Aargh!
As most unmarried persons will agree, this must be one of the most irritating questions ever created.
It crops up, without fail, during Christmas, New Year and other festivals when relatives gather. It is a question which makes us want to pack our bags and head for Bali when these holidays arrive.
Now, we know that those who ask this question -- more often than not they are married people -- mean well. They have teasted the joys of marriage and wish that we too can join the club.
It is also highly likely that they do not realise how offensive such a question is, and how defensive it makes us.
I mean, how does a person not on the verge of tying the knot reply?
We could say: "No, i'm not getting married", but the issue will not stop there. As sure as COE prices will rise, this next question will follow: "Why not?"
We could ignore this with a withering smile. But chances are it will be lost on the questioner. We will then be forced to come up with another reply.
This could be, one: "I don't have a boyfriend", or two, 'I have a boyfriend but we are not ready to settle down".
Either way, singles are made to feel lousy. one, that we are too ugly or too unlucky to find a partner; two, that we are wasting our time in not seizing the opportunity to get married, and that this chance might be lost forever.
In other words, we can only conclude that something is not quite right with our lives.
There is a stigma attached to being unmarried, and sorry stereotypes of singles abound.
For example, who is unaware of that creature of pity in large households: The Single Aunt?
As stereotypes have it, she is that thin, dry, sexless woman in glasses and a cardigan. She has queer habits, dotes on her nieces and nephews -- only to have them think her irrelevant when they grow up -- and shoulders the responsibiolity of looking after her ailing parents.
This blot on singlehood is neither new nor peculiar to Singapore. english literature, for instance, from Jane Austen in the early 19th century to today's Anita Brookner, abounds with women fighting tooth and nail to avoid the doom of becoming an old maid.
The media also promotes the belief that single people have little place in society.
Advertisements on family life, for instance, depict the family set-up as one comprising parents, children and maybe grandparents. There is no room for the unmarried aunt or uncle.
The stain of singlehood applies more to women than men, probably because a woman's shelf-life, as far as attractiveness is concerned, is shorter. After all, women have crow's feet while men have laughter lines.
But single men are not immune to being irritated by queries of their marital status, I found out.
A year back, i had lunch with a stockbroker acquaintance in his early 40s. A man generally regarded as being eminently eligible, he was also someone all too aware of the irony in Austen's observation that "a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife".
Anyway, talk flitted to a mutual friend who was on the wrong side of 40 and still a bachelor, though no longer swinging.
"Isn't it strange he's still single?" I asked.
My companion looked up from his wanton noodles. "Why is it strange?" he asked in a nettled tone.
"Well," I said, "he's nearly 50. Shouldn't he be married?"
The stockbroker threw me a withering look, which made me realise that even I can fall into the silly trap of assuming people must get married.
Being single can be a lot of fun.
We can do as we please with our money, take off to Nepal or New York whenever the fancy strikes us and, on Sundays, lounge around the whole day in our pajamas without caring how terrible we look.
But singlehood can also be very lonely.
It is just not very pleasant, for example, attending formal dinners alone. And when Christmas and New Year come round, our minds swirl in a slight panic -- who on earth am I going to spend the evening with? Will I be stuck at home to welcome the carollers?
Sometimes, people who are single console themselves with the thought of rising divorce figures. Statisticians tell us that the divorce rate for men jumped from 4.8 per 1,000 in 1983 to 6.1 last year. The rate for women rose from 4.8 to 6.2 during the same period.
Hard numbers aside, anecdotal evidence suggests that commitment to marriage is not a guaranteed thing.
I know of a woman who, after less than five years of marriage, announced she needed "space". Her husband was shattered -- but not for long. They are now divorced. She has a new boyfriend, he has remarried. Both are not even 33.
But high divorce rates are no reason to be wary of marriage. In fact, my guess is that many singles want to get hitched if they can find the right partner. The problem is finding the right one.
How do people decide who that is?
One married colleague said his wife was someone he could bear waking up to for the rest of his life. Another colleague, unmarried, thinks the acid test would be if he would not bat an eyelid if she messes up his designer apartment.
A friend with a long-time boyfriend said she was not irritated by him even if they had to spend 24 hours together.
But what if one never finds that person? Should we compromise our standards so that we can join the secure ranks of the married?
I think not. Nothing can be more of a burden than being married to someone you have qualms about.
And if one never finds that right one, well, so be it.
As I once read in a book of quotations: "being an old maid is like death by drowning -- a really delightful sensation after you cease to struggle".
Married people can also help make the lives of singles bearable -- please, refrain from asking that question.