Married To You?

The Horrendous Talk

Walking into my parents room when they call you for a "talk" isn't some small feat. Trust me!

Let me describe my parents to you, shall I?

Meet Mr Mohammed Hussain; a tall man, though my mother's pretty short (that's where I get my munchkin style height from), he's quite skinny for a man who loves his food and he sports a hairstyle that just declares "proud Pakistani right here!", yes it's full of oil and will remind you of your ancestors black and white family photographs. He's quite blunt when speaking but has a tone of love when speaking to his family, sometimes; the man adores his grandson, Abdul Umar Hussain. He's in his early forties'. I love him nonetheless.

Now, meet the queen of the family, Mrs Yasmin Hussain. My dear mother, she’s an absolute softie. We all love her, because she knows our soft spots and what we're thinking all the time, it's magic! The woman's perfect, she's short-all her kids tower over her, she likes that though, apparently "makes her feel loved and protected" (her words not mine), she has black hair styled into a low bun. She loves her heels and will always be spotted buying new black heels! She pretends to be strict but we all know she can never continue out any punishment, because she feels too "mean"! She's also in her early forties'. She is my best friend always and I love her.

Anyway... Enough sucking up.

I walked in, only to see both of them seated waiting for me! Crap, I made them wait! Parents-1 Khadijah-0. You never make your parents wait in this family, I repeat NEVER make them wait!!

“Sorry, Abba." I quickly said, praying it prevents me from listening to the hour long lecture I apparently deserve for whatever I must have done did.

Dad laughed, "Oh Khadijah!"

Wait up, why is he not screaming? Is he okay?

"Khadijah, you know we love you right!" said my mother in a weary tone.

"Hmm." I replied determined to get to the point, I knew they were just delaying the point.

“I want you to get married to my friend's son, Mohammed Qasim."

Wow, talk about getting to the point!

"Bu-" I said only to get cut off.

"No buts, he's a good man, only three years older than you. He's a really respectable man- manners wise. He's the oldest son, one younger brother called Abid- nineteen years and a sister Aneesah-eighteen years, same age as Haleena. When are you planning to get married, huh? You’re 20. That’s old! "

Ladies and gentlemen, my father!

"Dad... ABBA, I GET IT OK!" I groaned wanting to drop this bloody conversation. I'm way too young to get married..

"Sorry Abba, for being disrespectful!" I dropped my gaze to the floor embarrassed for speaking out in such a rude way.

He stepped up towards me and hugged me, "It's okay, beti (sweetheart) but I hope you understand this decision is for you and only you." I hugged him back thanking god, he ignored my blunder! It's pretty rare that my father hugs me so I took the opportunity! But about that marriage thing, yeah. I don’t think so. I’m only 20, this is my chance to discover the world not be confined to a moody mans side.

My mother decided to jump in the conversation, "Sweetheart, he's a good man, we met him again a few times after the wedding and I even met him last Friday where he very specifically expressed his wish of marrying you."

Ahh , that's where they were gone without me... Oh well!

"You know, he came with the rishta (marriage proposal) himself." Huh, when was that?

"Dad, will he ever raise his hands on me?"

That was my only concern to be pretty honest, I will never tolerate being in a relationship with an abuser. Forget the moodiness but once you try to raise your hand on me, damn I’m out of there quicker than you can say my name!

"No, he's not like that. Trust me, he's a very good man!" Dad answered.

They both hugged me and kissed my forehead.

"Sweetheart, we love you and that’s why we want you to do this before you’re subject to the crap our family will put you through."

“But do I have to?” I muttered

My parents stared at me, blatantly ignoring my question just making me mentally roll my eyes, “Never mind, can I at least think about it?”

“Why?”

“I'd be giving my life away, dad” I muttered staring at the floor with tears stinging my eyes

“Okay, take your time but just remember this, he's a good boy, his parents are our friends and they will never differentiate between daughter and daughter in law and you will be very well looked after in their home, inshAllah your home soon”

No pressure then, yeah?

I groaned out loud.

I'm only 20 years old and my career hasn't even started properly and my parents just want me to uproot my life.. how can I agree to this? I mean, seriously, I am not cut out for the mature life, I literally live in onesies and the way I live my life is like a madwoman with no order; my diet consists of ice-cream and Lucozade (the orange flavour, anyone who drinks any other flavour is weird), I sleep in the mornings most nights, my mood swings are not appropriate to live through unless you are obligated to love me all my life such as my parents and siblings. I'm titled 'Queen of the weirdos' for a reason!

My parents walked out of their room, leaving me with my depressing and immature thoughts- my mother with a worried expression and my father with a thoughtful look stuck on his face. Good, I hope he's re-thinking this "rishta"!

I looked around; my parents room just screamed CLEAN! My mother's a serial cleaner and my father's the obliging husband! Maroon and cream bed covers on the bed and a brand new maroon lamp stuck out on the bedside drawer, definitely Zohrah's idea (my beloved sister-in-law, she loves organising bedroom colour schemes). My parent’s room bought back so much pleasant memories back; hiding under the bed from my father when we used to play hide and seek, standing in a line with my siblings with our hands out for our Eidi, getting ready for weddings with my mother and sister, getting my first phone to getting the keys to my beautiful car!

This room is the base of my childhood and that conversation is the start of my adult life! That oh-so horrendous conversation!