A sachet of Henna costs a meagre rupees 20, but it mounts to lakhs for a bride’s father. He either inundates himself in hefty debts or strangulates the aspirations, longings and yearnings of his daughter. We have set insurmountable standards for our neighbours to marry off their daughters. Consequently, thousands of marriageable daughters are cursing their fates for being begotten to poor and economically weaker parents. Lavish and extravagant marriages are hindering numerous daughters to dye their hands scarlet-red with Henna. These daughters will catch us by our collars on the day of judgement for being cruel, callous and insensitive. Wealthy are gloating over the misfortune of poor. Pungently sad state of affairs !
A barrage of questions strikes our conscience vehemently and sends shivers down our spine – What made the bridal Henna hues so exorbitant and expensive in our society? Why are thousands of daughters ineligible for the connubial knot ? What hinders fathers of the girls’ to solemnize their marriages? Such questions and queries haunt, spook and unnerve soulful people through and through, but, it hardly makes any difference to most of us. We have probably stooped too low to Sumum, Bukmun and Umyun ( Deaf, Dumb and Blind ).
We have lost our humane essence of compassion and empathy to vices like lust, vanity and obsession of wealth. We are inordinately rapacious and hungry for material comforts. The hackneyed pursuit of pleasures has activated our demoniac traits, and the animal in man has grown corpulent. We have mangled our own social and moral fabric to dastardly innovations. We have consciously and unconsciously deprived poor girls of their basic rights.
Nuptial knots have become too difficult to be tied. Accordingly, incidents of fornication and debauchery are growing rapidly. Immodesty and indecency is rendering us devoid of ethics and morals. Binti-Hawa is entangled in the quagmire of uncertainty… But, aliens are not to be blamed for the mess. We need to rinse our own conscience to find the answer. We have butchered our glorious values with the fiendish daggers of social heresy and innovations. Castles of culture that take away our human essence, must be demolished and dismantled.
Our benchmarks and criteria for a perfect match are too harrowing. Consequently, the number of unmarried youth swells up steeply. Jammu and Kashmir tops the entire country in the number of never married youth in the age group of 15 to 29. Thousands of unmarried girls have crossed their prime. There are plethora of reasons behind the enigma. Both boys and girls have set cosmic standards for their partners-to-be in life. Lo and behold! Girls and their parents are looking for boys with university degrees, government jobs, big business ventures and posh residential houses. Car and bike entices and pleases girls separately. Tall, dark and handsome is yet another standard boys must live up to. I mean, every girl seeks Shahrukh Khan as husband. Boys too have set preposterous standards for a conjugal knot. Most of the urban boys and their families prefer girls with government jobs. They are actually looking for someone who could fetch money and material in dowry. Boys want an ATM machine as betterhalf, and their families aspire for an obedient maid.
Lavish wazwan is another possible hurdle that delays marriages of our sisters and daughters. Painting culture in extravagance is a brazen depravity. Culture and heritage is never synonymous to rigid and execrable traditions and customs. Sumptuous wazwan with more than thirty dishes is a slap to us. Very recently, pounded meat dishes stormed internet and social networking sites when a Kashmir chef had designed the chopped meat into drone-like shapes. Mammoth size Gushtabas laden with coins of different denominations has made mockery of our civilizational heritage. Multi-chambered dryfruit boxes filled with cashew-nuts, pistachios, raisins, almonds, sweets, juice cans is something bizarre to be seen in our marriage functions. Even many donkeys go for boxes with papier mache to serve the dryfruits to invitees. Is it really a part of Wazwan? No, never.
Our wazwan Trami looks like a hillock accumulated with mutton and chicken dishes of varied flavours. Size of Kabab has been enlarged enough to whip the necks of low-paid workers who wish to see their daughters’ in bridal attires. Wazwan is a legacy but with seven to ten cuisines. We have not added unnecessary dishes to it, but pain, trauma, stress and misery to our own people who can’t afford all the pomp and show. Is wazwan really a symbol of our cultural legacy or a nightmare for our lower middle-class brethren? We all shall be held accountable before God and man for such ostensibly opulent innovations to our customs and traditions. Virtuous people make things easy for others while as wicked sow thorns and prickles to let them bleed.
Henna, bridal attire, lament of separation from parents is the dream of every girl. Bridal tears are pearls of blended ecstasy and sorrow which every daughter yearns to trickle down her face. But, we have snatched this right from thousands of them. Our daughters and sisters have every right to blame us for being cold-blooded and devoid of pity. Minarets of customs are too high for poor girls to climb upon. An order of yesteryears has changed into disarray. With everything passing day, the number of unmarried girls is soaring ghastly. A further surge in it will be-get new challenges for us. Our moral fabric is at stake. Familial disputes and disintegration is on cards. A social mayhem is apparently to invade us. Yet, we don’t pay any heed to the burning issue. We can’t escape alone unaffected. A plausible social anarchy in the making is about to devour us all. Social deconstruction has become inevitable for our social justice and peaceful coexistence.
Author is a Teacher and a Regular Columnist. He can be reached at mushtaqhurra143@gmail.com
