Sometimes I wonder why seek marriage at all?
Is it to fix myself, to calm the chaos,
to pin my spirit down like a butterfly behind glass?
Is it to hand my tangled heart to someone else
so they might mend what I cannot?

Is it to lean on another soul,
so I no longer face the echo of my own?
To feel whole, as if another could complete
the unfinished symphony of who I am?

Or is it something more sacred
a silent ache, to share my breath and days
with someone who can see me,
truly see me,
even when I cannot see myself?

Like Krishna resting in Radha’s hands,
true intimacy means laying bare
the most hidden corners of my being,
the parts the world can never imagine,
and still feeling safe,
safe in the arms of someone
who would never turn away.

At twenty-five, my mind is busy
building, dreaming, rising and failing,
no space yet for garlands or vows.

But in a distant tomorrow,
yes I may marry,
most likely for love,
because to bond myself to a stranger,
however practical,
would feel like exiling my own heart.

I cannot share a lifetime
with someone who only fits on paper,
when my soul asks for a love
that feels like a holy refuge.

So why then marry?
Is it just for children?
To satisfy society’s clock
that calls out with rituals and tradition?

No marriage is not about being rescued,
but about being seen,
about letting someone witness
the chaos of my spirit
and choose to stay anyway.

It is about building something real,
beyond children,
beyond respectability,
beyond applause
a fearless partnership
rooted in gentle truth.

I long to learn what it is
to be a husband, a father,
a son-in-law, a brother-in-law,
to let these new names
reveal new parts of me.

Not because I feel incomplete
I stand whole,
but there is a place in me
that longs for order,
for a calm harbor
in a stormy world.

I do not need a witness
to record my life’s glory
I am not that important.

But I do need intimacy
yes, desire lives there,
but desire alone cannot hold a house.
I crave a love
where I can unmask myself,
utterly vulnerable,
yet still protected
the way Krishna, cosmic and unshaken,
felt safe in Radha’s gentle hands.

Children yes, I dream of three,
to build a tiny universe of wonder
from love’s fertile ground.
Not a duty, but a wish,
and if life surprises us,
I will greet its gift with open arms.

Because in the end,
all we ever do
is to love
and to be loved
this is the secret
woven through every ritual,
every question,
every dream.

Marriage is not about proving my worth,
nor fixing my flaws.
It is about being chosen,
and choosing,
again and again,
someone who sees me fully
and stays.

That is what marriage means to me
a safe place
to lay down every hidden piece of my soul,
knowing I will not be abandoned.
Everything else
the rituals, the titles,
the blessings
are only petals
scattered on that path.