Becoming a Native?

I can’t believe I asked a girl who I’ve never met to marry me! I mean the only reason I have a crush on her is because she is my first ever fan, and I’m thinking, ‘Wow, what a great biography it would make!’ When some reporter asks me years later, after I’m rich and famous, ‘how did you meet your wife?’ And I will say, ‘Well, I wrote this story that knocked her stockings off without taking off her shoes…’ 🙂

Am I seriously asking her to marry me?

I think I’ve stayed in Nepal too long! I speak their language. I behave like them. I’m what you would call a participant observer in anthropology. I think I’ve gone beyond being just a filmmaker to think and behave like the people I’m filming. I had to, so I could understand their cultures better, and I think it will be a good film about love and marriage in Nepal.

And here, you can so easily get married. They have the arranged marriage system so deeply entrenched in their cultures that even though ‘love’ marriages are so popular among the youth, strangers can still easily get married to each other. All it takes is for you to paint her forehead with red vermilion powder, sindur, and she’s your wife. I think the notion here is that the moment you sleep with a girl, she automatically becomes your wife. Actually, the application of sindur is a symbolic breaking of a girl’s virginity, because she parts her hair to create a ‘virtual vagina’ and the man paints that part red.

I get offered a woman once every week, or a girl pops the question so easily to me so often (amazing how bold the girls are!) that I’ve begun to think it’s the same the world over.

If I was in Uganda, I wouldn’t have even mentioned to this girl that I have a crush on her, but now I have and gone so far as to say ‘Will you marry me?’

Okay, wait a minute. What you write in these blogs, are they honest or are they a clever way of getting into the girl’s pants?

Well, she lives a thousand miles away, so this certainly can’t be a clever way to get into her pants, unless I’m prepared to pay a thousand dollars for an air ticket to go to wherever to get laid. And why would I do that?

But does that make them honest or is it that you miss writing prose so much (because of the bloody documentary you are making) that you are actually trying to play a character in one of your creepy stories? And for the moment these blogs are the only chance you’ve got to write prose.

Come to think of it, how do people date online? Because I’m thinking that I can date this girl online, can’t I? Let’s see, if you met a girl in real life, you’d ask her, can’ we go to the movies? And she says, ‘Friday is cool’, so you take out to the nearest Cineplex, you deliberately choose a boring movie so that you can get an excuse to eat her lips in the darkness.

But what happens when you meet her online? You are in your part of the world, and she is in hers a million miles away, and you ask her, ‘hey, there is this great movie showing in YouTube, let’s watch it!’ So click click click, you watch the movie – definitely a trashy five minute youtube comic – and after the movie is over, what do you do? How do you kiss her? Do you kiss her photo on your desktop and ask her to do the same to your photo?

Might be a nice way to date. No expenses. No taxi fares. No condoms. Just say, let’s meet at this website, and you both go there, or you get tired of chatting in Facebook and you go to yahoo messenger to have a quick chat over a cup of coffee…. crap!

Has the internet made our dating easier or harder? It certainly is very boring, this internet dating thing. Very unreal.

I better look for those two documentaries they recently made about facebook. Whatever their names are.

I’m writing this blog at the same time talking to the girl, making the indecent proposal, and she says she is speechless, and doesn’t know how to respond to my proposal. Of course who would want to say anything in response to such a ducked up idea? (ducked up, my friend Joseph will tell you 😮 )

I think I told her so that I can embarrass myself so much that I would feel ashamed of myself every time I thought about her in that manner. The only problem is that she is being so nice and polite about it that she is laughing it off and that’s not making my plans work.

A*hole – stop making a duck out of yourself. I can’t believe this internet thing. I should go back to writing such stuff in my secret diary where no one will ever read them. But I know now that I’ve spoken it out aloud, I’ll get over the crush and go back to the business of editing the doc without a lot of distractions. There’s already three fronts distracting me – the cold, the fund, the wheelchair guy, Felistas, and now her! – that actually makes it five.

I haven’t mentioned her name in this blog. Funny. Maybe I’m trying to protect her honor, for in Nepal, if a man so much as proposes to a girl, and the world gets to know about it, even if the girl says no, her honor would be ruined! It still happens in the rural areas, so by not mentioning her name, am I trying to protect her honor?

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