Simpleton whaaaaaat?

I was dragged along by the mother to meet yet another boy yesterday and it was in fact quite hilarious. I went not knowing anything about the fellow. Not even his name. This was arranged by the brother’s father-in-law, who is an ex policeman now engaged in the suitor business. The involvement of this man alone should have told something to the parents, but in their desperation to find me a man I suppose they had no choice but to overlook that factor. So the usual drill. Since we had just got back from a trip to the hills, the mother was anxious that I go to a salon and fix my sunburnt face. I wanted to get my hair done so I did just that. Shit hit the ceiling when she realized that I had done nothing about my face and that I had in fact gone on to do my hair and cut a fringe too while I was at it. The aversion she has when it comes to a fringe is in no way mild. She absolutely loses it. She in fact came on to me with a scissor threatening to cut it all off. It was hard not to laugh. But it was no longer funny when she slapped my sister in frustration. Anyway she continued yelling at me for around 45 minutes, apparently now my face looks like a ´sack of rice´. Anyway so the usual pre proposal meet up drill followed. I had to get an earful of her mouthful until I went off to put some home-made face mask concoction of a sort, an instant mix for ´fair and beautiful skin´. Followed by the hoarding of gold jewellery and ‘not enough powder put some more!’, ‘put more eye liner’ , ‘where is the lipstick can’t even see´. Then the aunt gives me lessons on how to talk like I’m interested etc. We finally get into the vehicle to get to the agreed venue. After about fifteen mins of waiting the dude and Co arrive. I won’t go into detail but its a total mismatch, to say we are worlds apart is the nicest way I can put it. So we take our seats, males on one table and females on another. Awkward conversation follows. I take my phone out to see a text from dad ‘just be nice its okay even I don’t like’. Really? So anyway after some polite conversation the meeting ended we got back into our vehicle and wham that’s when the bomb went off. Mother blames dad saying it was all his fault for not going and checking on the dude properly and how he can’t even get that right to which he goes on about how if something goes wrong it’s always him, but if the boy was good the situation would be different. Sigh he is clearly on point. After about seven minutes of arguing between themselves dad turns it all on me, ‘why did you say no even without looking?’. Me: Because I don’t really have to talk to figure things out. What you’ll figured out after talking, I was able to figure out just by looking. Dad: What so now you’re God? Me: Yeah i’m almost there. Dad: Stop judging on appearance! Me: Yeah but we both arrived at the same conclusion…. Mother takes a different turn, ‘you rejected all the good proposals one after the other big, now very good when these goday ones (simpleton) (gee mother you shouldn’t be saying that) come up. Very good. All your fault’. Me: Yes as you can see I’m devastated. Then followed another harangue of how I’m influenced by the wrong people and that I should be stopped from going to work and that it is because I have the means that I do everything as I please “like cut a fringe”. Sigh the hilarity. Then the dad raises the possibility of me playing for the other team at which the mother glares daggers at him and goes ‘She has some bloody jinn (spirit) in her noh, do something about that first!’ This was followed by reverting back to “dude unfortunate” ( and why I don’t like him and that if “fat” is my problem how that could be fixed by directing him to a gym. The audacity! To tell them that “fat” isnt my problem but the “crazy manhunt” is would be next to impossible cause I’m telling you, I sure have tried!


Holy or Unholy

The family who by now are tremendously worried about my unmarried state and my general disposition towards everything they consider right and sacred has as of recent paused seeking directly from the divine and has resorted to seek help from those with knowledge of the dark arts(?) to figure out what the problem is. Now isn’t that yet another level?

So apart from the usual “she doesn’t pray enough”, “she is faithless”, “lots of evil eye”, there were some interesting revelations too…

Revelation #1

A girl from a “a particular faith” has done something to me (fed something charmed?) as a result of which I am not interested in getting married. What absolute bullocks. There is in fact one particular guy who I’d marry this very instant if ONLY I COULD. Haha. No big fat Greek Wedding, no fancy dos, no nothing just plain and simple seal on the deal.

Revelation #2

Everytime I come home I’m sick?! Well there is a degree of truth to this. But I would discount it owing to the dust at my place as a result of construction work carried out in and around the neighbourhood. I’m sick at work too. For crying out loud,  I’M ALLERGIC TO DUST. HACHOO! But how on earth would these fellows know that considering the fact that they haven’t seen me. I suggested google search to the mother, but a google search of me wouldn’t reveal all these. Apparently they don’t even know my name. Heh

Revelation #3

This is regarding my brother. Apparently girls from that “particular faith” try ever so hard to entice him. Well I don’t know why the special focus is on that particular faith, given that the brother is quite the charmer and girls from all and sundry have the hots for him. I suppose guys do too. Such bullocks. Is there some sort of collective conspiracy against girls of this particular faith by people engaged in this practice, revelation #1 and revelation #2 came from two sources at two different instances. How could two different people come up with the same random thing?

Revelation #4

There are spirits wandering about our house. DUDE.  What the hell. According to the mother, she has on a number of occasions seen shadows passing around the house. She hears doors opening and footsteps and whatnot. Neither I nor my sister have ever witnessed or experienced anything of the sort. However, there is a particular window in my room which is left open with no explanation whatsoever. Apart from this nothing whatsoever.

On the other hand, tenants downstairs happened to mention to the father that he too sees these footsteps and shadows and whatnot. Not just him but his wife and kids too. According to my sister, “that could just be their CATS”. Fair enough. He also mentioned that ever since he moved here (nearly 2-3 years) they too have been falling sick quite often. Dust? It’s all in your head, perhaps? According to these fellows these spirits are souls of dead people. Yikes. Haha. THANKS TO revelation #4 we are never allowed to stay at home ALONE. On the occasions I’m not home, the mother actually plonks herself in with my sister and sleeps there too. The absolute horror!

I’d like to know how these fellows come up with all these random cockamamie stories. I’m also wondering why and how these jokers failed to mention one big truth about me? I’m not complaining though, not in the least. Well I’d also like to maybe throw a brick or two at them for mentioning the spirits because henceforth, everywhere the mother goes, us babies will be compelled to go. Bleh! But the best thing is, atleast for 1 ½ days the mother wont bring up a random boy and try to plonk him in my face!!!! YAY.

The Expert

The brother is currently in the country, resting from a knee surgery to replace a torn ligament. Now this injury dates to an incident where he jumped off a relatively high structure whilst in school just to prove that he can. Of course he can. He is still alive. And the rest of us are busy.

Well this brother of mine, currently resting from the surgery, despite being younger than me is already married, his wife expecting a baby, no sooner the wedding. Well maybe due to his marital status, his impending fatherhood or some other similar logic my brain can’t quite fathom, he has been elevated to a status of authority. He is now an expert on women’s affairs. He gets to bitch about my way of life, whether my sister should be allowed to take-part in extra school activities, whether she should be allowed to meet her friends beyond a certain hour, he gets to sit in on important family discussions and his ‘valuable input’ is taken into consideration, which generally borders on the likes of she shouldn’t be doing this, she shouldn’t be doing that. Tosh.

However, we get to contribute to his life too. For instance, he cannot buy a shirt or a shoe by himself. Not even the counsel of his wife suffices. So yesterday, I tagged along with the two of them, along with my other little brother and the aunt to pick shirts and shoes for him. So I and my little brother would walk around picking shirts for him to try on. Then we’d appraise it while he puts them on and then pays for it. Same with the shoes. We were stuck for nearly an hour trying to pick shoes for the poor guy. He put on a pair and turned to his wife, she responded with an “I don’t know”. I’m thinking a simple yes or no would do. Surely, one would have an opinion.

Next we had to pick shoes for her. We covered around four shoe shops all in which she walked around like she was in a trance while we did the picking. “Do you like this?” “this?” “how about this?” I could tell even the aunt who is usually pretty tolerant was pissed. Well weirdly though when it comes to food, she can be specific. She wanted ribbon cake yesterday. The previous shopping expedition she wanted samosas. Yay. She is showing promise yeah?

Couple of days back we had to take them shopping for baby stuff. Cots, cot sheets, blankets etc. We nearly got killed (slight exaggeration maybe) when the brother decided to light some dynamite like object INSIDE THE CAR WITH THE SHUTTERS UP. It lit up emitting a crazy red flame, smell and hissing noise and he tries blowing on it to put out the damn thing. He continued with his frantic blowing until the aunt goes “throw it out of the window!”  I couldn’t help but think, he is going to have a baby….

Anyway at the babyshop when the wife consults him about a particular cot, he shrugs, “I don’t know”. Its almost as if the only thing these two can manage by themselves is to get the baby-making process set and going whilst everything else related and otherwise has to be decided by the rest of the world. And somehow he is more an expert on how we should live our lives than we could possibly ever be.

I worry about their future child, well children because I’m sure an army is to follow. Him with his care-free attitude, and she with women are nothing more than chattel disposition I have a feeling that we will have to play more of a role than a casual bystander in ensuring first the ‘continuity of their lives’ and then everything related. Joy! Oh but while I do it, I sure do have to put a shawl on!

You can take a horse to water..

I don’t know why I don’t have this crazy obsession to get married. WHY OH WHY! Life would have been so much less complicated for me if I did.

It was only last week that I came upon some news that a GOOD friend of mine who pretty much broke every social convention out there had got engaged to his cousin. This particular news sent shock waves of revulsion throughout my entire body. Haha. For crying out loud he was my back up plan, say by 90 if I wasn’t married, I was going to marry him. Okay jokes apart, that is really gross.

Okay back to my business, things are going from bad to worse for me. Two weeks from now I might have to travel out of town on work, a legal clinic to be precise and I shudder to think of the threats and abuse that is going to roll out of the mother’s tongue when she hears about it. I can’t even. Mind you this is at 26 and being a fully-fledged lawyer.

What kind of abnormal society are we living in, that people who ditch school to get married receive more social acceptance than people who make a name for themselves? Even those who are educated are pretty much educated for the wrong reasons. Boys are educated to find employment, girls are educated as good dowry. Sadly, most girls are just fine with this. They just go with the flow.

When the time comes for marriage things get super crazy. Or so I feel. The sheer indignity of it is beyond anything words can express. The desktop of the mother’s computer has several pictures of me in several angles to be sent along with a little bio to every TD&H even marginally interested. I have been taken to a number of studios to have my pictures taken, it only stopped the last time I bawled my brains out in front of a gob-smacked photographer who was directing me to act all demure. Ew. That was the last professional attempt although several home based, efforts were made by family. I sulk and put up. The indignity of having your details (Picture included) sent across the country AND globe via email to someone’s someone who might have a nephew or friends son somewhere. Having your details advertised in the newspapers quite often and the resultant phone calls that come in seeking further details. Having random relatives talk about you/gaze at you with pity at random gatherings and then try to appease you by saying “time has to come”, “pray to God”, like you are utterly devastated or fucknot.

The later it gets, the more desperate the family becomes. Yesterday I received a call from the mother screaming blue murder at me asking me to take down my whatsapp display picture. For crying out loud the picture was of me, grinning away like an idiot. BLEH.

It has come to a point where I no longer have any control over my life (albeit what I do on the sly) whether it is about cutting my hair, the clothes I wear, the friends I associate, work, what I post on social media, you name it! What people need to realize, in my context, is that you can take a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. Heh.

Id understand to a certain degree if all this came from people from my grandparents era, given that they had near perfect marriages, but coming from people who pretty much have sucky marriages is a whole new level of crazy. Anywayyyyyyy. LIFE. I guess this is the price you pay for being the odd one out.