The "Gora" and the "Gori"

So, for a short while Mr. Architect and I hung out almost every weekend. We would go out to eat, watch movies, play air hockey and just have a jolly good time. On one evening I invited him to a friend's hangout of mine in midtown. He brought a friend of his too. He brought his white friend. :)

And what do I say about this friend of his? He had a personality that absolutely glowed. He had traveled to many different countries (including India ;) and he even spoke a little bit of Hindi for show! He joked with my friends and I and he made us laugh. He was simply a joy to be around. When I first met this person, I didn't see a "white" guy. He could have been purple for all I cared. I just saw positive energy and happiness radiating from his extroverted personality which so very much matched up to my personality. I gave Mr. Architect some extra cool points for having such a nice friend. After all, birds of a feather flock together or something like that right? lol

Now, let's fast forward a couple weeks after that evening. My ex had called me one week and I was very disappointed to see that he hadn't changed much. At that time I told my ex that I didn't want to try again. I even blogged about it here. That Friday, I had dinner with Mr. Architect and I told him all about it. Mistake #1 on my part. He then told me about his most recent relationship. His prior relationship was actually a little more hurtful than mine but men deal with emotions differently than woman. At that moment I thought we became better friends. I thought that we would both be able to help each other get through the weird aftermath of our hurtful past. I felt a little more connected to him but all of that was about to change.

About a week or two later, my ex called again yet this time the conversation did not go so smoothly. It left me angry and hurt. And what did I do? I called Mr. Architect. Mistake #2. I should have called my bestie. I should have called my sister, my mom, my dad, anyone! I should have just cried to myself but nope. I called Mr. Architect. I called someone who was as emotionally distraught as I was!

Mr. Architect came and saw me immediately which was incredibly sweet. But, he wasn't really good at listening to me. In a moment of fury and anger I said something along the lines of, "I'm done with Indian guys! I'm going to start dating white guys!" (I always think of the group of white Sikhs in New Mexico and Arizona during these times. How great would it be get a guy with all of the religious and spiritual goodness and without all of the cultural baggage and drama!?) Mr. Architect felt the need to correct me and state that a relationship with a white guy would never last and that I can only marry an Indian in order to have a successful relationship. Excuse me????

Now here comes the best part. Are you ready for it? We went out to eat and while at the restaurant he was texting someone. He was texting for a while. Remember in my last blog when he had ignored a phone call because he was on a "date" with me. I was already in a negative state of mind and I was surprised that he spent so long texting while we were having dinner. I asked him who he was texting. He didn't answer and changed the topic. I asked him again. He finally said, "Oh, just this white girl who messaged me on that online dating website."

No. He. Didn't.

Let's skip over the fact that he openly told me that he was talking to another girl. Apparently we were just friends at this point and nothing more. On top of that, it had to be a white girl??? And that too, hours after he gave me his opinion about successful relationships? When I questioned him about this, he said he was just responding to her and that he hadn't met her. Yet. In that moment I understood everything. He probably didn't want a relationship with her or me or anyone to be honest. He probably wanted something else from her and it made me sick to my stomach.

Many guys from India and other countries to be honest (not all but many) come to the U.S. and in their mind dating and doing a white girl is a great time pass. When it is time to get married however, they will find a girl of their own race. Again, I'm not trying to generalize and I hope I'm wrong but I've seen and heard of this phenomenon happen a lot. It was happening right in front of me. What makes me mad is this. . . . I get it that everyone has their preferences. I myself love chocolate ice cream and some like vanilla and there is nothing wrong with that. I know a lot of Indian guys who were born and raised in America who have married white girls. I don't think there is anything wrong with that. If they fall in love with that girl, they should marry that girl regardless of her race!! But then there are the guys who think of white girls as only good for something else and then go back and marry the Indian girl just to please their parents and that is actually very inhumane if you ask me. Women are women no matter what race or religion and one race should not be characterized as good for this good for that. I get it that people are always attracted to something that is outside of their reach but gosh, these approaches just don't sit right with me.

The reverse can be said too. Indian woman are seen as being exotic and beautiful to all other races except Indian men. When an Indian man sees an Indian woman he probably sees a cook, a maid, and a caretaker for his parents. But when a white man sees an Indian woman he sees an exotic woman from the land that invented Kama Sutra. ;) And to be honest, I'd rather be with the white man that dreams of being with an Indian woman than to be with the Indian man that dreams about being with the white woman. At the end of the day, one just needs to be feel loved and appreciated and not taken for granted. Is it that hard?

That evening was the last time that I saw Mr. Architect. :( Was he a bad person? No, not at all. He had many many good qualities and just a few other confusing qualities which we all have. In fact, that evening, that friendship had to die in order for a new one to blossom. That evening there was only one person who could really console me with everything that I had just heard and experienced. That evening I reached out to Mr. Architect's white friend. :)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

What my parents never told me . . .

Breast Milk was not the Best Milk

The Unplanned Planned C-Section