”What Advice Would You Give Your 20-Year-Old Self?” My son Saqib asked me.
”Trust Your Instincts!”
That is my advice to my 20-year-old self, or any 20-year-old for that matter.
Why do I say that? Why not some sage words like: resist temptation, don’t yield to peer pressure, sign up for the Peace Corps, seek a mentor, master a second language, plant trees, sing your heart out. . .
These are not bad advisements.
Anyhow, why should a 20-year-old trust one’s instincts; instincts that have no bearing on rationale, logic, or good sense?
Because 50 years ago, I trusted my instincts and look where it landed me: In a happy marriage.
Those of you who know me, know that my marriage was arranged. What most of you don’t know is that I cast the tie-breaking-vote that sealed the deal. I had never met my future husband, and, are you ready for this: neither had my parents. It was my grandparents who knew him and worked at convincing my parents to accept the marriage proposal. Then extended family members started coming out of the wood-works saying “We know him. We know him. Say Yes.”
In Pakistan, an arranged marriage is everyone’s business. When my potential-future-mother-in-law proposed, the entire family, as in parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, siblings, close friends, all gathered to interview her. When she left, the clan convened for the likes of a round-table conference. The agenda: ‘To accept, or not accept the marriage proposal.’ Pros and cons were weighed. Pluses, minuses, TBDs, NAs were assigned to each criterion.
He is a doctor: Plus.
We have not seen him: Minus
What if he drinks alcohol?: NA
Does he smoke? NA
Is he tall enough for her? (I was tall by Pakistani standards): TBD
And where was I in all these deliberations? Right there, listening, but also listening to my inner voice. Khalid’s proposal felt right.
How irrational is that! I just had the feeling that this young man, with curly dark hair, long sideburns, gleaming white teeth, and eyes that smiled back at you in the 8x10 black and white photograph, was right for me. But I said nothing. I had not learned to trust my instincts.
A few weeks later, auntie Hameeda, my potential-future-mother-in-law, made another ten-hour train ride from Multan to our home in Rawalpindi, pressing my parents with her silent presence. The House stood divided. Here is how the votes lined up:
The entire extended family: Yeahs.
Mummy and Daddy: Undecided. Undecided, but holding veto power.
That left me.
Daddy spoke to me in private.
“I think Apa Hameeda is here because she expects an answer. What should we tell them?” he asked.
“It’s OK with me. You can say yes,” I said with confidence.
“Are you sure?” Daddy was gentle and direct.
“I am.”
I was.
Perhaps I was being irrational, but I was finally trusting my instincts. This is the young man I wanted to marry.
Think of it:
I didn’t know his habits.
I didn’t know what his voice was like.
I didn’t know if he had a sense humor.
I didn’t know his politics.
Was he religious? Too religious? Not religious enough?
Where did he stand on women’s rights? Would he be a controlling husband or give me a free rein?
Was he liberal? Conservative?
A careful driver? Patient? Impatient?
Quiet or chatty?
A nerdy gold medalist or a charmer? (He was awarded a gold medal for standing first in medical school).
I didn’t know how he thought, how he felt; how he spoke. Nothing.
Yet, I took the leap, making the most important decision of my life with my eyes wide shut, and heart wide open, ready to give him all my love, by simply trusting my instincts.
I had spoken. So it was said, and so it was done.
What if I had relied on reason and said ‘No.’ Or ‘I am not sure.’
OMG!
What if I had married who knows whom?
I won’t even go there.
That was 50 years ago. Every morning, I thank God for another day with Khalid. This January he celebrated his 76th birthday. So did I, big time. And boy! Am I thanking my lucky stars for that moment when this once-20-year-old young lady trusted her instincts and said “Yes.”
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