Days of My Life
Tomorrow is the V Day. No special day for me. The Sun will rise in the east again, my alarm clock will pour molten lead into my ears again and I will run off to work again trying to be on time but will probably be late again. I will, perhaps, see a lot of pink around and perhaps a lot of roses. I will try to ignore them but then silently a crack will appear in my heart. They say there is no noise when the heart breaks. I kinda agree with that. It has happened before and it will happen again. No special day.
I will meet people. I will smile with them. I will hear their stories of how they will be going out with their significant others blah blah blah. I will go out with my single dude friends as well and we will all bitch and moan and laugh it all away. We will find excuses and curse the fairer half of humanity in a feeble attempt to condone our own frailties. And then we will pretend to forget everything over a cup of coffee. Silently inside, a crack will persist in my heart. I will try to put a band-aid on it but I am afraid it will develop into a pus draining sore. Nasty but true and painful.
I know I seem to whine a lot. People think I am trying to put the blame on others for the fact that I have no one to give a stupid rose to. Subconsciously that might be true. Consciously, however I am just narrating what I have experienced. It would be so nice if I were to fall in love with somebody and she were to reciprocate that and we were to get married. I have tried to make that happen but call it luck or whatever but that has not happened. It is not easy to meet single Sikh women with the kind of lifestyle I have. All I have now is the "arranged marriage" route. Sadly enough, when you go this route, you learn how many hurdles there are in this path. You find out, sometimes to your dismay, how many preconceptions and prequalifications one has to satisfy before one becomes "eligible". For instance, H1 tried to get in touch with somebody whose daughter was of a marriageable age. Well, supposedly the girl was not interested for the simple reason that she would not want to be with a FOB( I was told turban was not an issue). That is a ok. Everybody is entitled to their own decisions but when you are in a vulnerable state of mind, sometimes you ponder and reflect over why people made those decisions. I never met that girl and for once, I really don't care why she thinks whatever she thinks about FOBs. To me, it was another instance of people stereotyping people and that is kinda touchy for me.
I apologise for lumping all American-Indians into the category of "confused". For the record, I am very good friends with a number of American born people of Indian origin and my experiences have mostly been pleasant. It is true there are cultural differences between the two but none of those are insurmountable. I also know of FOBs who will stoop to any level to get a visa. Like I said in my last post, I can partly understand the way ABD's think about FOBs. However, I was suprised to find the degree of negativity towards FOBs. Ms Singh's vitriolic comment on my last post is an apt example. QED, madam. But I just wanted to let people know of the new face of FOBs. And personally, I don't care if my princess is from India or the US or from the North Pole. As long as we have magic between us, it is all cool. My well-wishers have "arranged" for proposals from India as well as the US and continue to do so. The process is interesting and I can't help but make observations.
On the whole, I think it is just the nature of the game. There are too many prerequisites to meet. Clean shaven, Jatt, non-FOB . I am none of those. I know I will still find a wife. It's just going to be harder.
On a lighter note, I am suprised it took people so long to realize that I am dashing etc etc etc. BTW, I have tried to approach women directly and have had a few hilarious experiences. That is a story for another day. Today, I have to arrange a bucket for all the tears I am going to shed tomorrow.
I will meet people. I will smile with them. I will hear their stories of how they will be going out with their significant others blah blah blah. I will go out with my single dude friends as well and we will all bitch and moan and laugh it all away. We will find excuses and curse the fairer half of humanity in a feeble attempt to condone our own frailties. And then we will pretend to forget everything over a cup of coffee. Silently inside, a crack will persist in my heart. I will try to put a band-aid on it but I am afraid it will develop into a pus draining sore. Nasty but true and painful.
I know I seem to whine a lot. People think I am trying to put the blame on others for the fact that I have no one to give a stupid rose to. Subconsciously that might be true. Consciously, however I am just narrating what I have experienced. It would be so nice if I were to fall in love with somebody and she were to reciprocate that and we were to get married. I have tried to make that happen but call it luck or whatever but that has not happened. It is not easy to meet single Sikh women with the kind of lifestyle I have. All I have now is the "arranged marriage" route. Sadly enough, when you go this route, you learn how many hurdles there are in this path. You find out, sometimes to your dismay, how many preconceptions and prequalifications one has to satisfy before one becomes "eligible". For instance, H1 tried to get in touch with somebody whose daughter was of a marriageable age. Well, supposedly the girl was not interested for the simple reason that she would not want to be with a FOB( I was told turban was not an issue). That is a ok. Everybody is entitled to their own decisions but when you are in a vulnerable state of mind, sometimes you ponder and reflect over why people made those decisions. I never met that girl and for once, I really don't care why she thinks whatever she thinks about FOBs. To me, it was another instance of people stereotyping people and that is kinda touchy for me.
I apologise for lumping all American-Indians into the category of "confused". For the record, I am very good friends with a number of American born people of Indian origin and my experiences have mostly been pleasant. It is true there are cultural differences between the two but none of those are insurmountable. I also know of FOBs who will stoop to any level to get a visa. Like I said in my last post, I can partly understand the way ABD's think about FOBs. However, I was suprised to find the degree of negativity towards FOBs. Ms Singh's vitriolic comment on my last post is an apt example. QED, madam. But I just wanted to let people know of the new face of FOBs. And personally, I don't care if my princess is from India or the US or from the North Pole. As long as we have magic between us, it is all cool. My well-wishers have "arranged" for proposals from India as well as the US and continue to do so. The process is interesting and I can't help but make observations.
On the whole, I think it is just the nature of the game. There are too many prerequisites to meet. Clean shaven, Jatt, non-FOB . I am none of those. I know I will still find a wife. It's just going to be harder.
On a lighter note, I am suprised it took people so long to realize that I am dashing etc etc etc. BTW, I have tried to approach women directly and have had a few hilarious experiences. That is a story for another day. Today, I have to arrange a bucket for all the tears I am going to shed tomorrow.
posted by harry singh at 5:43 PM
6 Comments:
You'll survive, Harry. I know it seems hard, but I'm sure you'll find a way to make Valentine's Day funny and you'll write a good, poetic post about it. And don't forget, V-Day is just a Hallmark holiday, it's sort of a commercial event created by retail stores. It doesn't necessarily have any deep meaning and it doesn't have to make your heart break if you decide not to let it.
god dude, could you come off as more pathetic? You do understand that valentines day, even falling in love, are all constructs, mostly meant to separate your money from your wallet and your sanity from your soul?
life isn't like hollywood, and it certainly isn't like bollywood.
a2
Cheer up, dear. Have a chocolate.
Wow dude,
your way to sad and like anon#2 said a bit pathetic. Keep it together. Haven't you ever heard the indian term : Sabar Ka Fal Meeta Hota Hai?
GET A GRIP!
As monotonous as it could be, it was a usual day for me....Came back from work and went to my computer scrutinizing Harry's blog "finding a wife" just as a third umpire would do(he seldom does anything else) and so far it has been a pretty fair game. Harry has played consistently well but not to forget some excellent deliveries bowled by people like Puneet catching him all squared up!!. And then, A Bouncer rips straight off the seam and tries to meet ends with Harry(caught unaware). Aahh.......very unfair.......bad game Lilly!!. In fact it wasn't just Harry,it aimed the whole team of F.O.Bs. Whatsoever, it irked my lazy ass enough to bubble up and throw in some typing!
Preet's arguement for seeking similar grounds is totally plausible, but imaging what Harry and other FOBs refer to C in ABCD is a mislead. When we(Fobs) say confused, we DON'T picture someone with a baggy torned up jeans not knowing where exactly to tie it up, or someone with a shirt that big brother was supposed to wear or with a cap that tries to roof up the earring from sunlight and certainly not someone who if offered Matter Paneer(and not pizza!!) doesn't know whether to eat it or drink it.......no..no...no........the 'C' of confusion relates to their misery of trying to keep a balance between two cultures, one where their genes inherit and one where they sprout. Their confusion is in what they tend to perceive and what they end up conceiving!
The one who offers an insult writes it in sand but for the one who receives it, it is chiseled in bronze..........so lets get back to the stinky comment. Firstly what I amaze is why would someone going to India sniff at armpits rather than admire the beauty of a great culture!!....anyways we'll keep comments on personal preferences out. It wasn't that someone poured ABCD seeds into a microwave and they popped up!......it took each of them nine months in a FOB Womb to stretch out into arms and legs. Do people like Lilly project the same attitude toward their FOB parents? Do they smirk about in ABCD get-togethers" My Dad stinks". I haven't heard of any stinky civilization before deos were discovered. I don't know if Lilly is a fragrant flower, but daily showers is a pretty good alternative to deos and highly recommended to Ms Lilly(who seems to prefer latter).
Anyways, pledging no personal offences let me pile up quickly as this is supposed to be a response to a blog and not a blog in itself. We Indians (fobs or abcds) are proud of our achievements. If there were no FOBs, there apparently wouldn't have been any ABCDs. Thousands of FOBs come to US each year, pave through atrocities of the environment and still reap up into an inseparable and successful part of this society, in fact taking its standards higher up!!. How many ABCDs have taken the courage to pimp their flexibility in Indian society, after all that's where their gene pool lies. Harry has brought on some issues that deal with all indians, be it fob or abcd. Lets be constructive to his quest. Well said is that " if i let my fingers idly over the keyboard, it might happen that my screed made an intelligible sentence. If countless monkeys were strumming on keyboards, they might write all the books in british museum!!"
Lemme give u guys some facts and figures(mostly FOBs) as I believe in evidence based arguements:
38% of doctors in US are Indians
12% scientists in US are Indians
36% of Nasa scientists are Indians
34% of microsoft employees are Indians
World's first university was established in Takshila in 700BC
Art of navigation was born in river Sindh 5000 years ago
Algebra, trigonometry and calculus come from India!!
Be proud Indians and lets tame our perceptives about each other...................
india is a colonial concept, get over it. Nothing links someone from punjab to someone from bombay except an accident of history.
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