Shadi (Hindi for Marriage)

Being engaged abroad has its perks. Wedding planning takes on fun, intense peaks -- rather than the low-grade constant planning that seems to happen in the States. But more than that, it enables a fascinating view into the culture you're living in -- and what engagement and marriage mean there.

For instance, a colleague asked me at lunch today if our wedding date had been decided. I said it will be next summer. His reply: "So negotiations are over?"

I felt quite bad, but I started laughing hysterically -- for he wasn't talking about negotiations with the various wedding vendors, but rather, negotiations between our parents!! I couldn't help but laugh when thinking about what our parents could actually negotiate about.

The initial reaction of most Indians when I say the wedding is next summer is shock. Over a year away?! As I've been tutored in the ways of traditional Indian matrimony, the first step, of course, is the parents meeting. This is where the horoscopes are discussed and negotiations happen.

The bride and groom-to-be traditionally first meet on their engagement day itself. An engagement can span anywhere between one week and three months (rarely longer). At the engagement, phone numbers are exchanged. Dating might happen during the engagement, or sometimes just a few phone calls before the ceremony.

As my colleague explained, "Sometimes the couple goes out before the marriage. But that happens mostly in Bombay."

When I jokingly ask single, male Indian friends when they're getting married, it always surprises me that there's a definitive answer. "This August" says one, or "next spring" says another. What's surprising isn't the level of planning, but rather, that they are not seeing anyone! The wedding date usually corresponds to the construction of their house being completed -- an important requisite before marriage. It is taken as a given that a suitable girl will be found once someone is ready to wed. Parents often carry their children's "bio-data", which is essentially a personal and family resume that's "swapped" with potential matches.

Of course, this is all changing and "love marriages" here are happening more and more. Following cues from the West, online dating sites have flourished here...Except here they're online marriage sites (www.shadi.com is the most popular; "Shadi" is the Hindi word for "marriage"). Another trend appears to be well-educated Indians working abroad, who come back home once they are ready for marriage. For as another friend noted, "Even though my cousin studied in the West, he would never marry an American. He's too scared of getting a divorce."

Back in Hyderabad

I'm back in Hyderabad after a whirlwind few weeks of traveling -- NY, DC, Boston... followed by a 10-day meditation retreat in the Himalayas.

As I was looking through my US notes today, I came across some quotes I had quickly jotted down on my last day there. Anant and I were at the Institute of Healthcare Improvement (IHI), meeting with their executive director of strategic partners and their CEO (who, by the way, was just nominated by Obama to head Medicare and Medicaid Services... quite a huge task!!)

Besides their impressive work in the field of clinical quality improvement, I continue to be amazed at IHI's focus on process. For them, it's not just about the outcome, but about the systems and processes that enable these outcomes. More and more, I'm realizing the tremendous importance of the "how", and not just the "what" or even the "why".

As part of their focus on process, they have "pods" around their office so that all members of related work can sit together and facilitate communication. One of my favorite aspects of their office are the quotes painted on their walls. Some favorites:

"It's kind-of fun to do the impossible" - Walt Disney

"Every system is perfectly designed to get the results it gets" (a sentiment my business school mentor and professor would surely agree with)

"What can you do by next Tuesday?" (well, a lot now that you ask!)

This is when I wish I were fluent in Hindi!

102 degrees today in Delhi and I'm walking back from lunch -- CocoBerry frozen yogurt melting quicker than I can eat it up.

I pass a pair of schoolboys; they must be about 7 or 8 years old. They're walking back from class, ties loosely undone on their grey uniform and black socks pulled up almost to their knees.

They have their arms draped around each other as they walk -- typical for boys here yet something rarely seen in the US. They're smiling, and I realize one of them is on the phone -- his friend nodding in agreement to just about everything Boy #1 says.

I watch them for the five minutes it takes to cross paths. The whole time Boy #1 is on the phone, and it looks like quite an intense conversation.

As I pass them, I realize that Boy #1's "phone" is merely his left hand -- thumb and little finger out and three middle fingers curved in.

Still, the conversation is quite intense. And still, his friend nods in agreement at everything said.

Boy do I wish I understood what was being said into the "phone"!

Makes me think of Adam Gopnik, who writes in the New Yorker about his 4-year old daughter's imaginary friend Charlie Ravioli, which makes him wonder about the mental health hazards of raising children in Manhattan -- where even their imaginary friends cancel lunch and who are always too busy to play.

This is one of my favorite lines because of how true it is: "Why...are grownups in New York so busy, and so obsessed with the language of busyness that it dominates their conversation? Why are New Yorkers always bumping into Charlie Ravioli and grabbing lunch, instead of sitting down with him and exchanging intimacies, as friends should, as people do in Paris and Rome?"

And after this afternoon's walk, I now wonder what characterizes imaginary friends in Delhi or Hyderabad.