Now this story is not about good and bad, (necessarily), and all the particpants are certifiable human beings so if anything is amiss here then it is not my fault. I am just a story-teller.
He got quite rich and worked very very hard here and was something of a playboy so when I heard how he got his wife I had to laugh. The words “be careful what you ask for because you might get it.” come to mind. I met him before he married. I made him laugh when he took me and my last husband to the courthouse to get married when I said about my husband, “me ye mehbooba nehin houn.” Which is crappy grammer in Urdu for “I am not his girlfriend.”
He owned alot of stores and he sold to Americans, (and had become a citizen himself), so naturally he sold beer and cigarettes as well and gas and pre-packaged sandwiches and candy bars. He worked hard and played hard and he saw how free women can get here and he enjoyed that, (quite frankly), but he stayed pretty far away from FRANK! He became scared that he would not be able to find a virgin. (I had to roll my eyes at that he hadn’t been one for…ahhh nevermind that is not a part of this story.)
He wanted to marry but he wanted a pure girl who was also a stunning barbie and he sent back home word to his mother to find one like that for him. (At this point I am recalling a proverb about a man with a beautiful wife is like having a field of ripe corn by the main highway but lets get back to my tale.) So his mother sent him photos and names of girls she had chosen. He called a buddy of his, who looked like a Bollywood movie star and still lived ‘back home’. They were from a major, urban city.
“Salaam. Yes. I am good yes. So awesome to hear your brother got married! Yes…YES…hahahaha… hey Listen…(I am translating here this was all in Urdu and I am too lazy to write it right now.) Can you help me out buddy? Ok I have a list of girls to choose from my mother sent me and I want you to check them out. Yes. I know where most of them go to have fun. Yes. That place. Yes. Go there and try to talk to them as they come there. I know it might take a while. Yes do it. No. Just try to make them like you.”
They kept on talking.
Now even in the cities, where he comes from, people still don’t walk up to strange girls and ‘just start talking’ so his buddy was doing him a HUGE favour. He tried to talk to all the girls over time and they all started to flirt with his handsome friend….all but one who slapped him, HARD, for saying a word to her. His buddy further angered her by taking a photo with his cell and running away fast in case she had family around close…
He sent the photo to my friend who wrote back to his mother….”I want THIS one!”
It cost one arm and two legs but he imported her.
(This is where I start grinning….)
Yeah she was a stunning barbie all right but the FIRST THING SHE DID was lecture him about how evil selling sharabi was. She hounded him. She quoted the quran, (It turns out she was also an aulemna), She refused to have too many wedding photos taken because she “did not want to be a mindless doll for the eyes of everyone” His playboy days were OVER. If he looked at other women she quoted the quran. She never denied him anything but he heard the quran night and day until he was her servant. When she said “jump” he asked “how high?”
Ahhhhhh my friends be careful what you ask for. (Smiles to self.)