47
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.
So let’s call this guy the crying rishta…
It is difficult to date, period. But what is harder than dating are rishtas or arranged courtships, simply because both families are involved and the tense pressure to make a decision is at an all time high.
Nonetheless, my parents and siblings have been patient and do respect my feelings completely so when a rishta does come along – I rarely say no to their suggestions because you simply never know who might meet.
It is the usual with desi rishtas – if it’s not a doctor, engineer, lawyer or something fancy in IT then the chai is just not worth it.
So when Ali* and his family came over for dinner and all went surprisingly smoothly – I was beginning to look forward to a possible date with him.
And soon enough, Ali’s mom contacted my mother and exchanged contact information for us.
Ali contacted for a casual date – ice cream in Central Park. And of course my weakness for ice cream and Central Park turned the date excitement level dial from a four to a good seven.
It was the perfect sunny July day in New York for ice cream in the park. We met near the ice cream shop and walked over to Central Park. While walking we discussed our friends and by the time we found a decent spot near the lake, the conversation had moved over to our families.
As the eldest child, we both were emotionally dependent and had a close bond with our immediate families. We both were career-oriented and wanted our families to be a part of our future success. All in all, it was going pretty well and I had finally relaxed a little on the date.
We were talking about how our parents behaved over rishtas and were having a laugh when I mentioned that my mom was awesome but a little obsessed. He replied with something along the lines of how his mom was perfect in every way.
I thought that was sweet and wanted some insight into this ‘perfect mother.’
Ali talked about the deep and close relationship that he had with his mother and teared up while talking about her. I thought that was endearing until…
The tears actually started to roll down his cheeks and he couldn’t stop. He sobbed while telling me what great sacrifices his mother has made and how she understands him the best.
I went back to being uncomfortable.
I told him that it was okay and maybe I should get him a bottle of water from the hot dog stand.
And he looked at me and started bawling right into my lap. He cried like no man had ever cried before – there were hiccups and snot. It was a rough sight.
I was tense now and completely ticked off.
People were passing by us and giving me the look of death, as if I made him cry. I crossed my arms while he kept crying in my lap.
I told him I was going to get that bottle of water and be right back. I stood at the hot dog stand and purposely let six people cut me in the line just so I wouldn’t have to go back.
I couldn’t stay here and I came on my own so I had to find a way leave him ASAP.
I came with the water and he had calmed down quite a bit. I told him maybe he should go home and relax a little because he seemed he had a lot on his mind.
Before he could respond, I walked away to catch the E train home.
What I learned from Ali: Become independent ASAP or die.
Until the next one, Bisma from Brooklyn
*Names and background information have been changed/withheld to respect person(s) involved.
The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.
