Letter From My Uncle

In my good old days (readers, remember I am 63 now), we were not the slaves of WhatsApp, Email, Facebook, Twitter and all the other numerous applications of convenience. I have no grudge against these modes of superfast communication for I am an avid user myself, but since we are talking about 1981-82, I have teleported myself to that era.

I married my beloved in the year 1982, but not before a most challenging courtship lasting almost four years! This story, however, is not about my courtship. My relationship with my wife started with friendship and turned in love which further transformed into a desire to make it permanent. Nothing wrong with this, you will say. There was, however, a minor glitch. My beloved was a Punjabi and me a Tamilian brahmin, Iyengar to be precise. Old story, you will say. Yes, all of you have seen ‘Ek Dooje Ke Liye’ and ‘Two States’.

It was not simple for me to wake up one day and tell my loving parents that I wanted to marry a Punjabi girl. My parents, I must say, had no illusions about me; nor expectations from me. They had never imposed anything on me. But marriage is an important event, not only for me but also for the family (the clan). I, therefore, was not quite sure how my parents would react. Afraid of a confrontation with my parents, I decided to break the news through a letter to my Mother. I guess I had more confidence in her than my Father! I wrote a brief note informing my choice and desire and quietly placed it beneath a vessel that she very often used in the kitchen. This was to ensure that she found the note.

When I returned from work in the evening, there was a strange silence in the house. My brother and sister looked normal and chirpy, but my parents looked rather grim and worried. At the first opportune moment, we had our serious discussion. The whys, when and why not were navigated with firmness on my part which I admired. Emotions flared, but I would not waver. My father, in particular, had two very basic issues with my beloved. One: She was a Punjabi and Punjabi’s eat meat. Two: What would other relatives say? 

Issue number one was resolved quickly as my love was a vegetarian (she ate only eggs). Issue number two was tricky and I asked my parents how they propose to deal with this. The problem was not a major one for me, but apparently, my parents valued the larger family and relationships and were afraid that our family may suffer if I went ahead to marry a Punjabi. Though it made no sense to me, I respected their concerns and offered to travel to Hyderabad where my uncles lived and seek their blessings and permission. My father liked my idea and suggested that instead of going over to Hyderabad, I should write a detailed letter to my eldest uncle as he was the head of the clan.

It was against this background that I wrote a lengthy letter to my uncle explaining my position. I made it sufficiently clear that I did not mean to discredit the clan or show disrespect to traditions and that I valued my elders more than anything. I then posted the letter and waited for a reply.

The reply from my uncle came a couple of weeks later. It is this letter from him that I still value and cherish more than any other communication I have ever received or sent. In his firm and clear handwriting, he said that I was an adult now and had the right to make decisions on my life. The elders were there to advise and guide, not to object and protest. He congratulated me and said that he was confident that I would make the right choice and confirmed that the entire family would be there when the wedding happened to bless me and my wife.

Well, that is what happened before my marriage and my uncle’s letter, I still preserve as a valuable treasure.