Life is Stranger Than Fiction.

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Twice a week, a very kind gentleman comes by with a nifty vacuum cleaner strapped to his back, to spruce up the floors. I say nifty because it looks more like a jet-pack or something a lot more fun than a mere appliance. Anyway, when he strolls in with his trademark, “Hell-oooooo!”, I know it is time to stand up and get out of his way. I usually just move to the other side of my desk and prepare myself for a minute or two of nothingness, but apparently, today will be…something. I hear a familiar voice, but I can’t make out the words above the din of the machine.

I turn around to see who is speaking to me. It is the one Pakistani man I work with, an uber-sweet coworker who likes to make halwa to bring to work, which he then guilts me in to eating—not the first portion, mind you; that goes to our other, “grown-up” coworkers. Oh, no—he comes by towards the end of mithai-madness and always authoritatively says, as he spoons at least three servings on to a paper plate he has helpfully brought with him, “I make you halwa. Eat.”

When I protest meekly, saying, “It’s too much!”, because I don’t want to waste food, he gives me the exact same look I get at home, from my Mom at the end of dinner.

“It’s so little. Why you make me put back in dish? If dish is empty, I can wash. Finish it. Be helpful. So I can wash. I not have all day.”

So, much in the same endearing, parental way he force-feeds me food which my tummy has no room for, he often comes by to “check on” me, the youngest brown member of the team (nine desis work here, total). To see, as he inimitably pronounces it, “how you arrrr DEW-wing!” When I moved away from my desk to facilitate vacuuming, he saw an opportunity and approached.

“Hallo En-ah!”

“Hi…Mm-…hi” I stammered, just barely resisting the urge to call him Uncle. I can’t bring myself to call him by his first name, which is Mohammad, so I just…well, call him nothing. Who cares if it’s a work environment? The man guilts and keeps tabs on me. Being on a first-name basis ain’t happenin’.

“How is your Mum? She in Kelly-for-nya? Or she visit home, maybe?”

I have always loved that: home. My heart immediately softens. No matter how many decades my late father lived in this country (three, if we’re counting), despite the American flag planted dramatically in our front yard, when he wasn’t communicating mindfully, he always said that about Kerala, too. Home.

“No, she is in California. She is well, thank you for asking.”“Good. Good. When you last talk to her?”

“Yesterday, actually.”

“What she say?”

“Oh, the usual…ranting about Sarah Palin, asking if I was playing tennis, inquiring about when she’d be getting some grandchildren.”

Zomg. Did I? I did. I so just went there. Damnit! THIS conversation was about to get…interesting.

Mohammad’s eyes lit up, behind tortoiseshell glasses. He clapped his hands together gleefully, and leaned in…

“Acha! You have to get married, fust! No baby before the shaadi, okay?”

“Yeah, she’s assuming that’s already happened. Wouldn’t be having kids until AFTER marriage, you see…”

He cackled, “Oh, that is funny! She makes good point.”

“She’s efficient like that…why ask two questions when you can pose one, which assumes the other-“

“Well? What you say?”

“Uh…”

“Let me see…who is this picture?”

He leans over the partition we are standing next to, and looks at the frame on my desk.

“Is this? Nooooo. This is not…same boy? I told you was not good for you? Last year?”

“No, it’s not the same boy.”

He beheld me joyfully.

“You ARE a good girl! You listened to me, because you know I know best!”

“Oh…that’s actually not-”

“Doesn’t matter. He was not a good match for you. This, this one better. Very good. I am excited.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Beta, I KNOW. I just KNOW. These are things which you will not understand until you are older. Wiser. You no have a father, correct?” He looks at me, sadly and sincerely. I shake my head.

“It is a father’s duty to get his daughter married. That is our culture. If you no have father, then I should help you. That is the way it is.”

I stare at him, mutely. This is what people whisper about me when I’m at home, when I attend the rare Malayalee event. “You know, if her father were alive…she’d be m-“

“This boy is better. I like him.”

“Why?”

“Look at him! Such nice teeth. He come from good family, too, I guarantee it.”

“How do you know? His hairline? Tear ducts? What?” I smiled at Mohammad, mischievously. “He’s got nice skin, too,” I added, innocently.

He peered at the picture again.

“Yes. Much more fair than other one. But not too fair. But you are not fair either. So it is good.” He looks at me quickly, and immediately adds, “don’ worry, though. You are sanwla. (sp?)”

“Okay.”

“He match you. Similar color is good. Smile is good. You two look right together. Much better match. I can tell.” He head-waggles, for emphasis.

“And he’s tall,” I added, faux-dreamily.

“How tall!”

“6’1?”

“Veddy good. You not too short. Good. What his parents do?”

I pause, because I tell myself this shouldn’t matter, and yet…“They are doctors.”

“Oho! Very good. Prestigious. And he is doctor?”

“No.”

“Where he go to school? These things…important, you know? So I can calculate…”

Calculate?!

“He went to (good school).”

“Acha. Acha. Well, you should give good dowry.”

“WHAT?!”

“Oh yes. Not too much, because he is not doctor too, but you must.”

“For WHAT?”

“Well, you must…how to say…balance things out.”

“What am I balancing? Am I a tire?”

“You know, you are getting middle-age. Still! You are very, very pretty. You no look your age, but I am trying to help you…face the realities, so you are prepared.”

“You’re kidding me, right? No dowries. I would harm someone who asked for a dowry. Shit, he should be paying my Mom…you have no idea what level of shenanigans I tolerate. I dutifully go fetch him take-out, so he doesn’t have to miss a minute of the 49ers getting beat by the—“

“You make good wife, no doubt, because you good girl. I know. I know you. I see you every day.”

“Okay, I know you’re kidding. I’m sorry, I should have realized that—“

“Listen, beta. I no kid about your future.”

Speechless.

“I got all my nieces married. I have done this. You listen to me, you will be healthy, vealthy, vise. In this country, okay fine it is called vedding ‘gift’,” he says, using scare quotes. “Back home, it is dowry. Simple as that.”

“Oh…”

“One thing I tell you. You must be similar. You remind me of one niece…she married…but it…ah, rocky now, you know? Difficult. I not want that for you.”

“That’s nice-“

“You must understand. You must be on same level. Sure he go to good school but so what? Otherwise there is fight. Jealousy. If he not professional and you are professional, you fight.” He smashed his fists together, to punctuate his point.

“He’s-“

“If you think these things in advance, you plan. You know. Then smooth sailing. Marriage will last forever. You will see.”

“I believe you.”

“You trust me?”

“I trust that you only have my best interests-“

“You see, Enah…I can tell you this. Your mom even cannot tell you. It is okay. It is same way with my kids. But I can tell you these. She no see you every day. I see you. I know what you need to do. You good girl.” He shuffles paper I had just set down, on the partition, until they are aligned and stacked flawlessly.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I just want to see you get marry, have the children…you know, live your life.”

“Okay.”

“You going to get married?”

“Uh…if we…are on the same…level?”

“Good! Good. Make sure first, then no divorce later.”

“Yes.”

“You listen to me, I will help. I tell you only good things for you. Okay, En-ah. You work. I check on you later.”

98 thoughts on “Life is Stranger Than Fiction.”

  1. 49 · Dr AmNonymous said

    when are one of you capitalists going to set up an arranged marriage dating site for wee queerfolk? I would like to face these problems too – even though they suck.

    Dang it, Herr Doktor, you can’t expect the market to create all your problems! I doubt a gay midget arranged dating `could survive without government subsidies or at least non-profit status.

  2. Opal child, It’s not my joke. It’s someone else on this thread who I quoted when I said the joke was “Wrong, but so very funny”. Just wanted to give proper attribution as you know how that’s a problem.

    JJ also wants to say he’s not a Punjabi girl. Talk about your proper and not-so-proper attributes ; )I’m listening….

  3. he’s quite harmless and sweet. you probably shouldn’t let him get too intrusive. one gets enough of that from ones relatives.

  4. OMG!

    • No, it’s NOT an original joke, but adapted Bollywood stye
    • YES, I’m Punjabi
    • And, YES, I do poke & prod them for making me miserable for all those single years.

    For my jatts, “aagli vaar thodi ho gayee…hehehehe” That’s the spirit, with one little snarky, lop-sided smile.

  5. 42 · Harbeer said

    Incidentally, the NYT is now promoting arranged marriages.

    Harbeer, funny. Opal, I think I need to get away, maybe have a holiday, this is for you.

    Strange that the article you cite doesn’t reference the commonly held perception that a strong marriage has to deal with an equitable division of labor where binder cleans that winda?

    I keed, I keed.

  6. Another way out of these uncle/auntie situations is saying “Rabb Ne Banayian Jodiean“, with a sigh and a semi-tormented look upward. More instances than not, the auntie/uncle would relent thinking they were causing me some angst or pain and I’d walk off with them saying “He’s such a good munda, bachara”. The danger with this tactic is that with the truly caring auntie/uncle (who’s not trying to be a busybody or nosy), is that they will go out and try and find you someone instantly…and well, that’s definitely awkward, but not necessarily a bad result, depends on who they bring back ;). So either way it’s a win-win or at least a win-tie.

  7. “Look at him! Such nice teeth…”

    Certainly knows what he’s talking about ;).

    As for the rest, both M and you share an affection and indulgence for each other and neither of you seem to have a single malicious bone in your body–makes for a sweet and heartwarming read. Thanks for this.

    (At some point, if your discomfort about discussing these issues with him crosses the line, then i’ve found saying something like “it makes me really sad to talk about it” or “My mom doesn’t want me to get involved in these discussions” works beautifully, without offending.)

  8. societies which are socially stratified and enforce monogamy tend to have dowry.

    societies which are socially stratified and allow for polygyny for high status males tend to have bride price.

    why the difference? in the former high status males (who are the most powerful and unencumbered agents in these societies) are a fixed commodity with families who want to “offland” girls “biding” for their attention. in contrast, in a society where there is polygyny a high status male may have many, many, wives. so even modest women can “aspire” to being with a high status male if they are willing to be a younger/lesser wife. in these societies very wealthy males basically use their marginal income to acquire wives and produce a huge family which is both a source of status and also a private army.

    since islam is from the middle east where many societies have bride price that is how it started i think. i have heard religious muslims claim that bride price is the “islamic” thing to do, not dowry. but in south asia very few males are polygynous and the socio-cultural parameters of the arabian peninsula do not hold. ergo, there is a shift toward hindu status symbols because they’re more culturally intelligible. this is just like how some high status hindus started putting their wives into purdah as part of their “bidding war” with high status muslims who introduced the practice.

  9. you know what bugs me the most. when people are talking about a couple who is getting married, they always say that the girl is lucky. for example when billionaire lakshmi mittal’s daughter was getting married to an ordinary guy, someone i know said she was lucky to get him. obviously in this situation it’s the other way around.

  10. you know what bugs me the most. when people are talking about a couple who is getting married, they always say that the girl is lucky. for example when billionaire lakshmi mittal’s daughter was getting married to an ordinary guy, someone i know said she was lucky to get him. obviously in this situation it’s the other way around.

    Guys can ‘get lucky’ with a girl as well. But that refers to a different sort of relationship.

  11. I once told a beer-belly auntyji, that I just started my Shiv Somvar fast (for 16 Mondays) and check back in 17 weeks for a ring. She didn’t think it was as cute as it sounded in my head.

  12. I was once at a mallu party and this couple of uncles who up in no good walked up to me. They started badgering me with questions on when I will get married and how much dowry I will demand. Out of rash anger, I yanked down the one dude’s mundu and and punched him so hard, he even knocked over the other badgering uncle. I just got in one little fight and my mom got scared and said you’re moving in with your auntie and uncle in Bel-air. I whistled for a cab and when it came near the Licensplate said fresh and had a dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare. But I thought now forget it, yo home to bel-air. I pulled up to a house about seven or eight. And I yelled to the cabby yo, home smell you later. Looked at my kingdom I was finally there. To settle my throne as the prince of bel-air

  13. 56 · Jangali Janwar said

    Another way out of these uncle/auntie situations is saying “Rabb Ne Banayian Jodiean”, with a sigh and a semi-tormented look upward.

    I usually answer with a “jitthe/jadon sanjog likhe…” but I’ll have to keep yours in mind, too.

    I actually have little patience for these marriage-imperative conversations. Many of my relatives/parents’ friends seem to have nothing else to talk about, which just makes those rare individuals who are willing to engage (!) on other topics that much more lovable to me. That same old conversation gets really tedious and boring.

  14. “Look at him! Such nice teeth. He come from good family, too, I guarantee it.”

    Anna, is this guy a horse trader or something?

  16. Why is it that uncles and aunties always feel

    I just want to see you get marry, have the children…you know, live your life.

    . What about oh I don’t know-buying your own house, traveling the world, working in a job that you love, playing with neices and nephews or cats and dogs? Isn’t all that living your life? Who gets to define that anyways?? And to think it’s just that easy to find a nice boy…..

  17. just barely resisting the urge to call him Uncle. I can’t bring myself to call him by his first name, which is Mohammad, so I just…well, call him nothing

    Perhaps bhai saab would be a good way to address him. Could a Hindi-proficient mutineer comment?

  18. societies which are socially stratified and enforce monogamy tend to have dowry. societies which are socially stratified and allow for polygyny for high status males tend to have bride price.

    dude.. like, have some halva or something.

  19. 67 · as said

    Perhaps bhai saab would be a good way to address him. Could a Hindi-proficient mutineer comment?

    Actually, er ahem, ‘Chachaji’ would be more appropriate, especially since ANNA is already resisting the urge to call him ‘Uncle’! ‘Chachaji‘ conveys both affection and familiarity-with-respect; ‘bhai saab‘ is more distancing as a mode of address – usually reserved for someone you’ve just met, never been introduced to, and never expect to see again, but who you need to interact with just briefly.

  20. Interesting post, nice timing because I just got done with yet another long, painful talk with the folks (who are back in Kerala). Maybe my case is sort of special because my parents are pretty fundamentalist-type religious (“Settling down is the RIGHT christian thing to do!”). So then I have to remind them yet again, that I’m agnostic which really rubs them the wrong way (and of course, its NOT ok with them if I becamse a muslim or hindu. Besides, accd to them being christian is the only way you can be saved). They’ve gotten so desparate that they even asked me (in a roundabout way nevertheless) if I were gay – to which I asked, what if I said yes? The answer – they would fly down here and take me to a psychiatrist (“Do you have any gay friends? Promise us you wont become gay like them!”). Their retired life in Kerala is reduced to attending weddings every month, at which they end up deflecting questions about me. So my mother sadly talks about how she had to yet again, tell someone that I wasn’t settled down and didn’t know what to say in response to “Why?”.

    Anyone else in a similar situation? I can’t imagine how much worse it would’ve been if I had been female.

  22. West Coast Guy –

    Your story is my story – minus the extra religiousness. I am 34 not married and my parents have become extremely passive aggressive about it and it is really getting to me. I spent most of my Sunday night frustrated and in tears. Similarly, the Indian community i grew up in has lots of free time now with excessive wealth, so the basic crux of the conversations over the last decade have been about wedding/babies and who was underperforming (me).

    My parents ask me every week “are you talking to any boys? you need to focus on this, it is a priority” and every week I bite my tongue and say “i’m trying”. I could reason, argue, whine, but I have realized with them it is a generation gap and they are not likely to change. What bothers me is that all that I have accomplished feels like an “aside”, because they live for this “mythic” event. Let’s just say that my mom has accumulated my wedding china, favors, and saves every invitation in anticipation of the big day.

    Unfortunately I have no answers, am just frustrated at both not meeting a quality partner and the pressure that I feel mounting with every year. I feel your pain. The only thing I can do is keep my distance and try and tune it out…

    I would be so open to more suggestions…:)

  23. @Notchewey. Wow, thats really tough I’m sorry to hear that. I was sort of lucky in that my sister did the deed and did the whole kids thing so that certainly took some pressure off. But family and relatives have turned their attention to me – to my parents, the fact that they’re open to the notion of me marrying a nice, christian, mallu girl of my choice would be a gracious compromise on their part. My uncle and other relatives apparently yelled at my dad for “letting him do whatever he wants” since they should have married me off already.

    I’ve come to the point where I’ve almost (sadly) just washed my hands of the whole thing and am ready to resign myself to the fact that I’ll never be able to achieve an emotional closeness with my family where I could truly share myself with them. I’ve been dying to backpack thru kerala with friends, show them around my parents place and all that fun stuff. I haven’t dared step foot back, (and this might sound like exaggeration but I swear it isn’t) I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if my parents or my uncles tore up my passport just to keep me there.

    I’ve tagged my post with an email address, I’d love to hear from you if you’re facing a similar quandary and take the discussion offline

  24. 63 · Harbeer said

    I actually have little patience for these marriage-imperative conversations

    This is the key!. “He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent.” Generational revolt!!!! Find the good ones, like my uncle, who said “be kind, but stick to your guns.” And just lie to the rest or whatever suits you – you have agency!

    And I say this as someone who has, somehow, inexplicably, slipped into trying to set people up at weddings. You know what it was? I had to stay dry. And so there was nothing to do except talk to the girl next to me, and then one thing led to another, and all of a sudden I was Aunty f@#king Anonymous.

    Christ.

    In related news, gradually going mad…..

  25. @west coast guy

    Thank you so very much for your kind words and for the email address. Let’s talk offline..I have so much to say, and apparently the entire state is need of a therapist because I can’t even find one to return my screening calls 🙂

  26. And West Coast Guy and NotChewey lived happily ever after! With their proud and contended in-laws, of course!

    Anna is the only person around here who seem to have a real world impact, everyone else seems to be in the wannabe-AIPAC business!

  27. Anna : “I almost included “my take” or reaction, but I thought it would be more interesting to leave that undefined for now, for the sake of the potential conversation. I’ll chime in…at some point.”

    Well, we’re waiting.

  28. i’m in my early thirties and my brother is 30. my parents usually forget they’re supposed to marry us off and we all have a good time when we’re with each other. but it’s when my parents meet members of their community or when relatives call from india, that things get ugly and they remember that something is ‘wrong’. it’s the extreme pressure from relatives and community which drives parents to become cruel and wierd with their offspring. my parents used to be well liked and respected within their community and suddenly people stopped calling and talking to them at parties just because i’m not married. it’s extremely horrifying. luckily they have nice friends outside the community and they travel a lot but many others are not in their position.

  29. 78 · nia said

    .. it’s the extreme pressure from relatives and community which drives parents to become cruel and wierd with their offspring. my parents used to be well liked and respected within their community and suddenly people stopped calling and talking to them at parties just because i’m not married. luckily they have nice friends outside the community and they travel a lot but many others are not in their position.

    Hey Nia, just out of curiosity which area are you from? I’m glad your parents sound like they are a tad bit less susceptible to family-pressure. My parents have lived abroad for majority of their life, have traveled lots and we grew up in a cosmopolitan city surrounded by various ethnicities – so its not like they’ve lived a really sheltered life. It still kind of freaks me out when they get all fundamentalist-christian (and they’re not even pentacost or whatever right-wing orthodox), and to be honest it makes me downright sad. My cousin (that I haven’t seen in about 12 years) who is about my age, just got married about a year ago and moved to Texas so apparently he’s been equipped with my phone number to call and talk some sense into me. In the meantime, my parents are lamenting the fact that I was “reading too many bad books” and that they have “failed in bringing me up right”. Paraphrasing my mother – “If this (my unholy irreverant attitude) isn’t the fault of the parents…then whose fault is it?”. Next time, if I’m feeling cheeky enough I’ll say “But amma, don’t you see..this is god’s will”. That or “..god moves in mysterious ways..”.

    Has anyone gone back and visited india without informing their extended family? I’ve considered that..

  30. Hey, anyone want to get married?

    What? I’m the only one that will say it out loud?

    🙂

    -dr. a

  31. During the last Indian wedding I went to, the grandmother of the bride told my father that the next time we’ll see each other is at my wedding…Um, I was 17.

    I absolutely hate how uncles and aunties get up in other people’s business. Really, it does not affect you that I dropped out of med school; I won’t be asking you for money when I’m living in a box. Maybe you should worry about your OWN kids who are out getting drunk and laid every weekend.

  32. 79 · some west coast guy said

    It still kind of freaks me out when they get all fundamentalist-christian (and they’re not even pentacost or whatever right-wing orthodox)

    The author of this post is “whatever right-wing Orthodox”. Just so you know. 🙂

    more later…(haven’t forgotten, suede!)

  33. It does seem like this guy has nice intentions but it can get annoying to be asked so many intrisive questions but i have also seen that with family…asking about everything from marriage when i was single to salaries. Once married it continues to then be questions on when you’ll have kids , if you have a kid, when is the next one and so forth.

    And this intrusive nature doesnt seem to be limited to desi uncel/auntie jis , taxi drivers, kiosk attendees etc. For example at my local salon the Tawainese and Korean ladies think nothing when asking me on topics of kids and jobs also.

    Like many people i try to be poliete and just give vague answers to try and cut the conversation short.

  34. Arriving late to this party, but have to second Taxi@30’s thoughts. It’s only a few years before all of the well-meaning chachaji’s and chachiji’s disappear. i only hope that when my kids reach that age, and if I am not longer around, someone well-meaning chachaji or chachiji will ask what they are doing with thier lives, and not assume that they know the best (they might, but at least they will have the opportunity to say that).

    Ok, I have officially turned into an aunty (but a polite, careful, and pussyfooty one.)

    Anna, I hope that I am one of the three that you have met.

    It’s nice to have you back after your blogging hiatus. take care of yourself, di.

  35. What I find amusing is not only the presumption that you need to get married right away, but that they know what kind of woman you like. I had people offer me suggestions on different indian women.”dont worry, she is very traditional.” , “Very soft spoken girl”, “fair”, “she is a doctor”. Stuff I do not give a damn about even if I were to magically become comfortable with seeking an arranged match. Once, I was in a very frank mood and told this person “well, I want a wild woman. Traditional women bore me”. He looks at me in a way similar to an Indian in one of Russell Peter’s routines(check out the 4:19 mark) . he goes about saying “praveeen, eh praveen, what are you talking about”.

  36. The office environment is sometimes a place where our personalities are revealed when something contradicts our culture. Everything from how we decorate our desks to how we behave in meetings makes co-workers experts on my life. They rival family and friends who spent a lifetime learning about me. This gives them the right to offer advice like they offer halva.

    It’s sweet, but too much of it will make you sick.

  37. 82 · A N N A said

    79 · The author of this post is “whatever right-wing Orthodox”. Just so you know. 🙂

    Hope my comment wasn’t too offensive but yes I remember you had the orthodox upbringing(Jacobite?). I used to think my particular protestant-flavor was pretty mellow and ‘liberal’ in comparison to say the Marthoma church, maybe its really not that different.

    Honestly, I don’t mind the endless intrusive questions (it can be hours of fun). Its when thats coupled with a certain type of vile animosity and resentment for the fact I’m not conforming to their ideals – thats when it makes me want to just walk away. Hate to sound like a pessamist but there just doesn’t seem to be any way to a middle ground since its coming from a religious-angle. God intended for you to have a family life. Good christians would ‘settle down’ with a family from their own background. No matter how much I try to explain, the blatant prejudice and intolerance just doesn’t seem like an issue to them – its just plain as day to them that marrying someone from a different religious background is ‘very bad’ and the only way you’ll be saved is by being christian. Any folks out there who moved in with their partners and told their parents about it?

  38. This reminds me of when I was a student in Manhattan NYC during the seventies. There was this Guj Indian girl who would sneak up on me in the student’s lounge, cover my eyes with her hands and say “guess who”. She would bring be sweets from home (which I just loved). She tied a Rhakee on my hand on brother and sister day. Her name was Meena. I don’t know where she is now.

    In Trinidad it is not uncommon for Hindus to marry Muslims or Christians, and caste is not an issue.

  40. This thread has been so amusing! Thanks Anna! I’m a Malu Catholic woman in her mid-thirties who recently married a non-Catholic, non-Indian man, who happens to be African-American. Needless to say, my folks were angry, upset, pissed, tearful, etc.etc. when I told them about my now-husband (then boyfriend) two years ago. I don’t know if they’ll ever be 100% supportive of my choices, but at least they love me enough to accept him and respect my decision to marry outside of our culture. Most of my family made it to the wedding, thank goodness – and it was one big Desi/African-American/Latin party! I’ve been dealing with ‘arranged dates,’ set-ups, being introduced to random Indian guys by aunties at weddings and matrimonial ads in Indian newspapers since the age of 23. Clearly nothing clicked with any of these ‘prospects’ – according to my parents, I was being too picky! Whatever! All I have to say is (and this goes to Some West Coast Guy and Notchewey) – without sounding too chiche, ‘keep hope alive’ and one of these days, your soul-mate just might show up! 🙂 Best of luck!

  41. Congratulations Mary! Thats great to hear! I wish you all the best.

    when I told them about my now-husband (then boyfriend) two years ago So when you’d told them about him two years ago – had you been seeing each other much longer before that? I was just wondering if you went full-disclosure after you had a good sense of certainty that you were indeed going to marry him? I was talking to my aunt (who has lived in the US since the 60’s and has one caucasian son-in-law) about this and as understanding as she was, she made some comment about how my parents were just trying to look out for me, god forbid I end up marrying some latino or ‘karumbhi’. Sigh. Needless to say, we didn’t talk long after that..

  42. some_west_coast_guy, nia.

    Speaking from my own life experience, one is easily seduced by this western culture to a point, where one finds one’s own culture backward.

    But, as the years pass, you will realize that your parents accomplished far more in life, than all the people whose opinions you currently value.

    Unfortunately this insight only comes when your parents are no longer around for you to say “sorry” or even “thank you for trying”.

    So, take their advice, it may not be the path of least resistance, but it will DEFINITELY be the path of least regret.

    Good Luck.

  43. “one is easily seduced by this western culture to a point, where one finds one’s own culture backward.”

    Thats the thing – I don’t ascribe to that kind of binary way of looking at culture. Theres plenty I love and cherish about south indian culture. There are a lot of things I detest about american culture. Doesn’t matter where its coming from but I don’t want any part of anything that promotes discrimination, prejudice or hate. And if you think (I don’t agree with this) that being a skeptic free-thinker is characteristic of someone who is ‘seduced by western culture’ , then you’re right. I’m a slut for western culture and proud of it.

  44. 44 · opal mehta said

    29 · Jangali Janwar said
    I used to hate weddings being a single Punjabi girl. All the old elder aunties would poke me and say, “you’re next.”
    They soon stopped when I started saying the same to them at funerals. I’ve heard this somewhere else. And somehow I doubt that there are so many insolent Punjabi girls poking aunties at funerals.

    Haha. I read the exact same thing in a joke book.

  46. “I used to hate weddings being a single Punjabi girl. All the old elder aunties would poke me and say, “you’re next.”

    I read this joke in an e-mail forwarding

  48. Anna, it’s not so bad. After several years of trying it all the other ways, I finally succumbed to being set up by a desi uncle and it worked out. My story is not unlike your’s. I was aging (by desi standards) and the pressure was on, but the pressure was coming from me more than anyone else. I had been originally married at a young age (by desi male standards) because my parents wanted to get my younger sister married and in our culture we do it in chronological order, oldest to youngest, and they could not get her married unless I was so I met my first wife on one of those desi matrimonial sites SM blogged about. We were happy but both too young to be married without having had sown our wild oats first. We divorced after two years of sincerely trying to make it work. After that I kind of went wild with partying and sleeping around, drinking, smoking pot, job jumping, every desi parents nightmare. I developed a bit of a bad rep in our local community but people still showed respect because of my parents’ good names. Anyway, I wasn’t committing any crimes, just having fun the way most young people do in their twenties. Anyway, as my thirties loomed on the horizon I started to get serious again and sought a longterm relationship to no avail. Everytime I thought I met “the one”, some crazy incident would happen to smash that dream. One time a fiance’s parents fought with mine and they called off the wedding. Luckily no money had been spent yet. After about 6 good years of getting my heart broken by one potential wife after the other, and I have to say here that a divorced desi man is looked at with much suspicion, I finally succumbed to a desi uncle’s (not my actual uncle but a colleague) offer to find me a “good match”. Relunctant as I was to take that route, fearing that the families from whom he would be searching would be too conservative and not accept me, I am even now amazed to say that I have recently married again, close to my 40th birthday, and we are very happy despite the fact that she does come from a family that was at first hesitant to accept a divorced son in law with a previous reputation such as mine. Being from a religious family does not help either because you are expected to be just as religious and orthodox as your parents. Anyway, despite all these factors, I have found my soul mate and couldn’t be happier. For me the formality of finding someone through an elder who expected me to oblige was what really clinched the matter. All of my previous girlfriends were self picked and there was no pressure from outside to stick it out. I find that when a desi elder sets you up, you are more likely to take it seriously and there is more respect there. I also still dated other people while I was first getting to know her, just in case it did not pan out then I had options to fall back on, but once her family accepted me and she declared her love, I made the exclusive commitment. It’s worth a try. You are not obliged to marry the first person he sets you up with, but at least meet a few people this way. You never know what could come out of it. For me it beats all the other women I chose for myself. I realize that I didn’t actually know how to pick a quality woman.