Around five years ago, a close friend was diagnosed with clinical depression. He was around the same age as the rest of us in our friends circle, and while many among us were married, he wasn’t. His parents, in their wisdom, concluded that his depression was a consequence of his being single, and decided to marry him off. Matrimonial agencies were recruited to find the best match, and sure enough, in a few weeks, a girl was chosen and the wedding date finalised.

Meanwhile, the friend had begun consulting a psychiatrist and was in the early stage of counselling and anti-depressants when the wedding took place. Two days after the wedding and the night before the couple was to leave for their honeymoon, the family sat down for dinner. There was some joking around and notes were still being exchanged on the way the wedding was conducted. The friend was just about getting familiar with his life partner.