Relationships were yet another thing that made Omkar resent his culture. He found himself straddling the divide between two cultures that couldn’t be more different if they tried. In American culture, dating could be casual. Parents let their children date young and didn’t seem to intervene when they did. In Indian culture, children were not allowed to date. Most Indian kids growing up in America were simply sent off to college socially stunted. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, therefore, that many of them failed to meet someone to marry on campus. Yet it always did seem to come as a surprise. When their son or daughter would turn 26 or 27, parents would panic and take matters into their own hands. There was nothing casual in Indian culture about forming a relationship with the opposite sex. The entire thing was a carefully orchestrated arrangement, which for the most part was conducted by parents. And marriage was considered to be the most important part of a person’s life.

Omkar’s parents had met on their wedding day. Their parents had selected them as a match for each other with the idea that it would be the best thing for both of them. Like the vast majority of marriages in India, theirs was an arranged marriage. It had been several days of pre- and post-wedding ceremonies and parties. Now they fully believed that the blessings they had sought from God when they bowed before the holy script had been granted. Theirs was a happy marriage. Time had seen them grow to love one another.

It was a fact that Jarminder reminded Omkar of daily. “Our marriages are much more successful than those of the Westerners, Omkar,” she would say. “Parents have lived longer, we know how the world really works. So we will make a better decision.”

It always made Omkar queasy when she said it. Not because he disagreed with her entirely. In fact, Omkar was not against the idea of having a wife chosen for him, provided that he could meet her enough times beforehand to decide if he liked her or not. What scared Omkar was that he had liked girls before, none of whom met the criteria his parents had so clearly set out. He lived in desperate fear that one day he might fall in love with a woman to whom they would not consent … To find himself caught between the sense of duty he felt toward his parents’ happiness as well as the approval he so needed from them, and a woman his heart could not give up for either of those things.