The Suicide and the Accident - Part of A Marriage Made in Heaven
This is another part of the Marriage Made in Heaven story (Part I and Part II)
It was at the age of fifteen that Shyni decided she would marry a foreigner, or a white man as they refer to us in India. For years she had been telling her friends and family that she would do this. Shyni had a strong and independent great grandmother who was a very big influence upon her. This great matriarch taught Shyni how to think for herself and to see through the illusions that most people live under, which is one of the reasons Shyni is so compatible with me. Shyni did not like the way Indian men treated their wives and did not want to grow up to become a slave to her husband. She wanted someone who would see her for who she really was and would treat her with love and respect. She saw the odds of that happening with an Indian man to be quite slim.
Shyni’s father, Master Thomas, was a great musician and well known all over India for his talent. He had many students from all over the world coming to learn to play tabla and purchase a tabla made by the hands of this master craftsman. Master Thomas also taught twenty one other instruments, vocals, and dance. He won many awards for his work. So there was plenty of white folk hanging around the family home.
At the age of thirty, Shyni was already in danger of becoming an old spinster in her culture. Master Thomas had been looking for a husband for Shyni since she was eighteen years old. But he was trying to hook her up with an Indian man. A few of his European students offered to marry her; one of them was a handsome young movie director from London England. Even though Master Thomas wanted Shyni to marry an Indian man, he allowed Shyni to decide, and she declined them all. They did not feel like the right suitor for her. Master Thomas died shortly before Shyni’s twenty fifth birthday without finding her a husband.
Seven months before I met Shyni, when she was nearly thirty years old, a man from Vienna Austria proposed to her. He had known Shyni since she was fifteen and had been a student of Master Thomas. Shyni accepted and the next day they both went their separate ways, he back to Vienna and Shyni back to her job as a nurse in Delhi. Three months later he returned to Kumily to marry Shyni. He called her in Delhi and told her to quit her job and come to be married. Shyni did just that. But the years had corrupted what had once been a nice young man. He was sexually active with other Indian women and into drugs. He began insulting certain family members and after nine days Shyni called off the marriage. They never even touched each other, not once in the fourteen years that they knew each other. Shyni remained a virgin.
Just a few weeks before I met Shyni she became disillusioned with her life thinking that God had forgotten about her and attempted suicide. She grieved her father’s death, and her great grandmother who died at the age of 100, only months after Master Thomas, they were the only adult family members that understood Shyni and that only ones she could trust. She loved and missed them dearly. Shyni took an overdose of prescription medicine, about five times the dosage that should have killed her, and being a nurse she knew what a lethal dosage was. She awoke three days later very angry at God and asking, “Why did you send me back?” She was very upset. Her nine year old nephew Eju was the only family member to stick by her the entire time she was out cold. The adults left her to live or die, depending on the will of God.
Ten days later I came along. I knew nothing of her attempted suicide when I agreed to marry her.
Shyni’s sister and her husband Gopal came to Shyni’s home late that evening of the day I asked Shyni to marry me. I was back at my room busy writing my book. The next day I went to their house and met Jessie and Gopal. I sat down with the family to formally ask for Shyni’s hand in marriage. For about thirty minutes they asked me many questions; with Shyni interpreting I answered. Their talk sounded a bit harsh, there were times I was worried that there was a problem, but Shyni told me what they said, and I believed they were happy with the marriage. But in reality there were objections, worries and fears. Would I use her and then leave her behind? Would I humiliate the family? Her brother was concerned, her sister was supportive. Others were on the fence. I did not know this, and I am glad that I did not.
This was just like something out of a movie…no, even better…because it was happening to me. I marveled at how everything in my life, my previous experiences, up to this point made me ready, willing, and able to fully take this experience in and go with the flow of it. Even a few years earlier I would not have been up for this. Because I was on such a mission to fully understand Life I thought this was a great opportunity to immerse myself in such a different culture.
Yet there was one thing missing for me at this point, something that made me a bit uncomfortable.
These days I can tell when a woman is sexually interested in me. I even felt that kind of interest coming from the second woman I met. But I did not feel it with any of the others, and certainly NOT with Shyni. I did not feel any sort of intimate connection or chemistry with Shyni. Nor had I witnessed her express any sort of affection with any of her family members at this point.
I took some inner counseling about this. First I decided that this was too big of an event in my life for God to let me proceed if it was wrong for me. I knew something would come up to stop this wedding if Shyni was not right for me. This was not blind faith however; this was faith due to all of the amazing events that I have experienced in my life that has confirmed that God is watching over and protecting me…read my book for an overwhelming taste of those grand experiences.
The next thing I told myself was that Shyni wants intimacy and touch just like everyone else does. She has already told me how important it is for her to find the right husband and that it be for life. I could not believe that she would choose to go through her life with a man that she could not be intimate with. I figured that she was just used to holding that sort of energy back and that it would come out once we were married, when it was appropriate for her to do so. And finally I knew that I had the ability to bring the absolute best out of a person. Since Shyni was willing to work at making this relationship good, I knew I could teach her how to be a good lover if she had any difficulties at the start.
I also explained my concerns about intimacy with Shyni. I told her, “Physical intimacy is very important to me. I am not like an Indian man; I am not looking for a servant. Intimacy is the biggest reason
that I want a wife. Being my lover must come naturally and should not done out of duty and obligation.” Shyni’s response was simple, “You don’t have to worry, I understand.” She was too shy to say anything more about this issue. I finished that conversation by telling her, “I take my commitment to marry very seriously and will do everything I can to ensure we have a happy marriage. But I will not stay in a marriage that has no intimacy; I will not stay in a marriage that is unhappy. Please make sure you considered this before we proceed.”
By the end of the third day, although I had not touched her, I had gotten physically close enough to Shyni to feel the warmth of her intimate energy bodies. They did not close off when I came close. She felt very receptive. This helped to ease my worries.
Over the next few days I spent most of my time at her family home. Her sister, brother-in-law and their children stayed there for six days. With each day came more and more confirmation that I had made a good decision; especially when I saw how affectionate she was with her niece and nephew.
Although they had little money or income, they owned a nice home in a great spot right next to a grassy field which borders the wild animal preserve. Wild monkeys stop by frequently and I had an encounter with wild elephants while walking only half a kilometer from her house.
Shyni’s brother Shyam was twenty three at the time. He followed in his father’s footsteps, making tablas, teaching music, and singing his heart out. Shyam is also a world class musician; he gave his first public performance at the age of three. In the midst of the family making this decision, Shyam got a phone call inviting him and his group to give a live performance at a music college. We all interpreted this as a good omen, as God’s blessing, on our decision. This was a very high honor for Shyam because of the quality of this school and because he was the only outside performer that was invited.
When they suggested that I go along to the concert with him I was resistant due to the great traveling distance and a loss of two days time from writing my book. Intuitively I knew this would be a good experience to help bind me with Shyni’s family. My intuition turned out correct because Shyam was still a bit leery of me and he had the power to stop this marriage from happening. After that Shyam liked me and considered me a down to earth regular person, so I am glad that I went. I had trouble communicating with Shyam and his fellow musicians because they spoke very little English and I spoke no Malayalam at the time. (I am still learning; it is the second most difficult language on the planet.) I had to use all of the patience I could muster up and quiet my frustrations when things did not go as I expected, which was often. It was quite an adventure and learning experience for me.
On February 28th 2005, one week after meeting Shyni, we went to Peermade, a city that was an hour away for our “first” marriage. It was done in a law office which begun the legal process for marrying a foreigner. This consisted of signing a legal document that contained wedding vows and filling paperwork with the government. They contacted my country, the USA, to make sure I am not already married. It takes forty days for this to complete.
However there were complications…when we got there the attorney who was handling the paperwork did not have the required “stamp paper” to write the official documents on. I had driven to Peermade alone on the motor cycle that I had rented from Mohammad. It was a beautiful drive through the Western Ghats Mountain Range that I enjoyed thoroughly. The rest of the family came by bus, the common form of transportation for the majority of the people of India. There was no stamp paper to be found in this small legal town we were in, don’t ask me why, that’s just how Indians do business. So I was elected to take Gopal, Shyni’s sister’s husband, and drive to another town to find it. After a few hours of searching we came back empty handed.
Meanwhile the family had made a few phone calls and located stamp paper in another town but I was too tired of driving to make yet another one hour round trip drive. My contract with Mohammad, who I rented the motor bike from, prohibited me from letting anyone else use the bike. So it was with great reluctance that I gave the motor bike to Gopal and the attorney to go and retrieve the stamp paper.
About forty minutes later we get a phone call from Gopal, they had an accident. They were both hurt and the bike badly damaged. A jeep was sent to recover them and brought them back to the hospital in Peermade. Poor Shyni, she was so afraid that this would jinks the marriage. She was afraid that I would back out. I did everything I could to reassure her that I was not going to back out over this problem. But her fears would not go away. As I probed deeper, I found that she had greater worries. Shyni was deathly afraid of Mohammad and what he would do when he discovered that his bike was damaged. I did my best to soothe her worries; I told her that I would buy the bike from him if it came down to that. It seemed to help a little, but all of the family was on the worry train of thought so they were influencing her too.
The attorney required a cast for his broken leg, Gopal required stitches for the gash above his eye, but they would live. After the medical dramas were dealt with, we still had time to do the legal work. A funny thing happened when it came time for me to sign the legal papers…I got hot feet. Not cold feet, but hot feet, unusually hot feet. I figured it reflected just how much I wanted this marriage to take place.
Because of the drama with the bike and Gopal’s injuries, Shyni decided to go home with her sister and Gopal to help Gopal get further medical treatment. Gopal’s brother, who worked at a bike repair shop in the big city of Kottayam, came to get the bike and repair it.
Before Shyni put me on the bus to returned to my home-stay in Kumily she warned me not to tell Mohammad about the wedding and the bike. I objected saying, “What am I going to tell him about the bike? He will see that I don’t have it. He will ask questions. I can’t lie to him.”
Shyni was very worried. She told me, “You can’t tell Mohammad anything. He will stop our marriage if he finds out.”
My response was, “A corrupt person like that does not have the power to stop our marriage. We have much more power than he does. We already have the first part done. So what can he do?”
Shyni ended by saying, “You don’t know him like I do. You have no idea what he will do. He will make trouble, you can be sure of that.”
I got on the bus and headed “home”, I was not sure what to think. But I was certain I was not going to let this boy interfere with my life.
Stay tuned for – The Kidnapping and The Wedding!
But First Continue Reading - The Elephants of India
Love and Blessings,
Michael Skowronski
Author of Unforgettable: A Love and Spiritual Growth Story
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When I first began speaking to Shyni I was talking in broken English as I had become accustom to speaking with all of the locals that way. But when I asked Shyni a question she replied in very good English which surprised me. It turned out that Shyni spoke six different languages. After that we had an excellent conversation, Shyni was easy to talk to.
I arrived in India on January 8th, 2005. It had only been eight months since I was deported from Australia and I could not wait to get out of the United States again. After living in Australia for five years I knew there was more to see in the world and I did not want to be stuck in a country I had already lived in for 40 years. Been there done that.
How can anyone tell you who God is? How can a church, a religion, or any teacher tell you who or what God is? They can not!. Have they seen Him? Have they talked to Her? Of course not! Not in the physical sense that so many seem to think that God is in.
In response to a question that was asked on my blog 
