Friday, August 26


This actually happened sometime last week but I've no idea why I didn't blog it then. Perhaps due to its sensitivity at the time, I don’t know. Anyway, it turned out that my makeshift pimps, The Hussains, had yet another potential rishta lined up for me (the previous one, as predicted, seems to have fizzled out), in particular a doctor friend of a friend. So, we passed our number and waited for the call.

A few days later, the potential's mother rung mine. The conversation went something like this, although bear in mind stuff has been edited and paraphrased for dramatic effect:

(…cue introductory preamble…)

Her: So… What does your son do?
My Mum: He works in Computing in a Hedge Fund.
Her: Oh… We were actually looking for a doctor.
My Mum: Oh. Right. Well he’s not a doctor. Umm…

(…cue ten minute friendly chat…)

Her: So we should keep in touch.
My Mum: Sure. Drop by when you’re in the area.
Her: Yes. And hey, if you know of any doctors let me know. I’ll do the same for you – what exactly are you looking for? Any career requirements?
My Mum: Nah. We don’t care about stuff like that. I guess we’d like someone who prays five times a day since everyone in the family does the same.
Her: Whaaaaat? Prayer? Huh?

(…cue standard conversation closers…)

Ok, we should note that the potential is a doctor herself, but still. Even giving the benefit of the doubt and assuming a doctor was required for practical more than snobby reasons, it’s still a bit poo.

Hey, it was funny more than anything else. Go me.