Wings to Fly (Photo: Internet)

I often used to wonder why most Indian women get married so early -- the average age being 23-24 years old. I would always ask myself: Isn’t being “free” (from responsibilities and a lifetime commitment) a better life, at least when you are that young?

At 28, after being away from home on my own for the first time ever and having tasted real freedom, I found the answer! Not only that, I, who was marriage phobic, and I, who wanted to maintain my non-married status for as long as I could, wanted to be “tied down.” Let me explain if it isn’t making any sense…

Compared to my Western girl friends, most of whom got their wings to fly when they were teenagers, I decided to get out of my nest some two years back to pursue my Masters degree. During my stay in London away from parents, I started questioning my bringing up as I learnt more about myself and what it meant to be FREE. I had never known the other way so I never felt odd being questioned for little things like where I was, with whom and what for.

My Indian parents are still the most liberal in the family, if you asked me, but they are overly protective and concerned, especially my dad. The truth is this desire to protect us, even when borne out of genuine concern, is a cage. It limits our choices and opportunities and prevents us from discovering our worth and strengths.

I am getting married late this year and my man is just the sort of guy I wanted for myself – someone who gives me my flying space. I hope my 24-year old cousin, who is tying the knot in two weeks, gets the same from her husband-to-be.

I caught her online last week and asked if she was all perked up for her big day. She said she was nervous as her “days of independence are coming to an end.”

I hope she’s proved wrong and gets to fly high to explore the unknown just like I did in London and would after marriage.

One World

I am an international student in the UK, which would explain why I carry a HSBC “international” student debit card. I was naïve to think that my card would work at the Tokyo Narita airport when I confidently popped it out of my wallet to pay for the little souvenirs I picked up. Beep,beep beep -- the card didn’t work. After all my card wasn’t as international as I thought it to be, even though I am levied a 5 pound fee every month as opposed to a local student. WHY? I went in to ask a HSBC staff.

“It is an international student card, not an international card, you see,” the woman said with her eyelashes flattering. She probably attends dozens or more frustrated customers like myself everyday and still manages to look smiley and pretty.

“I clearly see that,” I told her, still unsatisfied with her explanation.

Foreigners are often slapped with such extra charges in the name of "internationalism." Tourists in my country pay double or three times more the price I pay for entry tickets to various places. Is it justifiable, I questioned myself? The whole episode made me think why aren’t we all embraced with equality?

Boundaries create such differences. They smell of separateness, reminding one of the miles away from home. I want a world where no one has to ever fear exclusion, a world where all gaps are stitched and we are citizens of the world. I am in for that sort of a world. Once those inequalities are fixed, this world is bound to be a better place, I promise.