Illustration by Faraz Aamer Khan/Dawn.com

Introductions are in order here so let’s say it is safe to remember me as Bisma from Brooklyn. I am at that age where your dreams no longer matter because you must get married or suffer at the hands of all Pakistani aunties in the whole wide world.

My family and friends, with only good intentions, are constantly setting me up with rishtas and blind dates. All the chai time and dinners have been, to say the least, an interesting experience and a few stand out for many different reasons.

*Tariq was introduced by the local match-making Auntie. Tariq, who likes to go by Tyreek instead of its standard pronunciation was born and raised in the US. For the past five years, Tyreek has been living in Michigan where he plans to start a business. Also, Tyreek doesn’t speak a word of Urdu (a total con on the pros and cons list for me) but no one is perfect.

On day one, Tyreek and I had the usual conversation; likes, dislikes, a little bit family history, siblings, etc. What we had not done yet was unconventional in the world of rishtas: we had not exchanged pictures. That evening finally, Tyreek insisted on exchanging pictures. Reluctant, I still agreed. I am a bit uncomfortable with the idea that my picture is out there with a stranger. But since it was an exchange – I agreed. He sent his picture and later in the evening, I sent a current picture of myself. The whole looks thing isn’t top-most on my priority list anyway. He responded to my email right away, commenting on how beautiful I am and that is when the crazy hit the fan.

DAY TWO: 10:00am: (Tariq) Are you sure you wanna talk to me? 11:46am: (Tariq)  I am just asking. Don’t be mad. 12:46pm: (Me) Hey, sorry abt the late response. In the city — on/off on the subway — we can talk when I get home in the evening. 2:45pm: (Tariq) It’s cool 2:46pm: (Tariq) Are you interested in me? 3:00pm: (Me) Can we talk about this later? – I am not sure this is an appropriate conversation over text. 3:15pm: (Tariq) Ok. 3:21pm: (Tariq) Sorry. ***We have a long conversation from 9pm till about 11:40pm*** 11:46pm: (Tariq) I miss talking to you.

DAY THREE: 9:00am: (Tariq) I haven’t heard from you all day. If you don’t wanna talk to meet that’s fine. Just tell me. I won’t get mad. It’s better than making me wait. 9:10am: (Tariq) I have been thinking about you all day. 10:30am: (Me) Was on the subway – just got ur texts. Umm…its only 10am. When is a good time to call you? 10: 32am: (Tariq) Just text me here and there and I will let you know. 10: 34am: (Me) Ok. 3:46pm: (Tariq) You didn’t respond to my email. 3:47am: (Me) Oops. Got a bit busy. I will get to it now. How is work going? 3: 49am: (Tariq) Very busy. You don’t think about me. You never said you do. 4:30pm: (Me) Saw your email. It’s a little too early for you to fly out to take me out to dinner. How about we just get to know each other a little bit better, first? 6:00pm: (Tariq) You don’t have time for me. 6:30pm: (Tariq) You didn’t respond to my email. 6:46pm: (Me) Yes I did 6:50pm: (Tariq) Not until I mentioned it. 7:00pm: (Me) Can I call you later?

***We had a conversation about the texting throughout the day. I explained that I was busy during the day but if he gave me a good time to call – we could always talk in the evenings as long as he wanted.  Apparently, he agreed to everything without actually comprehending what I had said. ***

DAY FOUR: I start receiving most of the same texts as Day Two; alarmed and panicked, I called my best friend for some advice in the afternoon. I told her that our conversations on the phone were normal and he was saying all the right things but the texts messages were throwing me off. She said that he sounded nervous about me so to make things less tense, I should lighten up the moment every time he brought up the same topic. So I did. The not-so-great result:

1:33pm: (Me) Hey, hope your day is going well :) 2:19pm: (Tariq) Hi, I am not. 2:26pm: (Me) That’s no good. What’s going on? 3:07pm: (Tariq) I didn’t sleep last night. 3:14pm: (Me) I thought you were going to sleep right away last night after we talked. 4:00pm: (Tariq) I was thinking about you… 4:15pm: (Me) Thinking what abot me? 4:30pm: (Tariq) You don’t have time for me. 4:45pm: (Me) I do too! 5:00pm: (Tariq) You don’t even think about me 5:05pm: (Me) How do you know what I think? 5:10pm: (Tariq) I miss talking to you. 5:15pm: (Tariq) What would happen to you if you couldn’t talk to me for a day or two? 5:30pm: (Me) Does your family celebrate Mother’s Day? 5:45pm (Tariq) Yes we do, already got mom a present. I wanna send you a gift too – send me your address. 6:00pm (Me) That’s nice. And you don’t need to send me a gift. How about an e-card or something like that :) 6: 05pm (Me) How do you feel about cheese? 6:10pm (Tariq) I like it on pizza. 6:15pm (Me) I love pizza. It is important in my life. 7:00pm (Tariq) Cool. Lol.

***We talked that night about how important it was for him to take things slow with me. I really needed to get to know him so that I could be comfortable with him, after all I did have a string of bad experiences which I was honest with him about.  Once again, he said he understood completely and would respect my wishes. ***

DAY FIVE: Like we never had the conversation the night before, the texting started again: You don’t think about me, you don’t miss me, I am thinking of you, are you interested in me, why don’t you call me, etc.

This time, I had a conversation with my mother. I told her about the situation and asked what the best way to handle it would be. I explained that although he behaved a little weird with the texting, our phone conversations were going pretty well. Basically I was confused. So to my surprise, my mother who is technologically-challenged suggested Skype because a face-to-face might confirm a few things. And I was all for it. That night, Tyreek and I set up a Skype date.

Skype saved my life.

When Tyreek popped up on the window, it was someone else. The guy on Skype wasn’t even close to the Tyreek that was in the picture. I almost choked on my own shock. The guy, who called himself Tyreek, was probably in his late 40s, disheveled, and a complete wreck.

Me: You look different… Tariq: Yeah I know….he…he Me: Okay… (scared now)

I was upset and I tried to hide it by talking rapidly and then sent a text to my sister asking her to call me. My sister immediately fake-called me and I got an excuse to say bye. The so-called “Tyreek” never noticed my reaction – he was too excited about seeing me on Skype.

DAY SIX: The next day I had some family obligations which kept me busy. Tyreek called me almost 30 times that day and sent his usual texts throughout the day as well. I decided not to call him until after giving some serious objective-driven thought to the situation.

I finally made my decision and called Tyreek that night. I told him that although we had several conversations about things moving too fast it seemed that he still didn’t understand me. I felt that he was looking for someone who could give him the time he needed. He started saying that he was wrong and I was right and to give him a second chance. He was willing to move to NY or anywhere in the world I wanted to go. He hadn’t felt like this about a girl in a long time.

I wished him well and good luck in the search for someone special. He was quiet for a second and then started weeping quietly (I don’t know if it was fake though). I waited a full minute and said, “Tyreek, I am going to hang up the phone now.” And then I hung up.

DAY SEVEN: I told my mother how Skype went and she responded, “Was it something you couldn’t fix?” I replied, “Never mind.”  I told my best friend who replied, “I think you just had four-year relationship in a week. Congrats on the longest-felt shortest-time relationship ever. But whatever happens – happens for the best. Hang in there.”

The Auntie who suggested the rishta ended up spilling the truth about Tyreek, who apparently stalked every girl he sent a rishta for. My mom asked about the photo and Auntie said she hadn’t even seen him since he was 15! That made my mom tell her thing or two in the most colourful Urdu you have ever heard. The Auntie hung up mumbling something about me having too many nakhray.

Until next time,

Bisma from Brooklyn

P.S. I would like to take this opportunity to invite the readers, men and women, to share your story. Please take the following advice into consideration:

Please refrain from using bad language, ranting on women or men, and using real names and/or places out of respect for others.

Other than that, I wish you “happy sharing.”

(*) Names and background information have been changed/withheld to respect person(s) involved.

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