It’s a nice journey breaking the shackles, South Asians who have been raised in a certain way, and if they feel they have the privilege, they must exercise the courage.

While you are at it, if you’re Indian, read up on The Special Marriage Act, 1954: No conversions. https://twitter.com/DrVW30/status/1235574538420682752

Pardon me if it’s too basic for some, but I need to spell it out.

Fundamentally it starts with the good old falling in love, transcending into intent, translating into an assessment of fear & privilege of exercising courage, then the inevitable endurance of harassment.

Religious conversion makes it messy. I wouldn’t deny the agency of people who do want to embrace conversion, because sometimes the cultural pressure breaks people & the desire to be with each other overpowers everything else. As partners, empathy for each other’s choices is key.

A good start if both the lovers believe they have enough independence/courage/finances/privilege to not convert & face the brunt of all that comes with an interfaith South Asian marriage. It’s ugly, there’s violence, there’s the reality of losing family etc. Assessment is key.

This is going to be a looooong thread.

Ok, so all that being said, I am not getting into the potentially messy conversion based marriage, because I have no personal experience in it, but my sympathies are with people who do decide to convert. That should be a story in itself.

Let’s get to the legal process.

Once you decide to get married, against all odds and if you do not wish to convert, The Special Marriage Act, 1954 is a blessing (and has the potential to be a curse) - read up the legalese, but read this for my take:

You have to visit the local registrar office & file an application. If you are unlucky, you will find a dickhead to deal with, who will make you feel miserable that you are making a life choice of your own. Anyway, sign that fucking application form & get the fuck out of there.

Now the abuse part. The registrar office will put up your pictures and your home address on a public notice board for 30 FUCKING DAYS. The intent is for people to object to (on legit grounds & not bigotry) this is literally an anxiety-inducing, violence-inviting activity.

Now if you have problematic officer at the registrar office, who wants to be a fucking Nazi, be rest assured that your family people have been informed, with whom you were discreet. Be rest assured you will start getting threatening calls, be rest assured you’re living in fear.

Anyway. Let’s discuss the happy path. Let’s assume the officer wasn’t a dickhead Nazi. Let’s assume no one noticed the public notice board on which your fucking pictures & your fucking home addresses were put up. 30 day period elapsed. Now you have EXACTLY 60 days to get married.

If you don’t get married in those 60 days, u have the start the 30 day harassment-inviting notice all over again. In these toxic times, it gives me jitters to imagine the level of abuse & violence this can potentially invite.

The SMA-1954 is great, the checks & balances are not.

The legal advice given is to get married as soon as the 30 day period elapses. Some decide to do it, some decide to navigate/negotiate with the toxic family and use the 60 days to find a happy path. We decided to negotiate.

The mother had given a blind approval, and was worried about my life on a daily basis. Every morning there was a subtle checkpoint to make sure I was alive. The other side was livid that a Musalman was the chosen man. Fake police officers would call & threaten.

So the day comes when I get invited to meet with a dozen odd unkils.

- you travel a lot, what if you die someday?
- you’re a Muslim, what if you marry another woman?
- Can you convert to Hinduism & show us that you can be a devout Hindu for 2 years?

...and more intimidating Qs

She puts her foot down.

“There is no question of conversion, no one is getting converted, neither me nor him”

This was the 59th day, after the 30 days of uncertainty/trauma had elapsed. The 60th day drama was about to unfold.

Before I uncover & unfold the 60th day, let’s look at some housekeeping items. You need 3 witnesses to sign the marriage document.

- the mother gets flown in to Bangalore at the shortest of notices
- 2 friends happily volunteer

Uff, that was easy. Thank you allies.

What could go wrong on the 60th day?

A strike!

Damn if we miss this day, we need to go through the 30 day notice ordeal all over again. What the fuck.

Wait, hold on, the registrar’s office is not shut. Let’s find a way to get there. Boom! 5 people, the couple & 3 witnesses.

Ok, so one more dickhead to deal with, after having gone through the whole legal rigmarole.

In our minds: ((Fuck the state, fuck the government))

The officer unkil gave us a tough time; frivolous questions, evasive tactics. ASSHOLE

We argue, we fight, FIVE PEOPLE FINALLY SIGN.

Imagine a society that creates the idea & the institution of marriage, the state, government, parents, relatives come together in making basic life choices of two adults an absolute shithole.

THAT.

If you have the privilege & the resources, start cancelling all toxic people.

The “recommendation” from the lawyer was to get married (post the 30 day trauma) and live in our own homes, try to convince parents and if & when shit hits the fan, elope as a married couple.

We had other ideas. We said fuck that shit.

We arrive at her mother’s place to break the news. Apparently they knew because she had taken all her papers & the saree in the morning.

A very dramatic scene. Her toxic brother had kept all her belongings outside.

He took her aside and told her she is never welcome home again.

YOU ARE NOT WELCOME IN THIS FAMILY ANYMORE. YOU ARE DEAD TO US.

BUT IF YOU EVER DECIDE TO DIVORCE HIM, YOU ARE WELCOME BACK.

We come back to my one room (SINGLE ROOM) apartment where my mother slept.

We went & slept in open air, along with mosquitoes on the terrrace