My mother intercepted me before I could even shuffle my way to the bathroom at 6:30 this morning.
"Sabila, you have to listen to this message!" she nearly squealed, dragging me into her bedroom.
Four very long messages later, I heard a man say "Hallo? Hallo?" before the line was disconnected.
Message six was some muffled talking and a "Hallo?" from the same man.
By message seven, the man seemed to have figured out how his/my phone worked and left the following message:
"Hallo. My name is (I don't remember his name) from Pakistan. My number is (insert number with many, many digits here). I have MBA. I come to Amrika. (there was very brief muffled conversation in the background before he came back on the phone). I call for the rishta (remember non-desi readers, a rishta is an Urdu word for wedding proposal) for the Sabila. Ishrat (one of my older cousins in Pakistan) talk about you. Thank you."
"What (the hell) was that all about?" I asked, not using the word hell, even though I wanted to.
"I told your cousins in Pakistan to look for a boy for you. That must have been one of them. I think we should explore this, Sabila."
I almost laughed. "You're serious?" I asked.
"Well, yes."
"Amma, the boy can't even speak English. That's the bloody best they could come up with?"
"He is an MBA."
"Who can't speak English."
At this point, my father, who's always managed to maintain a rational, Mr. Bennett-like distance from all of this nonsense, walked into the room.
"There's no harm in looking into this," he said.
I paused and wondered what had become of my intelligent, liberal, open-minded father.
"But he can't speak English. I don't even know who he is. He could be a murdering rapist fro all we know."
My parents stared at me looking like I'd rejected them.
"Ugh. It's too early for rishta talk," I said, leaving their room.
"We can't keep passing up one rishta after another," amma called after me as I headed to the bathroom.
"Yes, you will regret it soon," abu added.
Clearly, my folks have no faith in my romantic skills.
Well...I don't really have any faith in my skills either, but, guys, HIS ENGLISH WAS AWFUL! And he, a stranger, essentially proposed to me from a differents continent on my answering machine! I don't know whether I should be laughing or crying. Why these random things happen to me is beyond my knowledge.
Thankfully, the 'rents haven't brought up the proposal again. I'm guessing that they've realized the error of their ways.
7 comments:
Ajax believe me, I have been forced to spend a good part of my life trying to vanquish (or at least fend off) femme-nazi-bots from my own path. However, this post has absolutely nothing to do with that unholy army of testosterone burning ball-busters, or any hypocrisy lying in the accursed ranks therein.
Sabila's post is simply HILARIOUS. It is not that a FOB shouldn't dare to contact an American for a proposal. However, the culprit in question has clearly never met her, isn’t even able to communicate with her in her (primary) language properly, and proposed (a quite serious gesture in theory) over an ANSWERING MACHINE! Are you kidding me? Come on! That is really funny stuff (God bless the poor guy though)! Next time I prepare to make an intercontinental proposal to someone that I have never met, I will be sure to at least brush up on my language skills; God forbid I should be ill-fated enough to actually get the lucky girl on the phone so that I then have to convey the gravitas of my intentions (otherwise inherently filtered by the answering machine) through a real conversation...
Please don’t be offended by my take on the extreme comedy in all of this. I have in fact taken a break from battling both of my arch-nemeses - desi dudes and estro-bots of all races (or should I say automations), and as I don't intend to (re)take up arms anytime soon, I sincerely hope I have not given either camp cause for another duel.
Thanks for the laughs, irony, and the education, Sabila!
-M
I heart all of you guys too and appreciate the fact that you're interested enough to comment.
Thanks for having an opinion ajax.
And, M, good looking out, man.
vaat if he is to be reading the blog of the sabila? he vill be wery much hurt.
oh, and move aside batman. ajax1979 is my new hero.
Hey, your reaction was quite natural! YET I simply can't comment anything further.... n you know the REASON behind it ;). Ofcourse I'm desi (one who's aware of his limitations :o). AND I just dont want to start a family warfare here :D.
Aims.
It wasn't that he had guts. I don't think he knew any better. Poor guy.
I'm sure he'll make some girl happy.
You know you never know what you might have to accept later in life. We can't help who we are or arent attracted to. Im not saying they have to be butt ugly, but there is such a thing as holding out for someone who isnt superficial and flaky, or wishy-washy. Beauty fades and whats left is what you have to deal with and talk to for the rest of your life. If you can connect on another level or several levels, thats the best case scenario.
the hardest thing is that silent stare from your parents...you know the gut-wrenching one... the one that makes you welcome 1000 lashings instead of having to see it. Its saddness. Unspoken but yet you hear it. Its them thinking they have failed as parents.
i shudder..
but if we're not ready, we're not ready. what are we supposed to do?? why does this desi world put so much emphasis on marriage?? it'll happen... eventually. And I guarantee you it won't be all that it was cracked up to be!
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