Why there's no place for 'Sati Savitris' in the marriage market

She was young. She was beautiful. She was intelligent, successful. And she was man-less. Why? Where are all the men who should be queuing up to whisk her off? Well, it seems smart men today are not into damsels who reek of the Good Girl perfume.

That she was meant for the best, Aparna Nambiar* had no doubt. Her parents had said so. And so had her teachers and others who knew her — that, by the way, is over half the 40,000 inhabitants of Ottapalam,  Kerala, where she hails from. She attended the best convent school in this small town by the banks of the Nila river.

Like other privileged girls around her, besides scoring straight As, she learnt Carnatic vocals and Bharathanatyam  — “they add to a girl’s charms,” she was told. After her graduation in economics with honours, she moved to Delhi for further studies. And that’s when the blindfold came off.

“I focused on studies, completed post-graduation, and M.Phil. My parents started pressing for marriage. With the kind of exposure city life gave me, arranged marriage was out. By now I had a clear idea about the kind of man I wanted to marry. I was always running into men like that — intelligent, witty and smart. And I knew somewhere among them was my man and he would find me soon.”

Strangely, he didn’t. Why, when she was the perfect missus material that movies and ads advertised — beautiful and virtuous — she wondered. It took her a few years to figure this out: that naivete no longer holds any charm for the cool dude.

“We were conditioned back home to think that a goody-goody wife is what men want. That idea was drilled into our heads. Gradually, we were moulded into the puritan type, which is not what the men we find desirable want for wives,” she says.

So, has virtue totally gone out of fashion in the marriage market?

“Really, Sati Savitri is so yesterday. We would, of course, like a faithful, beautiful wife. But street-smartness is the most important criterion,” says Anoop Menon, 32-year-old civil engineer, quite prime for the marriage market. His choice is driven by practical purposes, he says. A snowy degree, idli-making skills, an ability to sing Carnatic keerthanams at short notice are all romantic to him, but “won’t help me keep pace with life in the city”.

Mohammed Chanasmawala, a financial consultant who recently married his colleague, agrees. “If I had listened to my mother and settled for a girl who can cook, clean and sing, I’d be bored in no time. My wife had to fit in my circle of friends.”

A grumpy erstwhile Savitri in fact finds it “practically hazardous” that girls growing up in villages are still fed the misconception that bholi bhali is what’s in demand in the marriage market.

‘Virtue’ has its own merits
Bangalore-based Lisa Jacob, a leading counsellor, has a different take on it though, challenging the stereotype of what’s ‘cool’. “Today not many men really know who they are (even if they think they know exactly what they want). Only if they know themselves will they know what to look for in a spouse.” Look at the increasing number of divorces, isn’t that proof enough, she asks.

Point taken, but what should be Savitri’s plan of action? Should she shed the virtue garb in a slow cardio striptease? No way, says Gayatri Viswanathan emphatically. She’s been counselling many young couples and feels that eventually people will come around to valuing at least some of the traditional virtues. “Today’s lifestyle does make a strong pitch for practicality. But the men who overlook virtue in their life partner will face problems later.”

Meanwhile, oblivious to the changing tastes of marriageable men in small towns, Sati Savitris continue to disembark by the bus-load. They land in cities, hoping to be swept off their feet, little knowing that the Prince Charming finds them plain charm-less.
Taking that into account, we think, it would be wise to heed this warning: If a Muthuswami Dikshitar kriti is tickling your vocal chords, please bite your tongue and smother it immediately.     

Names changed on request.