Chandrashnata Das – Part 1

My marriage was a scam. Almost everyone lives a dream of marriage that would happen once in a lifetime. I too had dreams only to bite the dust.

I met my ex-husband through a mutual friend in 2020. At that time, my family and I were actively looking for a groom, and my friend suggested that I should meet him. Apparently, I later learned that we had met earlier at a party, and since then, he had followed me on Instagram.

I used to create content about my travels, and he was also a traveller. During the lockdown, I contacted him for travel tips on Arunachal Pradesh, which became our ice-breaker. He lived in Duliajan, a town near the state, and he insisted that we meet if I ever made travel plans.

Later, in November 2020, I visited Arunachal Pradesh with my mother, intending to spend some quality time with her. Even though he insisted, I chose not to meet him. When the meeting didn’t happen, he suggested that we meet when he visited Guwahati for a business trip.

He had requested to meet me numerous times, and since he was known to my friend, I thought it would be polite to accept his request at least once. After all, what could go wrong with one casual meeting?

We finally met at a restaurant near my home. He picked me up after taking permission from my mother, which I found to be a thoughtful gesture. During our first meeting, we discussed a few topics. He was probably aware that my family was looking for a suitable groom.

At some point, he spoke about his business, which he presented as a Mumbai-based venture that was supposedly expanding to the Northeast region. It was related to digital services, a field I had no clue about. When I asked for more details, he gave vague responses that only left me more confused. I hesitated to ask further questions, fearing I might make a fool of myself.

He didn’t mention the company’s name during our first meeting but revealed it a few days later—it was something called “P***.” Apart from that, he claimed he was about to start a manufacturing plant for riding gear, but the project had been postponed due to COVID.

He was a smooth talker, and I was almost convinced by him. On the day we met, he brought me a bottle of wine and some tea leaves for my mother. After that, he returned to Duliajan but came back a month later, in January 2021.

During our second meeting, he brought his laptop. That time, he also met my elder brother and tried to showcase his business, which was related to advertising. While I didn’t find anything suspicious, my mother felt he was bragging a lot. He never gave a straight answer to any question!

“I have signed an NDA. Many big shots are involved in this project. I can’t reveal any names before the launch,” he replied when we asked about his work and workplace. My mother wasn’t satisfied with this and didn’t want me to continue with him. On the other hand, as we stayed in constant touch, I became too emotionally attached to notice the red flags my mother had already started seeing.

Finally, in February, he revealed the company’s name. Then, in March, he brought his parents to Guwahati, which came as a shock to my mother. “How can you bring your parents all of a sudden? If you introduce them, it means the relationship is official. No, that can’t happen. You should have discussed it with me first,” she made it clear.

A day before we met his parents, we met him at a nearby restaurant. He claimed that the project would launch in two months and that the website would go live soon. He also said he was the business development head. My mother didn’t suspect any foul play at the time, which, in hindsight, was a mistake—things could have ended there. His father was a doctor, and his mother was a teacher. Given these credentials, we believed his words. Long after, we discovered that the company he had been bragging about actually belonged to his friend.

The project he kept harping about never materialized. He continuously blamed the delays on COVID. Eventually, our engagement took place.

I clearly remember that some days before the engagement, we had a fight. “What if the project doesn’t happen even after the engagement? What am I supposed to tell my relatives?” I asked. His response was dismissive: “Why don’t you ask my father? He is an honourable doctor. Will he lie?” Then he added, “All girls are the same,” and gave me the cold shoulder. His reaction made me feel guilty.

There was another reason for my urgency. I had a medical condition that pushed me to hasten things. I was scared. I had also discussed it with him and made it clear how I wanted to live my married life.

After his silent treatment, he returned with sweet talk. For instance, he would say to my mother, “Aunty, how would it be if your son-in-law earned this much money?” My mother found his remarks irritating. For us, money was never the priority.

Apart from that, he often mocked my life, saying I was living like a slave by working a job and constantly urging me to start a business instead. But I was happy in my job.

I had completed my studies in Australia, specializing in aerospace engineering. I was the first person in my family to pursue something outside of business. My inspiration came from Wings of Fire by A.P.J. Abdul Kalam. I had even published a thesis. After finishing my studies, I felt homesick and returned to India by the end of 2015. I initially worked as a lecturer before transitioning to the corporate world in 2017, where I took on the role of a Senior Data Specialist. I was so happy with my career. But sadly, I left my job under the influence of my ex-husband.

He constantly flaunted his lifestyle and travel experiences, claiming that everything was possible because of his business. At first, I wasn’t convinced, but then he suggested, “Why don’t you take a break for six months or a year? Just try your hand at business. If it doesn’t work, you’re so academically sound—you can always take a course and land another job easily.” His words moved me. He even drafted a resignation email for me, which I simply copied and sent. Words would fall short to describe the fear I was having in my mind. I left my job in July 2021.

Then the engagement happened in October 14^th, 2021.

After the engagement, as time passed, I started panicking. There was still no clarity about his work status. I even asked his aunt, but she supported him. Self-doubt crept in. I started convincing myself that he was a good guy and doing everything I deserved. Today, when I think about it, I wish I had discussed it with my mother. Maybe I would have found some clarity then. I really wish I had…

The wedding date got fixed. Sometime before the wedding, they made demands. They asked for Mekhela chadar made of pure Assam silk for all their female guests. A Mekhela chadar costs around Rs. 8,000 to Rs. 10,000. I wanted everything to be on equal terms. For the “Mandhora” ritual, I requested the groom’s side to reciprocate with gifts for the bride’s family and relatives. My ex-husband found this aggressive. When the time came, they fooled us by giving low-quality gifts.

Finally, the marriage happened on 10^th February, 2022.

 

To be continued in Part 2…