In Loving Memory of Annabel

So I tried my hand at domesticity and made some desserts for a lunch that I was invited to.

I was actually visiting my Tupperware friend to collect my order and she said we had to stay for lunch and also invited my best friend and her boyfriend over.

How life has changed, the three of us would party up a storm back at university. We were not even remotely thinking of marriage. We all had our dreams, funky clothes, attitudes and packs of cigarettes.

Now here I was: arriving with my Halaal version of chocolate mousse (No Gelatin), and a peppermint and caramel tart made from scratch.

I have to point out that it was much harder than I thought. I mean the double boiler was overflowing because I added too much water at the bottom and I have to save the chocolate!

I didn’t beat the caramel before hand, just chucked the blob into the cream in one go, so I had to “fold” the mixture for like ten years – who needs pilates? It was still lumpy at the end, but who cares! No one noticed anyway.

But anyway, about three hours later with chocolate mousse splattered on the wall and in my hair; and my brother taking pics in disbelief; I had manage to not completely f#ck it up.

My Tupperware friend made three different dishes for lunch and my Best friend provided the salads and sides.

I was like: What the hell?????? What happened to flirting and dancing and being cute?

The only cute thing around there was TF’s 4 year old son and the puppy she calls Black Bastard, since it has no name yet.

At least we still have a sense of humour I guess,

So the trip down memory lane began, and TF pointed out that we had to console her when she got knocked up 4 years back and got married. I remembered that time and remembered how afraid she was to be a mum, and for the first time I could relate.

I am petrified!!!

I am getting married and that usually leads into having a kid.

Kids are fine, except they belong to someone else.

I don’t even have a desk plant. I just know it would die.

I actually had a plant in my apartment in Cape Town. It was called Annabel and I struggled to keep it alive, and then I left it in the care of my friend while away, and she killed Annabel. The truth is……I was kinda relieved…….sick, I know.

What kind of Mother would I make if I was relieved my plant died???

I mean it always starts this way, ordering Tupperware, making dessert, and next thing you sharing recipes and talking about how to clear nappy rash…….

I discuss Yeats, Rumi and Khalil Gibran. I love the ballet and theatre. I want to win an Oscar, or any award…..

I don’t want to exchange it for developmental sets and kiddies plays.

Ok, so maybe I am getting ahead of myself but marriage scares me.

Firstly there is the potential children fear – add mummy tummy and droopy boobs

Then there is the re-introduction into Indian Culture. What if I loose myself? What if I loose everything that makes me different?

My best friend said it can never happen even if I tried, but who really knows?

I guess that this is apart of the journey, its all one interesting rollercoaster of emotions

Fear? ...............What Exactly??

While I may comment on the bizarre and entertaining aspects of my culture and religion, I have to say that there are certain things that are actually pretty awesome.

The week before my engagement people kept asking me if I was nervous. And I kept saying I was fine.

But the more people asked, the more I kept expecting that this nervous feeling should spring up at any point.

By the time the engagement arrived I was sitting around waiting for it to arrive, but nothing happened.

I prodded different emotions and thoughts trying to get this feeling going, but nothing was happening.

I began feeling like an emotionless freak!

Where were my nerves? Everyone else has nerves!!! I want my nerves dammit! I deserve nerves like everyone else!

I guess it was a case of wanting everything to feel exactly the way people say its going to be.

But that is the thing I has realized about life, things never feel the way it did for anyone else. Every experience is unique.

So I arrive at the engagement and its all delayed and stuff – that is a whole other story. This meant I had to chill at my cousins house till I got the green light. At this point I thought: “oooh, maybe now the nerves and excitement will kick in”

Nothing

I am an alien. I knew it all along. Any minute now my real race will come down in a zen like space ship and take me back to planet “Unruffled”. We will do yoga all day and spend hours meditating. Or maybe they just a bunch of stoners on this planet....

Anyway.........

I was worried. Why was I so calm????????

I got bored of worrying eventually and checked my awesome make up and hair and fluffed my beautiful designer dress. My picture got taken, I posed and had a merry old time.

Finally I arrive, and I am seated on this cool white couch awaiting the arrival of Lemon Sorbet aka My Fiancé.

When I saw him walk in I figured out why I was so calm.

I had nothing to fear. Because I knew he was the one, no doubts, no second guesses.

And part of the reason I had no doubts was because of this event itself.

He was going to put a ring on my finger in front of everyone that meant something to us.

I don’t have to fear he would leave or that it was hoax. I had nothing to fear because he was an honorable man, who is brave enough to say “She is the one” in front of our community, friends and gossip mongers.

He was real. This was real. And I could trust him.

While the one knee and ring scenario is very romantic, this to me; was more romantic.

It was like he had nothing to hide, no deceit, and all his love to share.

Tradition can be so tear jerking sometimes

My "Family Boy"

I am marrying a “Family Boy”

I love this term, it makes me laugh.

You see back in India there is a little village, and guess what? My man and I can both be traced back to that exact village.

In fact, we are actually kind of related on my Dad’s Mother’s side of the family.

It makes me feel weird when I think about it, because he is like a distant cousin or something, but then I realize that all Muslims are related because they have been doing these weird business transactions for eons.

You know what I mean? The whole, I marry your daughter to my son because its good for business.

Thankfully society has evolved somewhat since then, and majority of people marry for love. Like my parents. Who still love each other very much till today.

When I met my Fiancé, I had no idea that he was a “Family Boy”. I just looked at him and thought, hmmm, nice lips. And those eyes, oh my word!

It wasn’t all lust, he was also nice to talk to and easy to get along with, even if he did lie and tell me that he likes sushi when he so doesn’t!

On our first date I just knew I was going to marry him. It’s one of those things that you cannot explain to anyone. You just know, and for the first time in my life I had no doubts that this was it.

I am not saying that he is perfect or our relationship is perfect, it’s just a case of I am willing to go through the tough times with him.

But maybe luck was on my side because he was also the type of guy that I should have been marrying anyway.

When we found out with this weird relationship between our families that spans many decades, we laughed.

It was highly ironic. Me. The girl that so far removed from conforming to any ideal had in fact done something that people wanted me to do anyway.

This pissed the Gossip Mongers off further. Because I was never “Marriage Material”, so how did I get so lucky?

And all I have to say is: “Get over yourself!”

I would marry this man even if he was a Chinese pheasant who couldn’t even grow a good crop of rice.

Because, who his family is does not define who he is.

We both have values and beliefs that are our own. And we are connected by these values and beliefs.

Ring Choosing Day

The date for my engagement was set for three weeks after the proposal.

My Fiancé and I were so excited about finally getting engaged.

It was scary and nerve wrecking but so fulfilling.

We had our first major fight in that time, and the best part about that fight was that we managed to work through it, and experienced our first compromise. I realized that this was what marriage is about. You have to learn that it was not about putting one partner’s needs before the other, but meeting each other half way.

And that is about as soppy as it got for those three weeks with the exception of the happiest day of a girls life.

Ring Choosing Day!

It happened the day after our big fight, we had not planned on the fight but we had planned to visit the jeweler.

Being the over organized freak that I am, I chose a design of a ring and would show it to the jeweler. My ring was going to made with diamonds that he inherited from his granddad.

It was probably the best day of that entire period.

Whenever people upset me in those three weeks, I just thought of that day. And it got me through.

I guess that is what life is about, no matter what happens there are always those happy moments that make it all worthwhile

The Proposal

The way it works in Muslim Culture is that once a guy has an intention of marrying a girl, his family has to call her family and ask for her hand in marriage.

My Fiancé and I decided that we wanted to do things traditionally, because it would bring our family much joy. And I just found it all terribly romantic.

So after he asked me to marry him. Ok that’s a lie. We were hanging out and he said: "If I could marry you now, I would", and I said: "Ok, let's do it"

There was no ring and one knee scenario, but it felt all so perfect. So sincere and uncomplicated. Kind of a testament to our relationship. We have a very relaxed way of relating to each other. Its not dramatic, its just easy going and natural.

Anyway, once we both decided to get married, he went home and told his mum that she needs to make the call to mum to come over for a proposal.

I told my parents that they could expect the call. Our families were obviously extremely happy. We thankfully do not have any family issues. His parents like me and my parents like him.

At this point, I knew that we were lucky, we had a great base for a happy marriage because we have everyone's blessings.

It was a Monday when the phone call happened. My Fiancé sms'd me to say that my mum could expect the call. I was sitting on the couch next to my dad when my mum chatted on the phone to his mum. And I Remember it being extremely bitter sweet. The date was set for that Friday evening for them to come for my hand.

And that was the moment it started.

Enter Family Politics.

Tradition dictates that your grandparents, parents and siblings should be present.

I only have one grandmother left on the planet. My dad's mother. My other grandparents have already left us.

So this means that my parents had to ask their oldest brother. Both my parents only had one brother, so they each asked them to attend. In view of my mother not having her mother around, she asked her oldest sister. So to even the score, my dad asked his oldest sister.

It was all so complicated.

I mean, suddenly you have to have all this diplomacy. Other family members were slightly upset that they were not asked. And the wives of the brothers were not invited so that was a sore subject.

I was trying to figure out why it mattered so much to people to be involved in this?

Friday arrived and I was all made up in a beautiful baby pink and baby blue Panjabi (Indian Dress and pants…Skinny pants of course). It even had sparkly beads on it. I have never shone - literally - in my entire life. I am more a simple elegant type. But I felt like an Indian Bride, and it was pretty cool.

That’s when the freaking out started. I was like: "Oh my God! I am getting married! What if I am making the wrong choice!" etc etc

Eventually I calmed down, and went out to see what everyone was doing.

I was told that by my aunt to sit in my room until I was called. I was like: "Why????"

We already knew each other! It wasn't like it was some weird arranged marriage.

It was made clear to just do as I was told, so I admitted defeat and went to ponder in my room why I had to wait.

On cue, my cellphone rings and its my future husband. I answer and he says: "Babe, I am outside". So I reply, "That’s nice, I was told I cat leave my room, so someone will come get you". He responds by laughing at me and saying "Someone made you do something!".

I hate being told what to do.

Everyone arrives and is introduces and then I am accompanied to the lounge to be introduced to his entourage.

We are then seated separately. Men seated in the dining room. Ladies seated in the lounge.

This was starting to feel like the twilight zone.

Every time I wanted to pull a funny face, I just thought of my pretty hair comb and that made me smile!

So they all talk about pointless stuff. Like whose son is marrying who and which kid went off to university. And which old people are sick or who gave birth. blah blah blah. It was so boring, I almost fell asleep.

Within 5 minutes of being seated on the couch, I had decided this was not an audience that would appreciate my wit and intellect. So I stayed silent, and observed.

My mother and I kept glancing at each other, with that silent language mothers and daughters have. We were both thinking: "These people are so....mundane"

I was asked what I do. I said I work in TV production. I got some blank stares and then asked "Do you work for SABC?"

I replied and explained that I worked for independent production companies and covered all the different broadcasters at some point.

More blanks stares and a drawn out reply of "Oh, I see"

You have to understand, there are very few awe inspiring careers in the Indian community namely:

1 - Doctor (Also includes Dentists, Optometrists, Physiotherapists and speech therapists)
2 - Lawyer
3 - Accountant (As well as anything finance or business related)
4 - Teacher
5 - IT (All areas) which is a recent addition to the list

Forgive me if I forgot something, but let’s just say that Film Makers do not feature. And neither does anything in the Arts with the exception of maybe Journalists.

My Fiancé looked as baffled as me through all of this. He kept signaling to me across the great divide. The plus side is that we have now developed our own version of sign language.

Eventually I had enough, and had to escape for a few minutes, so I said I needed water and would get it myself.

My brother caught me on the way to the kitchen and laughing himself silly told me while I was sitting on the couch, I looked like I was on the menu.

And you know what? That’s how I felt. Like I was on display. What a bizarre experience.

Eventually they all ate their pies, samoosa’s and other fried stuff, followed by cake and teas.

I attempted commenting on a current issue only to get more blank stares. Gave up completely and drank my mango juice, which was really delicious.

So the talking happened and they decided we would have an engagement and my parents would come back with a date.

My mum suggested some photo’s be taken and we finally got to sit next to each other. Everyone took a pic with us and now that we were allowed to be together we chatted about how it weird it all was.

He also told me that he never imagined me wearing something so shiny.

Then his family left

My family argued lightly about a date for the engagement, and then everyone went home.

We both changed our Facebook status to being in a relationship with each other that night. I was not into changing my relationship Status every time I got involved with a new guy. So it had been blank till then.

That was cool moment for me. A commitment. To say, he is my man!

When falling asleep that night, I felt like I was Alice sliding down the rabbit hole