For the uninformed,

I am manglik.

Now let me throw some light on the incredulous sham our arranged marriages are,

according to me.

Being categorised as one isn’t a matter of privilege by the long yardstick on which we measure everything about a suitor’s likeability

than the suitor himself:



Number of siblings



Government Job

Number of married siblings and what their spouses do

Social standing

Everything except what the eligible bachelor might be looking for, in terms of compatibility.

Heck we even prepare matrimonial curriculam vitae

complete with photographs.


its burdensome to be one.

Not for me at least: but for the parents.

For how will they find good grooms in the market now?

will have to do with defective pieces.

Here comes the disclaimer:

A manglik woman, by the grace of the planets that maketh her so,

must not marry a non manglik lest he might die.

nothing incredulous about that, you say?

And so the parents must fret and bother untill all the hair on their head turns grey,

and they can hold themselves and say

What can I do?

Ill gotten luck would have my daughter be one of the undesirables.

So she must marry whatever comes her way.

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