Commitment

Kalsuma had met so many different kinds of guys she could write a novel about which types of men were unsuitable and should be avoided by a girl looking for commitment.  

In the beginning she had courted the professional ones. The architects, lawyers and bankers. These were fairly good looking prospects, mainly on the short side because she was under the impression that she, being 5’3, was a short Bengali girl. She soon found out that she was in fact not short, but quite tall for a Bengali and her dates were unhappy that she was the same height as them or almost as tall as them. 

You are not as much of a midget as I thought you would be one of her first ever dates told her. They never saw each other again.  It might have been to do with her height but it might have been how she kept accidentally gushing about her crush on Tom Cruise over dinner. It was her nerves and she was trying to assure him that she didn’t care about height, but understandably he didn’t take it too well.  

So she began to date taller professionals, or tried to. However, the taller professionals believed they were male supermodels, their arrogance and self-importance was unparalleled. You would think they were the brothers of Chris Hemsworth. They had successful careers, height and education and that made them uber catches. They were not going to date a girl on the average to short side, who was pretty but not fair, so not outstandingly beautiful according to Bengali standards.  Since they had successful careers they were looking for women who dressed as though they were going to enter beauty pageants. They were looking for YouTube make up tutorial stars who were as fair as milk and wore the porcelain shade of foundation, so that didn’t go well.

Next she tried dating non professionals, who didn’t have a university education but had good stable careers, because she thought they would be less arrogant. This didn’t work out either. She was too educated for them. She had two degrees and that was threatening, on top of that they could get a light skinned girl who would be meek and obedient and open to living at home with their parents forever.  They didn’t care for a girl who clearly thought she was above other Bengalis; she read fiction, watched ballet and went to classical music concerts! The less educated girls without such upstart hobbies would be a much better match. She removed the Masters degree from her biodata and her online dating profile. 

Tired of going from tall to short to educated to less educated she thought the nerds would be a fail-safe option.  They may not be attractive from the outset but surely these boys would be more sensitive and kind and would provide her with the dependability and security she was looking for.

The dorky boys put her to sleep. These were not your cute, glasses wearing nerds who had hidden personalities behind the outdated outfits, and were quirky with a great sense of humour.  No, these were nerds who followed her around like a puppy; they thought she wanted an obedient lapdog, they had no opinion of their own and decided to match all their opinions to hers as they thought this would impress her. 

It may have impressed one of the girls who wanted to be worshipped and sought a man who would treat her like a princess, but all she wanted was an equal who she could share a conversation with without falling asleep, or could bravely walk together into a subway station without the fear of being handed a plastic flower from a junk shop, because he thought he was Shahrukh Khan.

The dorks frightened her into considering the metrosexual, body fixated city types. However this breed was never to her taste and it barely got beyond phone conversations as every word coming out of their egotistical mouths made her cringe.  Often they were men who believed themselves to be good looking and although some were actually attractive, once they spoke those good looks melted into a far distant horizon since they thought insulting a girl was the way forward for modern flirting. 

One date from London told her she was the type that would go to London and visit Hyde park while he hated the west, or the central area, or anywhere where the 'white folk' lived and he could only be found walking in Victoria Park.  Kalsuma tried to argue that she loved Victoria park and humorously pointed out it was actually a hipster area full of a lot of these 'white people', but he quickly told her not to bother trying to impress him by saying she liked to walk in 'his ends'. 

So she stopped, because she couldn’t handle attempting to impress a London boy. She would have to wear a few more layers of makeup, she would have to wear false eyelashes all day and possibly wear three layers of head scarves, as the Londoners were mostly devout with impeccable sense of style.  Nor could she spend all her days dressed up in finery in order to haunt dessert parlours, shisha cafes and grilled meat restaurants. She enjoyed all of these places but in moderation and in combination with other social outings.

When the metrosexual city boys were too much to handle she dated the non-religious liberal boys.  These guys believed being a liberal Bengali meant enjoying sex outside of marriage.  If she didn’t sleep with them after at least the second date there was no way they were going to introduce her to their mothers, who she would be living with post-marriage. 

They were keen to go travelling abroad to get to know her better because they could stay in hotels together and have sex. They loved that she lived alone because they could stay over and have sex, and since she didn’t live with her parents she must have been disgraced in society somehow, which meant more sex for them. They loved that she didn’t wear a headscarf because she would surely be the type of girl who liked sex. They were thrilled that she had studied Journalism and had a non traditional job because it meant she was different and would be a girl who definitely enjoyed a lot of sex. 

When she explained that being liberal and not wearing a scarf didn’t mean that she wanted sex before marriage any more than hijabi girls, one date told her, ‘even girls in scarves are having sex with their boyfriends before marriage, why are you so uptight and backwards?! You are such an aunty!’

Kalsuma tried to explain that she wanted to fall in love first, and she believed sex was a sacred act, so she wanted to be intimate with someone only after marriage, but she received a look that said when you sleep with me you will fall in love baby.

Kalsuma became sickened by the attitude of these so called liberal guys she was meeting.  Finally she turned to the religious boys.  Surely they would be humble and have good morals and principles and that was exactly what she was looking for. 

Some were traditionally religious; they prayed five times a day, watched the YouTube Muftis, wanted to complete half their deen by getting married and dreamed of going on Umrah for their honeymoon.  They were too religious for her. They talked about their fantasies of waking up for Fajr together and getting closer to the deen together.  She wasn’t ready to go on Maghrib prayer dates, dhikr dates and retreats.  She believed in God and tried to complete her prayers but she was nowhere near becoming a part of the league of extraordinary lovers who met for prayer. 

Perhaps the boys who were somewhat religious but also liberal in thought would be the ideal mix? This opened up her eyes to another world of confused souls and people struggling with their identity.  She met the dates who prayed five times, never missed a fast in Ramadan, but also got drunk with colleagues on Friday nights and criticized her for not having a favourite between red and white wine. 

‘Alhamdullilah this Ramadan I took two weeks off work and never missed a Tarawih prayer,’ one of these well integrated into western society but devout Muslim dates told her, while he scanned the beer list as they ordered dinner.  ‘Oh you eat halal?’ He asked her condescendingly as she searched the menu looking for something which didn’t have meat. She wanted to apologise for being such a confusing person herself, not being fun and not integrating into western society, not drinking, not smoking, not trying drugs or clubbing and still eating halal, yet also headbanging to rock music and not remembering when she had last prayed.  She didn’t get the chance.  

He kept trying to touch her hands, then thighs, then the small of her back and the date ended with him trying to kiss her, tongues and all, as he angrily spluttered, ‘so traditional, such a grandma’, because she pursed her lips, turned her face away and mumbled, ‘maybe we should get to know each other a little more?’  How could she explain that she didn’t wear a scarf and wasn’t religious, but would prefer not to be mauled?

Finally she resorted to ignoring looks altogether, their vocation didn’t matter either, nor conversation. ‘I simply want to date someone who I can tolerate and don't want to punch in the face within three minutes of meeting them’, she had told her flatmate Rumi.