Since when did being a bachelor become an oddity? This is the question I ask myself on my flight to Agra, India, where I’ve been invited to Singles’ Study. Humans are too obsessed with conformity, if you ask me. We’ve been conditioned to believe that everything has to happen a certain way, otherwise we don’t ‘fit’ in.

I remember a story on social media about a woman who caught a lot of flak for saying she didn’t want to have children of her own. Selfish, inconsiderate, lazy, unmannered… these were some of the criticisms levelled at the poor soul.

She had to get back on the waves and explain her decision. I didn’t care much for her explanation, simply because I didn’t see the point of one. Why should anyone have to explain her choices to the masses? Catch me on a good day and I’ll give you several examples of men and women who shouldn’t have become mothers and fathers.

I found myself in a similar predicament this morning. After meeting a woman called Anika in Mumbai, I had the pleasure of meeting her clueless but well-meaning mother. She desperately wants her only daughter to get married and she seems willing to ship her off to the first willing candidate.

“You tick all the boxes,” she had told me. “You’re a successful doctor and a very polite man. But most importantly, Ani seems to like you.”

You should’ve seen the look on the poor woman’s face when I told her I have sworn to be a bachelor for life. It was a mix of disbelief and a splash of disdain.

“You treat people so they can have a future,” she said, “but you don’t care about your own?”

I knew it was all coming from a good place in her heart but it was no different from all the social media judges who ganged up on the woman who announced a desire to remain childless. She was following the dictates of society. Anika, on the other hand, was determined to break every norm ever put in place.

“You look surprised,” she told me last night when she snuck into their guest room, where I was accommodated.

“What are you doing here?” I said, clutching the bedsheet around me like a shy teenager. “You told me, in no uncertain terms, that nothing will happen between us.”

She dropped her bathrobe to expose a gorgeous body outlined by a black silk negligée. “That’s before I knew you were a true perpetual bachelor.”

As she sat on the bed, I held out a hand. “Wait. Are you only doing this to stick it to your mother because she wants to marry you off?”

“My mother knows I’m here.”

Now I’m scared to bits. “You can’t be serious.”

“It gives her hope. It’s the only reason I date guys for any period of time. It’s okay. Trust me.”

I could tell you that my morals saved me from abasing the poor woman’s hospitality, but I’d be lying. When Anika’s negligée came off, my senses went out the door. But the following morning, I was so ashamed of my deeds that I escaped as soon as I could. Fortunately, Anika was off to work by then and I didn’t have to face her.

Or so I thought.

When I meet the other participants of the study at Dr Bhimrao Ambedkar University in Agra, Anika is one of them.

“You can’t be serious!” I say, surely looking as surprised as I sound.

“Why, Tom?” She flashes a defiant smile. “You think only men can decide to be bachelors for life?”