{"id":2642,"date":"2016-05-22T02:21:49","date_gmt":"2016-05-21T20:51:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/?p=2642"},"modified":"2016-05-22T02:21:49","modified_gmt":"2016-05-21T20:51:49","slug":"live-in-relationships","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/?p=2642","title":{"rendered":"What Do I Call My Boyfriend in Hindi?"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

T<\/span><\/p><\/div>

he other day, the Supreme Court passed a judgement affirming the right of adults to consensually live together<\/a> without marriage. It\u2019s amazing that the judiciary actually has to issue statements like this, but I\u2019m relieved by the declaration. Earlier this year, when my boyfriend and I were looking for a place to move in, it didn\u2019t seem like South Delhi landlords saw it quite that way.\n\n\u201cIf they ask, you\u2019re married,\u201d became the tagline for our house-hunt,<\/a> a phrase repeated by many a broker<\/a> in that sidling, smarmy-but-well-meaning way only Delhi brokers have. Not wanting to get caught in a lie later, we persisted with the truth. When we finally met our One True Landlord through a Facebook post, posing as \u201cfriends\u201d who wanted to split the rent, he surprised us by asking if we were in \u201ca healthy, stable relationship\u201d. He wanted to avoid any drama. Still, it was when we emphasised that we \u2013 two 27-year-olds \u2013 had informed our parents<\/a> and weren\u2019t risking an honour killing, that he really relaxed.\n\nOnce our landlord had ascertained that we were not going to torch his flat in the throes of a lovers\u2019 quarrel, he introduced us to Downstairs Aunty as \u201ca couple\u201d. Not too married, not uncommitted \u2013 juuuust right, the Goldilocks term of the modern sanskari lexicon.\n\nThe thing about living with your non-spouse<\/a> is that all the angst associated with it is often experienced as a language problem. It involves frequently referring to your partner in third person. Downstairs Aunty refers to my boyfriend as my husband, even though we suspect she\u2019s onto us, and we are not going to correct her. It\u2019s only for everyone else that the words matter, that make it a solid, certain thing, something with an outline and a shape. A hard fact, as they say, that can\u2019t be easily broken.\n\nWere we a soft fiction, then, our world fragile?\n\n

There is an illicitness and frivolity associated with being \u201cgirlfriend-boyfriend\u201d, a lack of heft that makes the entire relationship seem disposable<\/p><\/blockquote> \n\nLanguage has a way of exposing you: the words you choose reveal who you are. A poverty of language renders you even more vulnerable: As you fumble for words, you give away so much of your truth \u2013 it slips away in the gaps you try to frantically plug with \u201cum\u201d and \u201cer\u201d. I use these sounds liberally when referring to my boyfriend, when talking to relatives, neighbours and an assortment of people who provide their services as we set up home in Delhi. That\u2019s because there\u2019s no respectable word for \u201cboyfriend\u201d in Hindustani.\n\nThere are no words for a lot of contemporary phenomena but it\u2019s not everyday that you have to explain the meaning of \u201cNetflix and chill\u201d to Downstairs Aunty. Your flatmate, on the other hand, is a different matter.\n\nThe first language of many North Indians including myself, Hindustani<\/a>, has no word for romantic bonds outside of matrimony. This makes it almost impossible to publicly \u201cdefine the relationship\u201d, the ultimate marker of romantic seriousness. People might use the word for \u201cfriend\u201d \u2013 dost, mitr, saheli. My grandfather, raised in a genteel, pre-Independence culture of arch sauciness, often alluded to any male friend as \u201csahela\u201d. A change of vowel opened up the possibility of a playful friendship with the opposite sex. It\u2019s not an actual word, which was the whole point, and none of those boys were my boyfriends.\n\nI once heard the word \u201cdostan\u201d; a rakish uncle gave me to understand that men once used it to mean \u201cgirlfriend\u201d in the \u201960s and \u201970s. It is a fair approximation of the English<\/a>; there\u2019s an element of equality here. Of course, words have always existed to describe a woman you\u2019re going around with \u2013 \u201crakhail\u201d (mistress, pejorative), \u201cpremika\u201d (loverrrr, see: affair<\/a>, torrid) to \u201csetting\u201d, that evergreen misogynistic description of the woman every North Indian man dreams of owning.\n\nIt\u2019s telling perhaps that in many ways, at least in a symbolic regime that is still wedded to pre-modern notions of women\u2019s autonomy, the tawaifs<\/a> or courtesans of the 19th century seem to be the closest ancestors of the girlfriends of the 21st. Girlfriends are often women you have conversations and sex with, but who are not the caste-appropriate, at-least-notionally virginal wives that most Indian men eventually take. So what else can they be but a provisional distraction? T<\/strong>here is an illicitness and frivolity associated with being \u201cgirlfriend-boyfriend\u201d, a lack of heft that makes the entire relationship seem disposable, like a practice run for the final parentally approved union.\n\nMy boyfriend and I are luckier than most, to have advantages of class and caste as well as that of relatively reasonable parents. Even so, my mother\u2019s primary anxiety had to do with how his mother would perceive me, as the sort of scarlet woman who has the temerity to shack up with her son sans mangalsutra. I understand where she\u2019s coming from: hell, when I <\/em>was a teenager in my conservative tier-2 North Indian hometown, even telephoning someone of another gender got you labelled \u201cfast\u201d. In fact, a survey<\/a> last year revealed that more than three-fourths of the 18-25 middle-class urban population across the country was against living together without marriage. To be fair, I don\u2019t think I would have moved in with someone who wasn\u2019t willing or able to declare the nature of our relationship to his circle, as if it were something easily rid in the dead of night. And private rituals can be just as significant as public ones: when we signed the lease on our flat the sight of our inky squiggles side by side was proof of a life we were committing to jointly.\n\nThere was an ad for tea<\/a> a few years ago, featuring a young couple surprised by a visit from the boy\u2019s parents. They are displeased about the situation until the girl brews tea, demurely dons a dupatta and serves it to them, at which point the prospective mother-in-law warms up to her in the guise of commenting on the tea \u2013 \u201cBuri nahin hai\u201d \u2013 not bad. Stocking up on tea and dupattas seems to be the way to avoid censure. For my mother<\/a>, it was my boyfriend\u2019s mother\u2019s act of giving us a microwave for the house that calmed her nerves as if this was a purifying ritual, a demonstration of bestowing izzat unto us \u201cfrom the boy\u2019s side\u201d.\n\nOf course, none of my relatives or neighbours back home can know what I am doing. \u201cWhat\u2019s the need to announce it?\u201d as if I were evading taxes or dealing drugs<\/a>. It\u2019s weird being asked to report events in my life and then having to mentally chop off huge chunks of it so that what\u2019s left is an unappetising, skeletal version of my meaty, flavourful biography, all bones.\n\nPainters came to our apartment one Sunday. They spent some time trying to get a read on the nature of our set-up. I sauntered about in pyjamas<\/a> with my laptop, while my boyfriend played the role of domestic custodian with panache. It\u2019s possible that we didn\u2019t act like the sort of typical straight married young couples they might have encountered \u2013 the woman managing the domestic space and the man not giving a hoot. The conclusion they arrived at regarding our relationship was that it was not a spousal one.\n\n\u201cIs she your sister<\/a>?\u201d one of them asked my boyfriend, as if I wasn\u2019t even in the room. He said this rhetorically, in a manner designed to elicit a \u201cyes\u201d.\n\nHe was thwarted by my boyfriend\u2019s response, \u201cNo, she\u2019s my girlfriend.\u201d The painter then launched into a story about how he had recently done some work in a flat occupied by a young executive who had \u201cfour girlfriends, can you believe it sir!\u201d\n\nHis eyes were popping out of his head, the exaggerated tone invited my boyfriend to disapprove of that man\u2019s ways. He spent the rest of the morning giving me an odd look, somewhere between a smirk and a side-eye.\n\n\u201cShould I just say friend from next time?\u201d my boyfriend mused later when we discussed this.\n\nI feel uncomfortable about that, even though it has nothing to do with the truth of our relationship. I feel uncomfortable because doing this censors the romantic thrill, edits out the companionate zest that is part of our life together, like succumbing to a form of moral policing<\/a>. I feel uncomfortable because in a social context in which platonic friendships between members of dissimilar genders are regarded as a front for rip-roaring sex scandals, it makes me feel powerless, as a certain sort <\/em>of woman whom a man will not accept in a way that is deemed respectable.\n\nI feel uncomfortable because every time I have to mention my boyfriend in his absence, I have to resort to the cold anonymity of pronouns. I have to pause awkwardly mid-sentence and teeter on the rim of an utterance that will divulge too much and too little at the same time. In the old days, women couldn\u2019t refer to their husbands by name, blushingly murmuring \u201cmere woh\u201d.\n\nThat archaic, delicious combination of pronouns \u2013 possessive and nominative \u2013 seems, ironically, to be the grammatical solution to this crisis of love, language and living in sin.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The first language of many North Indians including myself, Hindustani, has no word for romantic bonds outside of matrimony. I use \u201cum\u201d and \u201cer\u201d liberally when referring to my boyfriend, when talking to relatives and neighbours. That\u2019s because there\u2019s no respectable word for \u201cboyfriend\u201d in the language.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":246,"featured_media":2643,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2642","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-love-and-sex"],"yoast_head":"\nWhat Do I Call My Boyfriend in Hindi?<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"The first language of many North Indians including myself, Hindustani, has no word for romantic bonds outside of matrimony. 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