Enjoy! Sue x
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Part 2
A white piece of paper neatly folded on the top of my dressing table caught my attention as I savoured waking up late for once. I reached for the paper and made myself comfortable before I proceeded to open it. After a few minutes of reading my eyebrows were in a slightly elevated position.
I had heard of these “Marriage CVs” from my older cousins but I’d never quite anticipated this. Just as one would attract employers with their education and skills CV, a marriage CV was designed to attract potential partners. I’d seen my cousin do hers and when she’d started writing about her genealogy from both her mothers and fathers side I’d questioned her on it. “Don’t question it,” she’d replied as she typed away aggressively on her laptop and pressed her mum to remember her village name in Bangladesh.
This CV in front of me had everything going for it; it had the guy’s name, date of birth, height, genealogy, education background, employment, hobbies, and requirements in a wife. It had everything.
The CV stated the name of this man was Angoor Miah. That actually translated into English as Grape Mister. I should’ve stopped reading at that but my curiosity got the better of me and so I continued. Angoor was 30 according to my calculations and “fit” as he stated it. As I read on I found out he was one of 9 children, 5 of whom were girls. This was getting more bizarre by the second.
The “seeking in a partner..” paragraph was what really caught my attention though. It read, “I am seeking a kind, gentle, sweet soul as a wife who will look after me and mother my future children. Must be well groomed at all times and be able to cook and clean. Must also enjoy long walks to the supermarket and it is preferred she speak at least basic English.” This Grape clearly wasn’t asking for too much(!).
Overleaf was a photo attached of him, before I had the chance to see how he looked Dawoud texted that I should be getting ready as the guests would be arriving in a few minutes. What difference would it make if I didn’t see his picture now? I’d get to see him in the flesh in a few minutes so I opted to defer seeing him until then. Looking into my wardrobe was how Leyla found me a few minutes later.
Everything was moving so fast and I quickly texted my best friend, Deena telling her we needed an urgent meeting at our local cafe. I could hear thunderous noises coming from below and bored of waiting in my room I went downstairs to see what was going on.
After climbing the third flight of stairs I gasped in shock. Woah! It took a few moments for the surprise to register in my brain as I gazed around the room.
It was as if the living room glistened, the floor was mopped till you could see new layers of wood emerging. All the furniture was aligned perfectly and the cushions looking all pumped and fluffy. The biggest shocker had to be my family however. To the right I actually witnessed my brother Dawoud awake and out of bed; not only that but he was dressed in smart clothes! His hair was neatly brushed to the side revealing his hazel eyes for once.
To the left was my spoilt sixteen year old sister, Leyla with a mop in hand. Her earlier smugness at the prospect of ridding of me had disappeared and was replaced with a scowl on her face.
“This better be worth it!” she said through gritted teeth. Dad was perched like a pigeon on top of the sofa drilling in screws so he could put up a painting bought three months prior, a task even mum had difficultly in making him do.
My whole family was working hard to get this right the first time round it seemed and suddenly the enormity of what was to come weighed down on me.
I felt suffocated...i couldn’t do this! I was still dad’s little girl...oh no. I needed to clear things up with mum..
Just then, as always, the door bell rang signalling the arrival of the awaited Grape family.
Fiddlesticks! I could hear Mum already greeting them and here I was standing in the very room they were able to enter. They weren’t meant to see me until Mum called for me! Just as I heard the first guest enter the room I grabbed my headscarf and covered my faith. I crouched down and scurried like a mouse out of the room, nearly crashing into the body of the second guest.
I hurried into the store room and stayed there until I was sure everyone was seated in the living room. A sigh escaped my lips as I congratulated myself on my quick thinking. I decided to make good use of my hidden location to hear what was going on in the living room.
“Salam! We’re so glad you could all come today, take a seat,” I could hear my Mum take charge from my Dad and do the introductions.
“Oh thank you, you have such a great house. Thank you for inviting us today” I presumed this was Grape’s Mum.
Slowly edging the store room door open, I snuck out and peered into the living room discreetly. Seated on the smaller sofa were my parents and Grape’s mother, on the larger sofa was Grape, his father, and one of his elder sisters.
Now, I was a firm believer in the saying “beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder” but this guy had me doubting the very notion.
Angoor sat there wearing a silk dark green suit with red stripes all over it. The buttons of his suit were overstretched and hanging by a thread and there were large sweat patches on his armpits. I could feel something coming up my throat and quickly looked away from his beer belly. His shirt was buttoned right to the top which only sought to exaggerate his double chin. His chin was layered like an American burger, my obese brother’s chin a British burger in comparison. His face shone with perspiration as if his mum had used up a whole tub of Vaseline (petroleum jelly).
His hair fashioned like a curtain on his forehead looked as if it had had the same treatment as his face and I felt repulsed just seeing a bead of sweat run down the bridge of his nose. Angoor looked right at home; one word from my mum and I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to have his feet up on the coffee table.
I couldn’t be in the same room as this man let alone marry him! The mere thought of staying in a room with him for five minutes put me off of breathing. How was I to survive this evening?
“So what do you do for a living, Son?” I heard my dad ask.
“Sir, I am a brain surgeon. Heee heee heee” His laugh was a mixture of hiccups and very feminine giggles.
Oh dear God, make me deaf.
“OI, move out the way” grunted my sister way too loudly as she came towards the living room with a tray filled with Asian delicacies. It seemed all the chores had fallen to Leyla with Mum entertaining the guests – at least something good had come out of this arrangement.
I very childishly pushed her into the living room, causing her to slightly trip and dashed upstairs before anyone noticed me standing there. I would just have to figure out on my own how to get over this evening as quickly as possible.