Brunette Punjaban and the Three Muslim Brothers

(to the tune of Goldie Locks and the Three Bears if you will)

"Dont get mad, don't be mean." This is just her story, listen and learn.

Brunette Punjaban on her quest for a husband has come across three very different Muslim brothers. Neither of the men are at home at the moment but in order to profile them, she enters each one's home.

First Brother: Lives in a tent on the side of a mountain. There is no address, you just 'happen' to it. His tent is neat. She doesn't know what he looks like because he has no pictures of himself. His room is neat. Theres a masalla in every room, but you dont need it because his house is like the mosque you can pray anywhere in it. In his closet hang (neat and pressed) shawls and shalwars, kurtas and kameezes. No hoodies, no throwbacks. She realizes very quickly this man is very religious, very pious. He eats only zabiha halal (he butchers animals behind his tent).

She feels uncomfortable. She feels she will be judged by him, unfairly.

She moves on to the third brothers house.

Third Brother: Lives large. Huge home. Pimped out ride. Very worldy kind of guy. She notices the grass hasnt been mowed. She figures the guy is miserly and has taken it upon himself to do yard duty in hopes of saving money. His 'fridge has nothing in it, but the freezer is stacked with microwave meals. Bachelor, no big deal. She knows what he looks like, immediately. He's practically wallpapered his house with pictures of himself... oh yeah, there's a small corner with pictures of his family too. She opens the door to his closet and screams finding herself amidst a graveyard, not just a couple of bones. Somethings should never be brought into the present. He's got more beauty products in his bathroom than the local drugstore (She thinks, "Maybe he's gay?") There is no sign of Islam in his house other than the Muslim name on his mailbox outside.

This place scares her, too. She feels as if she, too, will be judged and then be lost in a sea of women before her. She also feels sad in this home. He seems to have so much going for him... but yet he seems lost, too.

Let's see the first guy was too religious, the last guy was too un-religious. Isnt there a happy medium in between somewhere?

She looks around and remembers seeing another house somewhere, or was it her dream? Yes, there should be a home thats in the middle. A Muslim brother who's able to balance this world and Islam, a Muslim brother who's crazy about family and friends, a muslim brother who is decent and respectful, one who will cherish and protect his wife from the eyes of his friends, one who will keep his promise and stay true to his wife because he made a promise to her and Allah infront of his family and friends and a whole bunch of people he didnt even know. A Muslim brother with a professional career and a committment to his community.

She's just a little confused...and then slowly it dawns on her. She has yet to come across that house. She has not found it yet because she knows if she were to have found it... she'd have never let it go. That will be the end of her pursuit. She has to find that house.


...iA she will. This is not an accurate depiction of any one guy but rather a collection of stories that have been put together over the past few years. I have come to the understanding that there are three main types of men that every Muslimah will come across at one point in her life. The two extremes and the one thats just right. The 'titles' are not set in stone either. Any one of the three could at some point have been the other... and changed for better or for worse.

Finding the right person is not a matter to be taken lightly, but yet I dont believe it requires the amount of effort that people of today are putting into it either. I truly think we're overthinking the situation. Instead of leaving matters up to God, we're trying to find someone who will sign a notarized document stating this will be for life. We're not giving ourselves the chance to be able to deal with things, compromise, works things out. This is why we're becoming a generation of 40 yr old grooms and 35 yr old brides.

Look at it this way: think of marriage as a full course meal, or a sit down dinner (family style). We're too in a hurry, and we're not hungry enough. So we're picking at things and complaining. We're becoming too self-suficient, the 35 yr old bride has no financial need for a man and the 40 yr old groom is all too well known for skipping dinner and heading straight for dessert. What's he got to look forward to?

I just think we're hurting ourselves by being too picky. Maybe we should just wait...and work up an apetite. And iA when we're ready, we won't care what the dish looks like, or in some guys' cases..they'll just accept what their mothers put before them.