It was like running red-hot pokers over Achilles' heel

Anuma and I went to dinner to Yoko's last night. I don't think the two of us have ever gone out together for a meal - it's pretty cool to be able to do that with my grandmother. That said, the evening was entirely enjoyable until the rickshaw ride back. Somehow the dreaded topic of marriage came up, and when she asked me if I had any plans, I said, "I don't know. I'm only 21." She remained silent for a few seconds, and then said I needed to stop being so averse to the idea of marriage. I replied - my quiet voice masking my irritation - that I wasn't against the idea of marriage at all, but that it was just too overwhelming for me to even consider at this stage.

She seemed to understand, but just when I thought the conversation was over, she added, "Well, you know, when you decide you're ready, you're going to have to change. You have to learn how to adjust; you're a woman. Women are naturally soft. You have to learn to make sacrifices for your husband; a woman must learn to respect her culture." Through the entire spiel, I nervously played with the hem of my skirt, forcing myself to calmly ignore her. I took into consideration the values and beliefs she was brought up with, and decided that I would override her unwarranted advice by changing the topic. My plan failed miserably when she gifted me the final punch in the stomach, the words that single-handedly corroded the evening.

She said, "That's probably why you're single. You're too independent and assertive. You can't expect men to want someone like that."

I felt my body burn with the nascent fire of her insinuations, and amid the Linking Road traffic, I spewed my anger in astonishingly fluent Bengali. I spat out my firm belief in gender socialization; I questioned her glorification of a culture that encourages women to be submissive to win love. She protested by saying that she wasn't asking me to be submissive; she was just looking out for me. By then my wrath had escaped its confines, but not before gleefully giving them the finger. I said I didn't want to be in love with a man who'd want me to change. I said I didn't want to be married if it meant I had to give up my life. Yes, marriage entails comprises, but they have to come from both sides. I wanted equality in all spheres - Was that really such a bad thing?"I'm not ready to be unselfish." I yelled. "That's exactly why I can't even think of marriage right now. What's the point of getting into something that I know will make me miserable?"

My voice was shrill. Her silence was triumphant.

The conversation has been running through my head all day, cacophonous as an untuned violin, as I try to make some sense of it. I know that if it had to happen all over again, I'd react the same way, say the same things, fume over the same words. Why, then, do I feel so terribly shaky? If my beliefs are so invincible, why do I feel them being clawed by insecurity?

I'm afraid of the answers.