CATHOLIC FORTRESS BREACHED

THERE WAS NO AMBIGUITY REGARDING THE PURPOSE WHEN I returned to Kerala for a month in December 1976. The marriage plans that I had put on hold during my previous visit home about three years ago were back on track.
I was ready to redeem my promise that I would marry when I was ready. The self-imposed embargo on my marriage was lifted as I disclosed to my parents that I was now ready to tie the knot.
A few weeks before I landed in Kerala, my mother had written to me that they had found this beautiful girl and they wanted me to go and meet her. Of course, the final word was mine. Naturally, I was quite excited as I set off on my trip to choose my life partner.
But, the venture could not have started on a worse note.

My journey from Seattle to Cochin was a disaster. One day, my first cousin Elizabeth, who I had never met as her parents, my father's brother and family, had moved to Malaysia, called me and introduced herself. She said that she was operating a travel agency. So I decided to book my tickets through her.
She booked me on Pan Am, from Los Angeles to New Delhi and then the connecting Indian Airlines flight to Cochin via Bombay. The Pan Am flight was smooth. From Delhi, I took my connection to Bombay. It was here that the problems started. When I reached Bombay, the Indian Airlines authorities informed me that my flight to Cochin had left an hour ago.
How could it be? I had reached Bombay on time and there was over an hour to go for my Cochin flight as per my ticket. They told me that the government changed the flight time. I told them, fine, I will take the next flight. Imagine my utter shock when the airline staff told me there were no tickets available for the next two weeks, because of the Christmas holiday season rush.
I rushed to meet the Indian Airlines station manager but he said there was no way he could help. I approached the airport manager and one of my cousins in Bombay who worked in the city police department reached out to his contacts.
It did not take me long to realize there was no help forthcoming. I was not the lone person caught out as there were a few nurses from Germany travelling home to Kerala who shared my plight.

Somehow, I was able to get a ticket for the next flight to Madras, which at least brought me closer home. Indian Airlines had recently purchased a few A300 aircraft and this was one of them. The next day I took the flight to Madras. Once again there was no connection to Cochin.
Left with little other option, I decided to try train. India has a system where women have a separate booth to buy tickets. Most of the time the lines are short. The nurses from Germany too had taken the Madras flight and were there buying the train tickets.

So they bought one ticket for me too. Another day had passed as we boarded the train and headed out to Kerala.

My local station Thiruvalla was about 6 miles from my home. For that final leg of my eventful journey, I took a taxi. The driver decided to take a few more passengers.
I agreed as this naturally meant my share of the fare would stand minimized. Instead, he demanded an excessive fare, way higher than what was prevalent.
When I questioned him, he replied rudely, expecting that I would back down. For me, that was the tipping point. Here I was, already frustrated with my trip and home three dates late, I lost it and caught the driver by the scruff of his neck and started shaking him, all the while shouting at him.
My father had to drag me away. He later told me that I was choking the driver. The driver was in a hurry to leave. Even as he took off, I called my cousins and friends and told them to stop him in town. They were ready to beat him up but he eluded them.
He probably took another route bypassing the main Kumbanad junction, anticipating trouble. My cousin James and his wife Mary who flew from the US two days after I reached home decided not to take the Bombay route after hearing about my ordeal.
My cousins in Kumbanad were already sharing their wisdom about what I did wrong. They told me that if I had given a bribe at the Bombay airport, I could have reached home on time.
They said it was common practice for overseas passengers to place dollar bills in their passport while seeking a ticket on the connecting flight and such a move would have assured me a seat.
I was neither aware of this practice nor in retrospect ready to give that bribe. But the fact remained that I had reduced my window to find a bride by three days.

My initial days were spent fine-tuning the list of girls I was to visit in a practice followed over the years called "pennu kaanal" or bride spotting. It was customary for over a dozen family members of the boy to visit the girl's house. It was no different in my case either. I insisted on talking to the girl. So they gave me some time to talk to her. She was nice and answered my questions but a controversy broke out regarding her age.
I was 25 and when I asked her she told me she was 24. Her family told us that she was only 22 years old. We were confused. Next week when her family came to confirm the wedding date, I voiced my concern to my sister Rajamma. She said I should talk to my father and his brother Abraham.
My father sent word that they should bring her high school certificate which had the real birthday. When they brought the records we found she was 28 years old. I was not upset with her age but I was upset with the fact that I was lied to. We called off the wedding.
I met another 12 girls but none could convince me that they were the right match for me. By then, about three weeks had passed and I believed that it was not the right time for me to get married. Till then, everything I had planned for my life had fallen into place. So I had good reason to believe that I should wait for the right girl.
I told my parents that we should hold my marriage plans till I returned in another two years. They were disappointed but agreed with my decision. They were not the only ones who were disap-pointed. All these trips to visit potential brides for me were arranged by my father's first cousin John. He was a popular marriage broker who also hired out his car as a taxi for these bride visits.

Moreover, he knew everybody, all around. When I told him that I was going back to the US and would return only after two years he appeared perhaps more disappointed than my parents. My uncle took only a couple of days to bounce back. He could not hide his excitement as he told me that he had found the right girl for me. He was convinced I would like the girl, no questions asked. He soon disclosed who the girl was. He did not have to look far as she was his wife's sister's daughter!
The only problem was she was a Catholic and we were Protestants. Trying to get a Catholic girl married to a Protestant boy would not be easy at all. My mother knew the girl and came out in full support of this alliance.
It then came out that it was this same girl she had mentioned to me in her letter while I was still in the US. She had stopped pushing this girl's case once she came to know her Catholic background. In those days, Catholic families were reluctant to give girls away in marriage to Protestant boys.
Her name was Kusumam, an uncommon name for a Christian girl. They had met each other at the same John's son's wedding some time back. In the old days, all families pitched in during their relative's wedding. The night before the wedding everyone cooked or helped in some way to prepare the food.
My mother and this girl were sitting together peeling onions when my mother shared with those gathered around that her son was coming from the US soon and that he was looking for a girl.
My mother decided she liked Kusumam and started making enquiries about her. It was only when she found out that she was a Catholic my mother decided not to pursue the match. Meanwhile, Kusumam seemed to have paid heed to my mother's announcement that her son needed to find a match once he reached India.

That became evident when she started suggesting the names of a few of her cousins who were Protestants. One of them was beautiful but had a squint eye.
What I wish to believe is that Kusumam was quite interested in marrying me and hence started suggesting the names of her cousins who I was certain to find not to my taste. But that is a far-fetched theory.
The truth is Kusumam was only 20 years old and still had one year to go to complete her degree in Zoology. So, she got busy suggesting the names of her Marthomite cousins for me in all earnestness. It was as if she was not nurturing any plans to get married anytime soon.
Consequently, when Uncle John proposed Kusumam's name, my mother was over the moon, saying she knew the girl, she was very beautiful and the right one for me. It was then that she confessed she had once chosen Kusumam before the Catholic hurdle came in the way. Uncle John insisted that he could convince Kusumam's father to agree to this marriage.
Now, a meeting needed to be arranged between the families and also between the boy and the girl. Kusumam was not thinking of getting married at that point of time. She was enjoying her college life. So the plan was for Uncle John to pick her up from college and bring her to his house. After all, his wife Chinnama was one of Kusumam's favorite aunts.
The next day I was asked to go over to Uncle John's house to meet Kusumam. The moment I met her I knew she was everything I dreamed about. She was beautiful, tall and slim. I had a brief conver-sation with her. All our cousins were hiding in different corners of the house. Even now I wonder if some of them overheard our little chat.
When I got home my mother asked me what I thought of her. I told her she was the right partner for me. I was not too sure whether

she liked me or not. Weddings are never a one-way street. If the girl says no, it's over. I was not merely thrilled but quite relieved when she said yes to the proposal.
Suddenly, it dawned on me that I needed to return to the US pretty soon. I had taken leave for a month and that period was nearly over.
We still had to go through two important steps - engagement and marriage. Kusumam was only 20 and I was not too sure if she fully understood the seriousness of marriage or whether she got to
know what I was all about. I think she saw me up close only when we went to buy her wedding sari I saw her looking at me curiously from behind a pillar in the place where we went shopping.
I needed to think about her tender age when each of my three children turned 20. I very well knew they would not have been ready for marriage at that time.
Not that I was either much older or more mature as I turned 26 on January 10th and got married exactly a week later. Our wedding was conducted by a newly consecrated Bishop Easow Mar Timotheos. He had visited me in Seattle about six months back soon after I bought a three-bedroom house in Kent, Washington.
At that time, his advice to me was that I should find a bride from Kerala. Bishop Timotheos had come to the US for higher studies but had to return in mid-January following the passing away of the Mar Thoma Metropolitan. As I found out that he was returning to India a few days before my wedding, I requested him to conduct the wedding. He agreed.
This was the first wedding he conducted after consecration. He would remain very dear to us. He was one of the Bishops to pass away at the relatively young age of 56. That was only 11 years after conducting our marriage.

Then began my plans to get Kusumam to join me in the US. Kusumam's birthday officially was June 1 while her real birthday was on October 7. This discrepancy was not uncommon as children needed to be six years old to start class 1 on June 1. To ensure that their wards did not lose a school year, many parents resorted to the practice of showing June 1 as their birthday.
This raised one problem. The birthdate in the school records was not acceptable to the US Consulate. They only accepted either the Panchayat (county) records or the baptism certificate issued by the church. I got her baptism certificate as age proof while going to the US consulate.
As I was glancing through her records I noticed her baptism certificate showed October 14 as her birthday. Later, I found out that Kusumam's father who was in the military could not reach home on the date stipulated by the church and therefore got the priest to enter October 14 as her birthday.
Even today I do not know anyone else who has three different birthdays. Once I realized that the date was wrong I requested the consulate officer to return the submitted paperwork for correction. That was not the end of her birthday story.
When she applied for her passport, they would only accept her school certificate as her date of birth. One of my cousins used his influence and managed to issue the necessary certificate to get her passport with October 14th as the birthdate.
I finally returned to the US by mid-February, having extended my leave by nearly one month. I could only hope that my boss would not make a fuss as I had a genuine reason for staying back and thus putting off my rejoining date. Kusumam stayed back to get her visa. Those days it took only 3-4 months for the US visa to come through. I could hardly wait to start my life in the US as a family man.

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