When Imran wed Reham

What did we learn from the wall-to-wall coverage?

So, after claiming (a tad disingenuously) that the rumours of his marriage were ‘greatly exaggerated’, Imran Khan finally bit the bullet and got married a second time round. His new begum, Reham Khan, is a lovely, lissome, long-haired beauty, cast in the same mould as his ex-wife, Jemima Khan (who has since announced that she intends to revert to her maiden name, Goldsmith, now that there is a new Mrs Khan on the scene).

But amid the wall-to-wall coverage in Pakistan, India and Britain (where Jemima – and hence Imran – is still a staple of the gossip pages), and the many, many jokes doing the rounds of social media, there are still some things that stood out in the Imran-weds-Reham coverage. 

So here, in no particular order of importance, is what we learnt:

• It doesn’t matter how old, or how important, a man is. When it comes to marriage, his immediate family will always have strong views – and won’t be afraid of airing them in front of the international media. So, even though Imran is now a venerable 62, his sisters still managed to throw a hissy fit about his marrying a woman they did not approve of. They had no idea about the wedding, they snorted, and in any case, they had no intention of attending. So, that’s one in your face, Reham. On the brighter side, things can only look up from here.
• As that old cliché goes, a second marriage represents a triumph of hope over experience. But sometimes experience plays a role in the choice of the new spouse as well. So, after years of trying to make his ‘multicultural’ marriage to Jemima work (though frankly, she had to do most of the work: adjusting to life in Pakistan, learning Urdu, adopting the salwar-kameez, bringing up two boys, and coping with the anti-Semitic attacks of the Urdu press) Imran has chosen a woman who he has much more in common with. Reham was born of Pakistani parents but educated mostly in Britain. She now lives in Pakistan and works in the media, but like Imran, feels at home in both cultures. Fingers crossed, everyone.
• No matter how hard we try and convince ourselves that a measure of gender neutrality exists in the media, the sad truth is that sexism is still alive and well in the newsroom. So, every story of the Khan nuptials takes great trouble to tell us that Reham is a divorced mother of three. Nobody really bothers to make the point that Imran is a divorced father of two. And then, there are some who helpfully point out that at 43, poor old Reham can’t hope to make any bonny babies with Imran (tsk, tsk).
• Age-gap relationships never bother us much when it comes to older man-younger woman combines. No surprises then that the 20-year age gap between Imran and Reham doesn’t merit much discussion (though you can be sure that if their ages were reversed, the commentary would be quite different). So, full marks to the Pakistani channel that showed visuals of their wedding overlaid with an audio track of that old Hindi film song, “Mai kya karoon Ram, mujhe budha mil gaya”. Way to land a blow for gender equality!
• No matter how good-looking the man, he always looks spectacularly silly in his wedding finery. And Imran – who has broken a million hearts in his time, but is now beginning to look like that wrinkly uncle who scowls bad-temperedly in every family photograph – is no exception to the rule. Looking ill-at-ease in a shimmering gold sherwani, paired rather ludicrously with what looked like a platform-heeled sandals, Imran was less Lion (or Loin, as they fondly call him) of Punjab and more Rabbit Caught in the Headlights.
• Ah, now Reham, on the other hand: she looked simply spectacular. But then, we all know that weddings are essentially about the dulhan. And boy, did she make the perfect bride! All demurely wrapped-up in white and gold, with just a splash of red brocade, she looked radiant and oh-so-in-love, flashing a smile of sheer happiness (never mind the scowling dulha, glowering by her side).
• But no matter how old and wrinkly the man, and how radiant and beautiful the bride, he is always the Big Catch and she is the Lucky One who managed to land him. We saw this during the George Clooney-Amal Alamuddin nuptials. And now much the same sort of stuff is being recycled for the Imran-Reham pairing. How did she get so lucky? Surely, he deserves better? How did she manage to trap him? Why did give up his long-time bachelor (well, okay, divorcee) status for her? But if you ask me, the only people who got it right were those who captioned the Khans’ wedding picture: “Former BBC newscaster marries Taliban sympathizer.” Score!
But never mind the jokesters and the naysayers. What’s not to love about two people in love? And two people brave enough to take another chance on marital bliss? So, Imran and Reham Khan, many congratulations. And may you live happily ever after…

Lovin' is easy...

Love may be a universal emotion; but all of us express it differently

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” That’s how Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s famous sonnet begins. It goes on: “I love thee to the depth and breadth and height / My soul can reach…I love thee freely, as men strive for right. / I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.”

It’s a beautiful poem (you really should read it in its entirety if you haven’t already) that sends a shiver up my spine every time I revisit it. Not least because love is such a universal emotion that it unites us all. And yet, all of us express it in so many different ways. We may not be able to articulate our feelings with the felicity that Barrett Browning manages so effortlessly. But in our own bumbling, mumbling way, we express the love we feel for family and friends every day of our lives.

We all know of mothers – and increasingly, fathers – who express their love through food. They find the greatest pleasure in feeding their children. They coax them to eat when they are infants, each mouthful an accomplishment, every clean plate a personal triumph. They harangue them to finish their greens and go easy on junk food as they grow into stroppy teenagers. They stock up on their favourite foods when they come back from college. And even after they have grown up and have kids of their own, the fattening of the prodigal daughter or son never ceases. And thus, the cycle goes.

At the other end of the parental spectrum are the proponents of what they like to call ‘tough love’. Their love is expressed through the exercise of discipline: get up on time, get your homework done, get better grades, get a good job, get it together. Those at the receiving end may find these constant exhortations annoying – and who can blame them for that? – but there is no denying that they come from a place of love. These are the actions of people who want good things for you; even if their way of ensuring that is less than endearing.

When it comes to romantic love, the world is divided into two categories. In the first are those who go in for the big romantic gesture. They shower their loved ones with flowers, extravagant presents, exotic holidays, and the like. These are the people who spend weeks thinking up the best way to propose marriage, splash enormous amounts on money on getting the perfect ring, and then take months to plan their over-the-top weddings.

Yes, George Clooney, I am looking at you. The erstwhile ‘committed bachelor’ who organized a ‘dream wedding’ for his lady love, human rights barrister Amal Alamuddin, in the impossibly romantic location of Venice, because they had first met in Italy. The four-day wedding extravaganza, with A-listers flying in from all over the world, cost between 10 to 15 million dollars (depending on who’s counting). And that’s not accounting for the 750,000 dollars that George paid for Amal’s engagement ring, a seven carat emerald cut diamond, or the cost of the many couture outfits the bride and groom wore every day.

So, that’s George Clooney for you. On the other hand, there are those who just pitch up at the wedding registrar’s office, say their vows, exchange their rings, and save their money for the honeymoon of their dreams, or even more practically, a deposit on a house. That’s not to say that these couples are any less in love than George and the luminous Amal. It’s just that their love is expressed in a different way: in spending quality time with one another, buying a house in which they can build their life together, creating a home they can grow old in. For them, the romance lies not in the wedding but in the marriage.

These are the people who specialize in showing their love for others in practical, everyday ways. We all have friends like these (at least, I hope you do!). They are the ones who show up unannounced to accompany you for that MRI you have been so dreading. They remember which colours/designers/authors/singers you like when it comes to buying your birthday presents. They send you fruit rather than flowers when you are recovering from an illness. They will talk to you for hours on end if they feel you are feeling low. They will take you out for lunch, dinner, a movie, or even a walk, if they sense you need cheering up. In fact, their mere presence in your life is chicken soup for your soul (and they will send some over for good measure when you have a cold).

Speaking for myself, I must confess I am not the one for extravagant gestures. For me, the best measure of love is to share the things I love with the people I love. It could be a book that I treasure, a family recipe, a movie that moved me, or a comedy show that reduced me to tears. And it is those kind of gestures that smack of true love as far as I am concerned. (Though that’s not to say I would turn up nose up at an emerald-cut diamond!)

But no matter how it is expressed, we should all be grateful for the love we have in our lives. So, as the festive season begins, let’s all hear it for love. Express it every day in ways both big and small. Keep yourself open to it in whatever form and shape it may come. And sing along with Bill Nighy, “So if you really love me, Come on and let it show…”

She ain't heavy...

The only way to create a sisterhood is by becoming a good sister to other women

It is tempting to dismiss that old adage about women being each other’s worst enemies as a cliché. It is easy to see it as the kind of sexist claptrap that gets tossed around to give feminism and feminists a bad name. But take a good look around you? Do you really see a supportive sisterhood at work? Or do you see snarkiness, bitchiness, rivalry, and plain old spite? If you are among the lucky ones, you will experience a mix of both. But speaking for myself, I must confess that I see much more of the latter. 

Let’s conduct a little experiment this Sunday. Trawl the Internet and list the first ten stories you find that body-shame, slut-shame or fat-shame women. If nine of these ten stories don’t have a woman’s name on the byline, I will eat my own ‘spare tire’. 

For some reason, women seem to take particular pleasure in dissing their own sex. She has fat legs. She shows too much cleavage. She is a slut. She has a muffin top. She slept her way to the top. She has too much cellulite. She is a bad mother. She hates kids because she can’t have any of her own. She is old. She is ugly. It’s all dressed up in pretty words, and sometimes with faux concern, but that’s what it all boils down to.

And then, of course, there are the double standards. George Clooney is the most eligible bachelor at 53. Amal Alammudin, that undeserving wretch of a barrister at law, is lucky to have snared him (how on earth did she manage that?). Jennifer Aniston, at 45, is a washed-up old hag who has been reduced to dating B-list stars like Vince Vaughan and Justin Theroux after she was divorced by Brad Pitt. And do you think the poor thing will ever have a baby? (With those shriveled up ovaries? Are you kidding?)

And that’s just the media. But in real life, too, the ones taking the most pleasure in this sort of stuff will be other women. They will be tut-tutting in fake sympathy when a friend gets dumped by her boyfriend (“Poor thing! I never did think he would marry her!). They will be the ones going nudge-nudge, wink-wink when a colleague gets promoted (“Didn’t I tell you she was sleeping with the boss!”) And they are the ones who will make you feel bad about your body (“Wow! Aren’t you brave to wear that!”)

Kelly Valen wrote about this in her book Twisted Sisterhood: Unravelling the Dark Legacy of Female Friendships, which created quite a stir when it came out in 2010. Valen conducted a survey among a random sampling of 3020 women from the ages of 15 to 86, and came up with some startling results: 84 per cent of the respondents felt they had “suffered terribly” at the hands of other women while 88 per cent had felt currents of “meanness and negativity emanating from other women”. But what gave me hope was this: 96 per cent of respondents said they wanted “something better for girls and women”.

But that ‘something better’ can only come if we better ourselves. The only way to create a genuine sisterhood is to be true sisters to one another. If you want to be one of that number, then here’s a ready primer of do’s and don’ts for you (feel free to write in with your own!):

• Don’t treat younger women in the workplace as a threat. If you can’t bring yourself to mentor them, fine. Just treat them the same as you would male co-workers. No special favours, but no snide comments either.
• Do try and create safe spaces where women can share their stories, lean on one another for support, and learn from each other’s experiences. This doesn’t have to be a formal forum; in fact, it could even be a virtual chatroom. But it helps immensely to have a platform where you can speak honestly with one another, even if you do so anonymously.
• Don’t be judgmental. What works for you may not necessarily be the best choice for someone else. Everyone’s life plan does not have to look like yours. Some women will choose to work; others will want to devote themselves to their families; and yet others will try and achieve a mix of both. Some will revel in being career women; others will find their purpose in being earth mothers. Every one of these choices is as valid as the other. Try and respect that.
• Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. If you feel the urge to say something bitchy, imagine it’s being said about you and the urge will pass. (And if it doesn’t, bite your tongue!)
• Don’t try to be ‘one of the boys’ if it involves the objectification of women colleagues at work. It may be tempting to laugh along, but remember it could (and probably will) be you at the receiving end one day – if it hasn’t happened already behind your back.
• And finally, do try and be kind. Pay a compliment. Praise a colleague. Offer practical help where needed. Be supportive with words if you can’t with deeds. Be there. Be a sister.