Where did you two meet?"

My husband Paras and I frequently get asked this by friends, acquaintances and occasionally, strangers. It's an innocuous question, but the answer is never quite as straightforward.

We exchange glances — a secret signal to decide which version of the story we're going to tell. Depending on the audience, it's usually the, what I like to call, "incomplete version." That's his to tell — he's a talented poker player.

"We met in New York, through friends," he'll say in such a matter-of-fact way, most people don't ask for details. That's not entirely a lie, except in this case, the "friends" who introduced us happen to be our moms. We had an arranged marriage.

The 'friends' who introduced us happened to be our moms.

Unfortunately, most people don't seem to take to the idea well. Back when I was naïve enough to reveal the actual truth, I heard variations of:

"Were you forced into it?"(Unless you think my mother pinned me down and dragged me to the altar, guess again!)

"Did you get to meet each other beforehand?" (Umm ... yes.)

"Were you married off as children?" (*speechless*)

"Did you have to pay his family a dowry? (Of course. That would be two goats and a lifetime membership to Amazon Prime.)

I could laugh off ignorant comments like the ones above, but the hesitation to come clean started when I kept hearing: "Oh! You just didn't seem the type…."

I can understand the surprise. I didn't think I was the type to have an arranged marriage either.

I was having lunch with my mom one Tuesday afternoon, six years ago in Singapore. I had recently returned home after getting my Master's degree in journalism in New York.

"I've found a boy for you," was her opening line as we sat down at our table. I nearly fell off my chair. I had been dreading this conversation, as variations of it had come up plenty of times in the three years prior, after I turned 21.

My mother had, unbeknownst to me, created a profile for me on an Indian matrimonial website and had been communicating with parents of eligible South Asian men all over the world.

This was one was 6'3" — an important fact as at 5' 9," I'm considered too tall to be easily marriageable within the South Asian community. He was a cybersecurity consultant in Atlanta and three years older than me. Perfect, according to Indian convention. I rolled my eyes in disbelief!

Soon, I was aghast to learn that not only had she "found me someone," she had already sent his parents my resume, photos of me, spoken to his parents a few times and already grilled him in a 45-minute phone interview with questions such as, "Do you smoke?" (no) and "What are your hobbies?" (cricket). Apparently our families had even matched our stars, and Hindu astrology said we were compatible. Bear in mind that we hadn't even seen each other's photos yet.

Every fiber in my being rebelled against this as I struggled to remain calm. I had co-founded a company, I had a master's degree ... I could find my own man thankyouverymuch!

"I already gave his parents your email address," my mother continued. "Be nice."

Ruchika and Paras when they met in 2011. Courtesy of Ruchika Tulshyan

The man in question, Paras, and I began a polite email exchange across the oceans — he in Atlanta, while I was still in Singapore. We started with a few emails, which turned into all-day online chats and finally, phone calls that lasted hours. Within two months, I wanted to make sure I wasn't wasting my time. I decided to visit my sister in New York for her college graduation — and casually slip this fact in conversation with Paras.

The muggy June afternoon that we were due to meet in New York played out like a comedy of errors. I spilled orange juice on my carefully-selected white dress an hour before our date and had to rush back across town to my sister's apartment to change. Paras was running over two hours late, after a delayed flight from Atlanta.

When he finally got into Manhattan, he arrived at the wrong place (a different location of my favorite cafe). I'm a stickler for time, a trait most people from Singapore share. I was racking up quite a phone bill on international roaming using my Singapore cell, just trying to communicate with him. I was starting to think this was a terrible idea.

Then, he finally arrived.

Joseph Radhik

Our conversation was easy and warm. He ordered a chocolate brownie and ate it with abandon — pausing to share, of course — but not too worried about keeping up appearances. He listened more than he talked, asked questions that were provocative and thoughtful and had a dry sense of humor that could cut through any awkward moment, rare as they were.

As a journalist, I've learned to read people quickly. With Paras, it was obvious that what you see was what you got. His candor was refreshing and biting (he admitted that he had met two other women in the last week in arranged setups and that he had an escape route planned if he saw me and didn't think he would be interested).

As if.

In modern times, and especially as online dating has become more mainstream, many urban professionals of South Asian descent have built loving and happy marriages through arranged meetings. In most families, the process is collaborative, the couple date independently and have complete say in the outcome.

Within a week of meeting each other, we decided to get married.

In fact, in our case, both families were caught off guard when within a week of meeting each other, we decided to get married. My mom, ironically, even expressed remorse at the speed: "Are you sure? You don't have to marry him in January!"

Here's the thing, not all marriages — arranged or otherwise — last. Having important conversations early is one of the successful components of our set up that eventually led to marriage.

This meant that by the second date, we had already talked about whether we wanted kids (yes), how many (ideally, two) and what were our long-term life goals. Traveling together was something that was important to me. It's still unusual for "arranged couples" to travel together before marriage, but we were able to spend a week in Paris while we were dating.

Ruchika and Paras during their wedding. Joseph Radhik

After counseling multiple friends through bad breakups — "Why didn't he tell me he didn't want kids earlier?" — I've come to realize that is the secret sauce to our arranged relationship.We only got emotionally invested in each other once we figured out that we wanted the same things. Of course, the thing about arranged marriages is we have shorter deadlines than most non-arranged matches.

We went from meeting virtually to dating long-distance to marriage in seven months. Five years later, there's still a process of discovery and an element of surprise that has helped our relationship weather many storms.

Ruchika Tulshyan is a journalist and author of .

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