When Suganda met Shammi she was a virgin. Not only was she a virgin, she had never kissed a man, or even held a male hand, save her younger brother's, which her parents began reprimanding her for when he turned fifteen.
Suganda's parents had found Shammi's profile in the matrimonial section of The Times of India, and a week after the Sunday ad came out, Suganda was sitting face-to-face with a shy fresh-faced man of twenty-one. She had turned eighteen just a week ago and her parents were anxious to get her married.
Eleven years from the day of their marriage, much has changed in the lives of Shammi and Suganda.
At first glance, Suganda and Shammi seem like an ordinary young couple, somewhat gilded by the prodigious change of urbanisation, but they have a secret that lifts them out of the ordinary — almost a decade after their arranged marriage, they have agreed to live in an open marriage.
Suganda speaks to me candidly about her open marriage. Both she and her husband have affairs but remain committed to each other. They are both open-minded individuals in creative fields and an open relationship allows them to explore connections with other people that they never had a chance to experience when young.
It all started three years ago when Suganda found incriminating text messages on Shammi's phone. At the same time she had found herself insanely attracted to one of their tenants, a 6'2' young American whose hair was as golden as the mustard that grew on her parent's farm, and whose eyes were as blue as the cloudless summer sky. When she found the SMSs on her husband's phone, she didn't feel anger or sadness as she thought she would. Instead she felt interminable relief.
She wasn't sure how Shammi would respond to her adultery; after all, he was an Indian man. But she also knew that he was more open-minded than their fathers.
'One day I confronted him about the messages and he told me that he liked a girl in his nightclub, but only sexually. I told him that I had romantic feelings towards John. I was scared at first, you never know with men. But he simply shook his head and told me that he understood. I am not sure exactly when we came to our open understanding. It's not like we ever sat down and talked about it. He saw me hanging out with John, I saw him with the women from the club. And basically we just sort of got with it,' says Suganda.
I meet Shammi at the nightclub.
'Suganda and I were young when we got hitched, yaar,' he began. 'We did it for our parents, not for ourselves. We really love each other, but life is all about experiences, and we don't want to deny that to each other. Life is short, and we both want to live it.'
'Would you ever consider ending the marriage?' I ask.
'No chance!' he retorts. 'I love Suggi. She is my best friend. We have grown up together, and I can't imagine being married to anyone else. Also, I would never break up my family. I love them all too much for that. My affairs are different — they are for masti, for mazaa, not for love.'
A survey conducted in 2011 amongst people living in urban India shed some light on extramarital relationships. A whopping 23 per cent men confessed to having an affair as against 8 per cent women. Of these a surprising 37 per cent female respondents said that their spouse knew about their affairs. These figures were bolstered by a similar survey by Outlook magazine in which 25.4 per cent people confessed that they have had sex with someone outside of their marriage.
For Shammi, finding girls was never difficult, especially of late. Monstrous call centres have been mushrooming around Gurgaon, and there has been an influx of young girls from around the country who have moved here, free for the first time from the prying eyes of parents and college matrons. These girls frequent the nightclub on the weekends. Most find DJ Shammi irresistible, and he is spoilt for choice.
It is not so easy for Suganda. She recognises the pitfalls of being older. She has lost her figure after the birth of the twins, and her breasts too have lost their firmness, no matter how many chest exercises she does. She realises that she will never find 'true love' with the men she meets through online dating sites and chat rooms.
I am curious about the dynamics of an open marriage. There doesn't seem to be any tension between husband and wife, not in the weeks that I have known them. Instead there seems to be a mutual tolerance, and a comfortable companionship. But I could also see that nuances were lost. They didn't joke around. The inflections were missing, the small things that built up into big things, the kiss on the cheek, the holding of hands, the arm around the shoulder, all seemed to be gone.
One day, as I am playing with the twins, a shrieking Suganda runs into the room, telling me that Shammi has been in an accident, and we must go to the hospital immediately. I freeze with fear.
A few days later I visit a recuperating Shammi at home.
He tells me in a ruminative vein, 'You know, during my recent near-death experience, I realised something. Actually, I realised many things.'
He reaches out to Suganda and squeezes her hand. He hugs one of the twins tightly to his chest. He is rethinking his DJ career. Maybe he could get into real estate or the stock market or maybe help Suganda with her flourishing business.
'After the accident, when I came so close to dying, so close to losing them, I realised how few things matter in life, and that my family is really all that I have.'
