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Posts tagged ‘Muslim’

D8

So I survived my date. I’m going to try and write down as much as I remember so I can look back and scrutinize this later!

When I described the meet-up as a date, my mum was horrified. I asked her why she was reacting like this and what exactly she thought a date entailed. “Doesn’t it include kissy-wissy stuff?” – I genuinely face-palmed and assured her that everyone would be on their best behaviour.

Now the dude, let’s call him Mr K. He was travelling from Stoke to London which is a lot of effort so he got brownie points for that straight away. I met him at Euston and beat him there so we played ‘who can spot the other first?’. I told him I was near the information desk but actually I was a few metres away so I could run if I needed to. Safety first, ladies! But I spotted him and he did not look like an axe murderer so I approached him.

I had no idea how I was going to greet him. In the hour or so it took me to get to Euston, I stress farted several times. I also found myself becoming self conscious over really stupid things like how I walk and if my lips looked chapped. My mind was basically like this:

But I managed to pull myself together. I even napped a bit on the tube. The soundtrack to my journey was “Back to love” by Chris Brown because apparently I am a sap.

When I saw him, he hugged me and I responded on instinct. Thank god he took care of that decision because I would have been just stood there awkwardly if it was left to me. Or worse, gone in with a handshake as if it was a work meeting. Anyway the hug broke the ice and we said hi and stuff and starting discussing Avengers End Game (will post about that separately!).

I’ve been talking to him on and off for over a year but it’s been predominantly over whatsapp. We didn’t do phonecalls or videochats though I’ve received the occasional voice message so I was taken aback when I heard him speak. I should have put two and two together. He’s from Stoke. He’s a Northern boy so he’s going to have an accent. It was actually pretty charming.

I think the whole day could be summarised as “City girl meets Northern boy”. It was obvious he’s not from London. He let people off the tube first; he asked how literally everyone was; he didn’t walk aggressively fast.  In comparison I must have looked like a pushy angry Londoner lol. One of thing he said that cracked me up was when he said “wow everything is contactless in London”.

We made our way to Piccadilly Circus where he bought snacks and then we went to the theatre to watch Book of Mormon. He had an umbrella with him and joked that he’d probably leave it behind. I said I’d remind him (famous last words).

I’d been warned several times about Book of Mormon, that it was offensive and controversial. Those warnings were well deserved but I enjoyed it anyway. It was witty and crude. If I saw it online, I probably wouldn’t bat an eyelid but hearing it live in an audience of well mannered people made it shocking. We had awesome seats which Mr K paid for; I’m still trying to convince him to let me pay for my own ticket. He promised he would as long as I let him pay for dinner (which I did after some convincing). He sat quite close to me during the show and it didn’t feel awkward which is something.

Afterwards we went to Masala Zone for dinner. We have different attitudes towards food which to be fair is not surprising given I am annoying person to eat with i.e. I eat boring plain food and am not very experimental whereas he is a lot more foody and really enjoys eating. I eat to live, not live to eat, though my weighing scales may dispute that. During dinner, we had a proper chance to talk. It was nice that we could gloss over the bullshit opening questions because we already know each other. And it was nice to have this conversation in real life, and to be able to match words with a voice and face and gestures. Made it all real.

After dinner, we went to Snowflake Gelato for desert and I got chocolate ice cream *grin* and he got an Eton Mess. This was my favourite part of the evening because it felt like we were sitting in a little bubble and I got to ask him the real stuff… if I was what he expected, if it all felt weird, if he was happy we met. He answered pretty positively. I like that he didn’t try any mushy stuff like say he thought I was pretty or any other crap. Am super non-receptive to that.

It was here that the umbrella got left. Face palm.

We then headed to Oxford circus and parted ways. I hugged him – I had to to tip toe which he found amusing. Whilst I got home fine, turns out he couldn’t get a train home so was stranded for a while. He eventually took a train to another destination and got his cousin to drive him home. This must have been an expensive date for him…

After I got home, I got a mini interrogation from my mum. She went a lot easier on me than I expected… Are you okay? (I made it home, didn’t I?!) Did you like him? (Yes I did) Did he like you? (I think so) Will you see him again? (Yes most likely)

We’ve spoken a bit since then and one of the things that has cropped up is that he is a specific type of Shia Muslim whereas I’m technically a Sunni Muslim. These labels mean very little to me. I think they’re a minor issue for my parents but ultimately if I liked someone enough, they’d be fine with it. The rest of my family would likely kick up a fuss but I’m less bothered about that. Unfortunately my “Sunni-ness” might be problematic for his family. Call me egotistical, but I never expected to be a problem for anyone’s family! Either way, we both agreed to cross that bridge if and when it arose.

Why can’t anything be simple?!

 

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Hello boys.

So I joined Minder – for those that don’t know what this is – it’s “Muslim Tinder”. Quite frankly that sounds like a paradox but I thought what the heck. Just like Tinder you take a peep at someone’s pics and bio and if they sound aight you swipe right. Otherwise you swipe left. If the other person also swipes right for you, then you can start a conversation. So that’s the mechanics… here’s what I have observed from my experience so far:

  • Is it Mind-er or Min-der? And if it’s Mind-er, that doesn’t rhyme with Tinder. This frustrates me.
  • Literally every guy says he goes to the gym and loves to travel… like every single one.
  • 90% of these guys say they are 6 foot or taller. Now I dunno if I’ve clicked something saying I only want tall guys (if I have, I desperately want to untick it) but surely everyone can’t be this tall.
  • I am such a bitch. I swipe left so much. I am a terrible human being.
  • I’ve got a type. The app stores the people you’ve had conversations with and if you put all my guy’s pictures together, they’re practically the same person. It would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so funny – but hey at least I know what I’m attracted to? Beards and swishy hair? God I am letting the female race down.
  • Things that will instantly make me swipe left: shirtless pictures, pictures of guys at the gym, shameless pictures of muscles, guys wearing really unbuttoned or low cut shirts, guys with earrings, guys doing shisha, guys wearing their trousers too low, guys taking pictures in bed
  • Okay not all of the muscle is bad. Some of these guys have nice arms.
  • Conversations are weird. I dunno what’s wrong with me – when I engage it’s like I’m actively trying to make them run away just to see who will stick around. Sarcasm abounds. One person said I had a “cute, nerdy look” and I said “is that a compliment or a veiled insult?”. I think he got scared.
  • Just because someone looks innocent does not mean they are innocent. One supposedly friendly looking guy asked for my thoughts on buttsex within the first 5 minutes. That promptly ended that conversation.
  • In case there was any doubt, guys are super interested in sex. Like I get it, it’s important, but there is MORE TO EXPLORE. I can’t even post some of the stuff I’ve been on the receiving end over the last few weeks but here’s a sample:
    • “If you were my wife, you wouldn’t be able to walk”
    • “Do you like choking?”
    • “Have you heard of Mia Khalifa?” <- If you don’t know who she is, for the love of god don’t Google her.
    • “I’m trying to imagine what kind of roleplay you’d be into”

THIS IS NOT OKAY. At all.

Over and Out!

 

 

104. Excuse my French but I’m in France

I’M JUST SAYIN’

This is what I should have posted several days ago but better late than never eh. So as I’ve banged on and on about, I went to Paris this weekend for my cousin’s wedding. SO much happened even within a short amount of time but these were some of the high/low lights:

Travelling
The train station was an hour and a half away from the house we were staying at and the house was another hour away from the venue. Who came up with this fabulous planning?- I don’t know- but my god did we do a lot of driving. It was really annoying too because it was so hot in the car that our make up was melting.

The House
I have family all of the world, literally at least one representative from every continent attended this wedding and we were ALL, yes ALL, housed in this one place. It was absolutely stunning, a huge paradise in the middle of nowhere but it still only had 5 bedrooms and there were 31 of us. Yeah you can imagine that not many of us slept on beds. What’s worse was that there were only 3 bathrooms so goodbye privacy. People were hiding behind beds and doors when they were changing but eventually we all just gave up. Trust me when I say that I have seen enough aunty’s stomachs for a lifetime.

Drama
If you know anything about asian weddings, you know that they can’t happen without some drama. This occasion was no exception. My Khala aka. my mum’s sister and bride’s mother is a very emotional person and when the Nikkah (the closest to vows Muslims get) finished, she promptly passed out and I was the idiot who had to run to the guy’s section and get help. Then the crying commenced. It was like a chain reaction. The bride started weeping, and then her sister started which set my mum off and next thing I know my own eyes were wet.

The Rush
There were three events in two days and I was there for two nights. Everything was rushed. As soon as I arrived (literally as soon as I got my foot in the door), I was told to get ready and change my clothes but I was knackered and couldn’t be asked so I just stayed in my jeans. I eventually got the energy to change for the second event but I wore no make up. I sorted things out for the third though.
For the journey home, I caught a very early train back to London and because of the timings and distance from the venue, I actually didn’t sleep for 26 hours. It’s always been on my list of things to do before I die to pull an all nighter but I never thought it would be under those circumstances…

Language Problems
There were many. I speak English, understand Urdu but speak it to a below average standard whereas the rest of them are fluent in French and speak better Urdu than me. Basically there were three languages flying around the whole time and it got hella confusing.

Heels
I fucking hate heels. I wore them for two days straight and it murdered my feet. I genuinely limped home. Don’t do it!

Dancing
In case you don’t know, I love to dance… in private. I’m absolutely terrible but I enjoy practising my balle balle and Beyonce booty shake… in private…because you know I’m brown and dancing unashamedly would ruin my reputation. Now at any other wedding I would never be expected to dance. Come a family member’s wedding however and suddenly my mum is actively telling me to join in. Great! I’m sorry but I am not a closet professional dancer. Let me eat my biryani in peace.

I know this all sounds like a huge rant but it was a wonderful experience really. My cousin looked beautiful (though she won’t let me put up any pics of her yet -_-) and it was amazing to be part of such a Punjabi energetic wedding.

Without further ado, here are some pictures. More may be added later.

Over and Out!

Note: If you live under a rock and don’t understand the title and first line, it’s from ‘Ninjas’ in Paris.

86. Stop dragging religion into it.

I like to keep this blog light hearted and non political but I can’t not mention today’s events. When my dad told me there were men running around in South London with machetes, I thought he was having me on. Unfortunately he wasn’t. In case you don’t know, these men hacked away at a solider with meat cleavers and knives in broad daylight and dumped his body in the street. They were eventually shot by the police.

It is sad to say that we now live in a society where shootings and explosions are just part of the news but the barbaric nature of today’s events and the fact that it happened in England, in the capital, in the bloody afternoon has sparked national outrage. This was not just violence. This was insanity.

But there is more to this issue that bothers me… When I heard the news, I was thinking ‘please don’t let them be (so called) Muslims’ or this will get much much worse. Unfortunately they were and ‘lo and behold, their actions were labelled a ‘terrorist act’.

Why wasn’t it reported as murder?! Ohhh because they said they said ‘Allahu Akbar‘ before committing a heinous crime. Please tell me more about how they’re fighting for a religious cause.

You might ask: Who cares what it is labelled as?

Well when the media report a murder, people respond with sympathy for the victims and they seek punishment for the criminals. Nobody says let’s go get revenge personally and hurt someone else to even the score. But when the media reports a terrorist act, people feel threatened and some decide that attack is the best form of defense.

I heard someone say on the radio that they thought white men should go out tomorrow and hurt the first woman wearing a hijab. If he’s allowed to say that, then I’m allowed to call this guy a hypocritical arsehole. Oh you’re so upset about what those guys did… so you think lots of other people should go out and engage in the same mindless behaviour… yeah that makes so much sense.

I recognize that this is a very extreme example but my point is that these comments would never have been made if this crime was just called what it was: murder.

Nothing else.