The Great Official Husband Hunt

This is a humorously written book about a grave matter--the marrying off of daughters! It's a first-person narrative of a 33 year-old Indian woman, Anju, living in New York, and many mothers with grown-up, single daughters will find their own emotions, their dilemmas, unfolding in the pages of this hilarious, yet sensitive, book. More importantly, perhaps, single women (30 and above) will readily relate to the protagonist.
Anju has an exciting job and a self-sufficient existence--but in her social circle at home in India, the fact that she is not married, while her younger cousins are, is what everyone's attention is focused on. Even her mother tells her, in no unclear terms, that being married is a bigger priority than being happy.
Anju's very first romance with an American is nipped in the bud because 'the core of Jeff's life was freedom and adventure. The core of mine was restraint and caution. On top of that I was guilty and afraid all the time.' Just as well, one might venture, for Anju's mother isn't quite complimentary about 'those Umricans'. Kumar, whom Anju meets over the Internet, seems perfect--until he drops out of the scene on learning that she lives on her own in New York.
Anju isn't averse to an arranged match as long her ideas of compatibility aren't violated. As 'The Great Official Husband Hunt' proceeds we meet such amusingly nicknamed suitors as 'Mr Monobrow', whose eyebrows merge in the middle. Happily, the ending is romantic, realistic, optimistic .and beautifully evolved. By the time we get there we are thoroughly entertained by the book's social realism (e.g. in the convincingly gorgeous description of an Indian wedding) and psychological realism (e.g. in depicting the inhibitions of Indian girls). There is also an unobtrusively introduced didactic dimension: both parents and daughters learn something about the importance of self-discovery, self-respect, self-preservation and the ability to live with grace.
Here's one paragraph that well illustrates the book's serious side: 'Sheryl had asked me once what defined me, and I didn't have an answer. Now I did: Not my parents, not my quest for a husband, not my quaint religious endeavours. I was going to be defined by the work I did, the people I befriended and the impact I would have in my small, but increasingly happy, world.'
This is a book I didn't put down--to do other, 'more important' things. And it's not only because I have a marriageable daughter.
Nausheen Rahman is an educator and freelance writer.
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