Tag Archives: indian wedding

To the one who made me smile :)

This past weekend was my cousins wedding and if you anything about Indian weddings, you know they can get very loud and very chaotic! Aunties giving you the side eye, Bibi’s listing your flaws, Uncles getting drunk, Kids running around…oh how I love it ๐Ÿ™‚indian-wedding-dance-floor

Anyways in the middle of the weeding weekend my mom tells me she gave my number to a boy and he would be texting me. All I could think was FUUUUUCCCKKKKK!!!! No no no !!!! Ughhh not again. Probably another psycho concerned about my fiber intake or how many times I blink per minute (yes ย that has happened before).

On the wedding day, while sitting in the the temple waiting for the ceremony to start I get a text from Jay. He said hi and right away I apologized that I was busy and said I would text him when I had time. ย He said fine, no worries. The next day I texted to tell him sorry I was going to the reception and would text him later. He responded with a cute flirty response. That’s the first time I Smiled.

The next day I texted him good morning and said I was packing up and heading back to my place that day and would finally have time to talk to him. He responded. That’s the second time I Smiled.

While making the 2 hour treacherous drive back to my place, Jay called. For the next two hours we talked. I parked my car and we talked. I grabbed my bags and took them in and we continued to talk.

Shit, could I possibly like this guy?

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The next few days we talked, we texted we snap chatted. After such a long time it was so refreshing to finally talk to a man so comfortable in his own skin. A man who wasn’t afraid to say what he wanted from life and had opinions to share. Jay made me laugh, Jay made me feel special.

Fast forward to today and I think I really really like him ๐Ÿ™‚ If nothing becomes of this I think I will be okay, because Jay made me smile. In a time where I was loosing hope, where I was beginning to feel that love had given up on me, Jay pulled me out of the shadows and showed me that hey, don’t give up just yet.

So where do we go from here? I don’t know. But all I do know, thank you Jay ๐Ÿ™‚ You made my heart beat just a little faster, you made me look forward to getting texts from a boy, but more than anything, thank you, because ….

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When is it wrong to be jealous of others blessings?

As a child I was always taught to be grateful for what God has blessed me with. In my teens I learned to not compare myself others. In my twenties I found peace in knowing that everything happens in due time and for a reason. But at what point do you stop believing all this? At what point does this sound like nothing more then horse shit that your elders pass on down to you in the hopes that you will accept your mundane, mediocre middle class life?

Now don’t get me wrong. I love God. God has a very special place in my heart and I do believe he/she does everything for a reason. But, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed and let down by God. ย Yes I am grateful for my blessings, yes I am trying not to compare myself to others, yes I am waiting for my blessing and know that things will happen when they do BUT I cant help but feel pissed knowing that fucked up, maniac, bimbos who do nothing more then use everyone around them steal their money and talk shit behind everyone’s back are living their happily ever afters and I am sitting here with nothing/no one.

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In the upcoming months I have a total of six weddings to attend. I know all six of the brides personally and am flabbergasted that these women were able to find someone to call their own and Im still here. I’m angry knowing that three of them have openly and unapologetically cheated on their fiances yet someone was willing to look past that. One bride ran up a $50,000 USD credit card bill under her mothers name after she stole her identity, and then ran off on her first fiance, had the second one arrested and has openly said she marrying the third on for his money…..yet I am still here.

I have racked my brain for weeks, and I just don’t get it. Such absolutely horrible people are being blessed with such beautiful things like love and happiness….Yet I am still here.

By no means am I saying I am this holier then though type of person, because I will freely admit I have made mistakes, but for the most part I have tried to live a good clean life. I don’t understand why nice people like me, who do everything right are literally praying and crying till their eyes run dry for the miracle of love to bless their lives have to wait, but fucktastic people like the brides-to-be get to be happy now.

Yes I know, good things come to those who wait but WHAT THE FUCK!!!! Where is it fair that at 18, 22, 25 etc couples are finding their soulmates and here ย I almost 29, hoping…praying….that someone will notice me.

I know I sound old and bitter and ungrateful, but you know what, I’m ok with that. ย I know I can’t be the only one out their that feels this way. The only that feels that somehow God for got about them, that maybe their blessings will never come, that maybe they were meant to be alone ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

 

 

he was supposed to be the one

It started with fireworks and ended in tears. After years of searching, he was supposed to be the one. The one that would love me, the one that would give me my fairy tale ending. But what he would become was nothing more then a heartache time and time again. They called him “the bull” and rightfully so. He came charging into my life, tore me to pieces, and charged right out. Never did I say I loved him, never did he promise to stay, but still….there was something. Some mysterious cosmic connection that kept up spiraling, kept us spinning in this never ending cycle of random hooks up and heart felt texts and eventual abandonment.

The last time I saw him, I thought this was it. This would be the day he would say he wanted more then just play dates in the sack. But no, he came, he cummed, he left. To say I want him or miss him would be stupid. To say he made me feel special would be silly.

With him I pictured my future. With him I attached all my future hopes dreams and desires. But no……it would never be.

I thought if I wrote this I would free myself from his power. I would free myself from his memories, free myself long enough to once again live. But no, all I feel is pain, rejection, hate and disgust. He no longer is just “the bull”. He now represents all the years of rejection, the ridicule, the hate. He now symbolizes all my pain and agony, all the sleepless nights, the millions of tears I’ve shed and the thousands of unanswered prayers I have made.

He was supposed to be the one.

My First Time

It was quick, it was painless and by the end of it I was an emotional wreck. I knew the day had to come someday, but damn, I wasn’t ready. No I’m not talking about loosing my virginity, (although that’s another taboo topic that I might address someday), but rather my first step into the magical world of an arranged marriage.pre-arranged-marriages-pre-pair-people-for-the-future_o_2607971

It all started with a chance encounter at the guardwara. A friend of a friend reached out to my dad and said hey, we have a boy whose of marriage age and you have a daughter who obviously needs to get married ASAP (I was 24 at the time) so here’s his email address and get them married. When questioned about what the guy did, the friend responded that “J” was a dentist and came from a nice family in England. My parents, a little freaked out but excited and blinded by the fact that anyone was showing any interest in me and that I had hit the jackpot by landing a dentist on my first try, immediately emailed “J.” A few days later, JR responded and included with his email was his picture.

(Oh THE picture. If the guy sent one obviously I would have to send one back. The dreaded moment that I would soon learn to despise. The feeling of uncertainty, the total shattering of whatever little self esteem I had, the utter disgust and nauseating feeling of being judged based on THAT single picture. )

Now my mom being a typical Indian mom whose is very vain immediately rejected the boy. When asked why, she came up with a list of stupid reasons, all of which I disagreed with. “He’s too skinny, I don’t like his nose, his eyes are too small, he’s not smiling…the list went on and on.

Angry and annoyed that she would say such mean things about someone she didn’t even know, I ย lashed out. That was the first fight of many that we would have over the years. Our fight went on for days and in that whole jumbled mess of emotions, J was soon forgotten about, only to be mentioned in passing or at the guardwara when my dad would spot the friend and whisper to my mom “There’s J’s relative” and they would both bee line to the langar hall or run away to the car in attempt to hide from the man.

After about two years and 40 some guys later, I thought I had forgotten about J. I thought he would be nothing but a distant memory, but boy was I wrong….SO SO WRONG ๐Ÿ™‚

I would soon learn that this simple little dentist from a good family was nothing but a freak with a fetish for big boobs and a tight ass….more on that later……

~r~ xoxoxo

The Present, The Now

I’m 28, unmarried, single with no prospects in sight and just the absolute bane of my mothers existence right now ๐Ÿ™‚ Forget that I’m happy, have a great career, am independent and have a great set of friends. As a modern day working Punjabi woman in the US, getting married still seems to elude me and as we all know an unmarried Indian girl? Hai Hai Hai…..something must be wrong!

My poor mother has PRAYED….hard, gone to a pandit (three times, I think he intentionally doesn’t pick up her phone calls anymore), put out ads , did some voodoo, hit up all members of her secret bibi club at the guardwara, begged relatives, stalked boys at parties and gone to every social event within a 100 mile radius but alas, her poor unfortunate daughter still remains unwed…..bachari.

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So why start this blog? Why out my dukhi ma? ๐Ÿ™‚

As I venture off shortly into the last year of my twenties, I felt I needed to leave all my excess, bull crap, good for nothing baggage behind. The biggest baggage being my mothers need for me to get married to a proper Punjabi boy, preferably a doctor or engineer from a good family (Sounds a little familiar doesn’t it ๐Ÿ™‚ )

After years of searching, countless nights spent crying and feeling like an absolute piece of shit that no one wanted to love, I finally came to terms with myself and said F*** this shit, I’m going to live! So, this blog is my manifesto to the world, that hey….with or without a proper punjabi boy, this girls gonna live her life ๐Ÿ™‚

Thanks for reading!

~r~ xoxox