Yes. I have succumbed that low believing that this is not at all bad. Maybe I should give it a shot, eh? People found love in unexpected places.
Like during 3 months industrial training, or on the way to the supermarket or taking the train or just being neighbors, being in the same office, school, university or restaurant. Love is everywhere apparently.
But not for me. So it’s time to show some effort towards it.
I can’t say that my Mother had a bit of a hormonal problem or a nervous breakdown lately. She managed to blackmailed me and it never did work right and upgraded it to a gentle persuasion, that is this what I really wanted. Whatever would happen to you if I’m gone…she would repeat that. At least I know you’re in safe hands…[Dear God, please help me.] It’s the peer pressure of all the mothers that surround her who were boasting for great measure of some sort of celebration concerning weddings and childbirth while she was the one cooking for them.
Mother is one of the best cooks in the vicinity so whenever there’s any big event, she would do the honor. Every time she came back from any reception, you can see the clenched jaw.
I figure that someone must have said something that stung her deeply and when she can’t handle it anymore, she mustered her courage and talked to me. Slowly and just the two of us in the car while sending me back to Kuala Lumpur. It was the longest 5 minute ride I ever been.
‘If anyone should come and ask for your hand in marriage and I see him as a good person, I’m going to assume that he’s your Soul Mate and accept it on your behalf. I don’t care if he’s young or old. You understand me?’
Point taken. I should start working up my arse. This is quite scary. I really don’t want to run from the country, duplicate another identity, doing part-time in an adult movie or opening a brothel in Amsterdam. My last resort would be selling my kidney (which is in excellent shape, I can assure you that.)
I am quite upset that she cares deeply about her reputation or I might say whatever the society might say to her having an unmarried daughter rather than my own happiness. But then we live in a small village by the sea, where the population can’t be more than 5000. Words travel fast and people tend to elaborate. So generally people conforms with the rules. Well I can’t say that she’s totally irrelevant. She just doesn’t want me to die old, crippled and alone and furthermore making other people’ life difficult especially the ones that are not related to us.
But how to force another person to love you? You just can’t. Some people has all the luck in the world with all different kinds of men. Checking my phonebook contacts, the only males in it was my brothers and my colleagues. Even my Facebook friends are mostly married or having interest in other gender so there it is. I must have mingled with the wrong group, eh?
I can conclude it’s just not my time yet but Mother disagreed.
Trembling while climbing into bus, I can’t sleep during the journey which took about 10 hours. I normally perform my nap routine without further ado but with this weight upon my shoulders my thoughts keep unraveling to bad ones. What if later in life we discovered that we have nothing whatsoever in common? What if he orders me to do everything like a chauvinistic pig? What if I have to obey every single thing that other married couple do? What if I don’t agree, would he divorce me and everyone would treat me like a person that should go straight to Hell? What if he dislike traveling or Spanish? What if he wants me to stay at home bringing up his 13 kids?
But to Mother he is a good person because he prays five times a day. I am not saying that a person who prays is a bad person but praying doesn’t determine if a person is a good, quality Muslim. We have to agree on something, at least but it’s difficult since I now have really different values than most of the people around me.
Isn’t love simple and easy? One should complement the other? With the kind of people around the village or nearby, I really can’t picture me with the kind of person that Mother pictured me with.
So considering that chances are relatively low with the people I know, I thought that I should start going out and meeting other people, which I am not good at.
I am actually horrible at it, to tell the truth.
Where in the world does single people hang out in Malaysia? I mean really good people who’s first line is not ‘your place or mine?’ or anything sweet to flatter you while they checking out your measurements with beer stained breath that could kill a flock of sheep in one ‘hi’. I am not cool and sometimes I worry about that. I don’t really hang out in bars. I never been in a good one in Malaysia so I gave up. Those were the adolescent phases I went through. The years when I wanted to look cool or hang out with hip groups but unfortunately I never got that ‘cool’ part. I prefer bookstores or library (I am darn boring) where I don’t have to shout my name to fight whatever remixed techno music with the bass sound system.
Oh well, I am just me. Mother dug my roots deep and anywhere I fly to, I am still the village girl from the north.
Now where would I find new friends? Preferably males.
I could try the online advertisements. They have pictures and everything.
So I browsed several ones. Whatever that is on market today I wonder.
My first reaction was ‘focking shaite!‘
‘I am looking for a pious, obedient wife (strike one) that wears hijab (strike two) with fair complexion (strike three)’
‘I am looking for a Muslim girl from Kelantan (strike one) that wears baju kurung all the time (strike two) that is willing to stay with my family (strike three)’
‘I am looking for an open minded girl (can I consider I am one?) that loves cooking (I can cook), loves animals (I like them sometimes, when they’re not cooked), loves children (I like them better when they’re asleep) and willing to share the house with my first and second wives (strike one, two and three)
‘I am a doctor, 32 years old from Kuala Lumpur (sounds nice) I am looking for a government servant (I work for a government!) slim (err…) gentle (err…), respect elderly (I don’t argue with them. I might just poison them) independent (you kidding? I am so independent..hehehe) Send me a mail and we’ll talk.
Oh, I can just send a mail to this doctor. I’m about 30% of his imaginary Dream Girl.
But crappity crap, you have to pay for the mail service. Damn it. This thing is ruining my potential love life. Now the doctor can’t marry anyone because I am stuck here (I am not going to pay for this shit)
So back to square one.
Why am I doing this again?
2 thoughts on “Online Dating”
Funny lah birsi… Tell you what, maybe you’re right. It’s the peer pressure!
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