It seems like a lot of people I know, or that I know of, have gotten married recently. I don’t know if it’s a function of the pandemic, or of getting slightly older, or of following too many Egyptian wedding photographers on social media. Whatever it is, it’s freaking me out.
A lot of the newlyweds are young Muslims in my (social media) circles. And I don’t know, it just seems suspect to me that EVERY young Muslim in the tri-state area should find their soulmate the year after they graduate college. The timing of that seems, I think, sociologically convenient: just when reality gets Real, you have someone there. Someone to build a life with apart from the original family unit; someone who will save you from a revolving door of roommates (ESPECIALLY important in New York City.) They are your new home base, the rock upon which your algae will proliferate, the petri dish that will sustain the cloudy blooms of your existence. Or so I imagine.
As a dear friend would say: bada bing, bada boom.
To be clear, I have absolutely no doubt that people of all religions are CAPABLE of finding their soulmates, soulmates that they then proceed to marry, at a young age. For this we must look no further than Hailey Baldwin and Justin Beiber. It’s just the scale of this—the amount of marriages that have been happening lately, and more or less with the same exact timing—that makes me wonder.
Maybe every single one of these young people fell in love, like clockwork, as they were walking across the graduation stage. Maybe it had nothing to do with societal organization, religious pressure, or community norms. Maybe it is a coincidence the size of an orchestra—an orchestral coincidence—grounded in the timeless ideals of love. I wouldn’t really know either way: I’m not close to a ton of practicing Muslims, and also no one loves me.
Another reason why all of this seems mindboggling: it has taken me all of 22 years to find maybe like, 3 men I can tolerate speaking to on the reg. Y’all have really found one that you love? Are you sure it’s not the quarantine-brain[1] talking? I personally had a bad case of quarantine brain in late June.
If these marriages are grounded not in love but convenience—religious, cultural, financial, personal, or otherwise—I am not looking at them with judgment but with fascination. After all, there are and have always been all sorts of reasonable love-like arrangements made for all sorts of good reasons. Furthermore, I would love nothing more than to be a person who is practical-minded, who takes on a spouse because they are wealthy or something like that. To look at a thing (job opportunity, food option, 5-piece dresser set) or person (male prospect for marriage) and think: ah; ah yes! This is this choice that makes sense. This will do nicely indeed, when I take into consideration my goals for the future, as well as my realistic expectations of the world, its inhabitants, and the natural limits of my lifespan.
Obviously, I am nothing like that. But maybe I would like to be?
I speculate about these marriages because there is not much to go off of. The common practice of Muslims (interestingly, even ones that are not very practicing) hiding their significant others from the world until the inevitable “alhamdulillah I married my best friend today” Instagram posts shrouds the whole process in mystery.[2] Mystery that, in my opinion, is unwarranted due to the fact that there is literally nothing less mysterious than people f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ loving each other. Long before the advent of the gram, we have listened to the heartaches of our favorite singers, followed the storylines of our favorite lovelorn protagonists, and observed the trappings of love slapped upon countless canvases. Yes, love is sacred, but it is everywhere.
I sort of want to see the blueprint: young Muslims on a date. Talking about like, how bad Ramy is. Or how good, whatever. I also want to talk about the blueprint, options outside of it, the reasons we hide, respectability politics, etc. Maybe in the next newsletter, or the one after that…"?
Oh and happy New Years.
PS: Haven’t yet had the chance to make the Persian Love Cake, but when I do I will write about it.
[1] An irrational state of mind brought on by social isolation, one usually marked by a series of irreversible things said and regrettable actions done. It lasts 3 days at least, and up to 3 months.
[2] To loop in the non-Muzzies: in the Muslim world, many believe dating and pre-martial relations haram or impermissible; therefore, a lot of relationships happen On the Low until a ring is on a finger. Or more accurately, until a nikkah is signed.
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