that with us. Dulce

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taurustar27
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posted November 12, 2007 01:13 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for taurustar27     Edit/Delete Message
omg, Dulce... I was reading this article earlier today!

The situation with my boyfriend and I actually ties into the thread (well, the part about arranged marriages) a little bit...

I am an American (half Persian), and he is a Pakistani who has been studying in the U.S. for several years. He and I have been in a relationship for three and a half years... we have always thought that we would get married, BUT... His parents want him to return home and marry his cousin in an arranged marriage... He was actually engaged to her (to make his parents happy) after meeting her but had not really talked to her. After he met me and our love grew, he told his parents that he did not want to remain engaged to her, and that he might marry a girl in the U.S. one day. I didn't find out that the person he was engaged to was his cousin... until a few months ago... it disturbed me that he didn't tell me this key piece of information... yet he said that he didn't tell because I had hope that his parents would accept me. I now believe his parents will not accept me... so I must make a decision... stay with him and he lose his parents... or let him go so that he can remain with his parents back home.

I hope I haven't strayed away too much from the general conversation... but an arranged marriage may be an event that changes my life forever, yet that arranged marriage will be for another person... I don't know what the future holds... but I know that I will make the right decision when the time comes...

I think there are both good and bad aspects of an arranged marriage... it just depends on the people in particular circumstances...

cancer... I hope you find happiness with a wonderful girl

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Dulce Luna
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posted November 12, 2007 06:53 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for Dulce Luna     Edit/Delete Message
Wow Taurustar....I hope things turn out for the best!


The article just goes to show you that marraige is a freaking gamble no matter what way you decide to get married. Both ways can either sink or swim given the variables. Like for instance, this case probably worked beautifully because both people were consenting. When there's pressure on either or both sides, its definitely not a good thing (see: my parents).

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yourfriendinspirit
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posted November 14, 2007 08:26 PM     Click Here to See the Profile for yourfriendinspirit     Edit/Delete Message
Ok, it's been another month...

How's the search going cancerrg ???

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cancerrg
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posted November 28, 2007 11:47 AM     Click Here to See the Profile for cancerrg     Edit/Delete Message
the search has stopped ! guess why .....


oh that was an interesting read , i hope it gives you a fair idea about the fairness of arranged marriage

and finally Taru , its not for you to decide but the man in question should decide ! that what i feel !

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Mirandee
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posted November 28, 2007 12:19 PM     Click Here to See the Profile for Mirandee     Edit/Delete Message
What stopped your search, cancerrg? Did you make your choice? Whatever the reason I hope it makes you very happy.

tarurustar, That's a sad situation and a very loving gesture on your part but, although it is really none of my business, I tend to agree with cancerrg - the decision is his to make as to what he wants and thinks best for his life.

Wishing you all the best in this situation.

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