Birds of a Feather

Issue 63 December 2009

Walking to the station this morning, I recalled a Greek mythology lesson I had in high school. The great Socrates once professed, “My advice to you is to get married. If you find a good wife, you’ll be happy; if not, you’ll become a philosopher.”

Socrates, unlike the rest of us, had the best of both worlds, however. Not only was he happily married with three sons, but he had successfully acquired the reputation of a great philosopher during his lifetime.  I, on the other hand, have spent this past year in and out of floral-patterned drawing rooms of various aunties in my mission to find a bride and give my mother a grandchild before she “leaves this earth with a gaping hole” in her “desire to give the kind of love only possible for a grandchild.” That’s not dramatic at all, I tell her, and I should most definitely marry any girl who is remotely available to produce offspring that my mother can then spoil and cherish. “Not unrealistic at all, mother,” I say.

Ultimately, my mother’s burning desire to be a grandmother is not the only reason I embarked on a mission to find a bride. The older I got, the more tiresome I grew of ‘laddish’ company – hours spent discussing the deep and meaningful aspects of life, like how many ounces your mobile phone weighs was starting to evoke a numbness in my being. I do, of course, cherish the time spent with my friends and their companionship is irreplaceable but ultimately, I felt like I needed something more – a greater responsibility and the opportunity to provide security and love.

Arriving at the station, I realise that perhaps I have been trying too hard. Why not just leave it up to fate? But if fate is my conclusion on this matter, then I’ve just spent a year of my life getting high blood pressure for nothing. But I guess everything is an experience and being berated over my supposed ‘unreal doctor degree’ and my ‘unmanliness’, paired with my ‘inability to communicate’ has most definitely taken me through a journey of discovery.