I don't.

When you are a girl, an Indian, of a certain age and not yet committed, you become sort of an eyesore for the grown-ups in your family. They start badgering you about why you can’t possibly seem to like any guy, why you haven’t still matured (to be read as why aren’t u interested in housekeeping, why aren’t you coy, why can’t you be respectful towards men, etc.), and stuff like that, you get the idea... Dwelling too much on these questions can lead you to further thoughts like ‘Am I emotionally handicapped?’ and ‘Maybe I am destined to marry Johnny Depp after his next break up’ , obviously after bypassing, mostly with a very safe distance, the inevitable ‘Am I a lesbian?’ But these are minor blips on my radar, compared to what I have started to hate the most in this whole process... That of the foreign-settled guy. There simply are too many of them out there on the matrimonial lists. And yeah, also on Facebook, in my friends list. Maybe they were splendid blokes while they were still playing gully cricket and eating parottas off a road-side stall, but there is something in the foreign air that creeps up their nose while probably still over the Indian Ocean. And it makes them into these ‘dudes’ whose sole aim is to get on top of either the Empire State Building or Megan Fox (even the one at Madame Tussauds will do), reaching it via the honourable routes of doing an MS/MBA or getting a H1B through TCS/CTS/Wipro or their ilk. Among those who do their masters, only a few are the genuinely interested ones, much like the difference between getting a BE from IITM and from Mundakaneeswari Amman College of Technology. The rest get to troop around the country with fellow desis and then land a job whose salary can be multiplied by numbers over 50 to be displayed proudly next to their name. Maybe I am a nitpicking shrew, but I can’t help but be concerned with the language they speak and write. The Queen’s English has now become the Queer English with the subject and the predicate hanging themselves with the question mark. And now with our IT companies’ new conscription policies, life has never been easier for the wreckage to swim with the tide. So the easy way out for women like me who have to sift through the sheer numbers of men who now earn more than a lakh a month and want a ‘good, educated girl with traditional family values and likes me mostly’, is to get that whiff of foreign air from the next contingent of passengers at the international terminal. Maybe then I will want to marry Megan Fox.