Anyhoo, the reason for all the chaos?? Another one of my sisters got hitched - wohooo! And then another got engaged - double wohooo! And yet another came along just for the ride with two kids, a husband and a kidney stone (his, not hers) in tow - a reserved wohooo, but only because of the kidney stone. Yes, it's been a hectic few months. Thankfully, all went well (or hamdillah, as we say in this neck of the woods). As you can see from the pic above, the bride was absolutely stunning, the engaged sister (right) was as equally as radiant and 'married with children' (left) has never looked less than beautiful a day in her life. That's me in the middle. (And no, we bridesmaids were not pointing our bouquets at our sister's head because she made us wear bridesmaids dresses.)
During the whole summer, I have to relate to you the huge contradiction going on in my head as both my younger sisters prepared for their nuptials and engagement party. Some of you may recall my less than enthusiastic feeling towards such celebrations because of the onslaught of akbalik (hope you get married next) comments that I get. I thought that was bad ... until they stopped! Let me explain ...
You know, it's true what they say, you don't appreciate what you have until it's gone. Funnily, weirdly and incredibly bizarrely enough, that's how I felt about the whole akbalik thing. I despised it because I was like, 'Hello, there is more that I want to do in my life than get married, it is not one of my major goals - I want to accomplish things greater than nabbing a husband!'
Fast forward to this summer. A bunch of people were over to congratulate us all on my sister's engagement. My sisters were all there and I'm the only single one left. I was sitting next to my also single brother and then when everyone got up to leave, they all completely ignored me and started telling him akbalak. Did I mention I was standing right next to him?? Suddenly, being at the receiving end of an abalik comment wasn't so bad. I seriously felt like an expired carton of milk. I thought maybe I should get a new tattoo on my forehead, this one saying, 'Yo, still viable.'
My sister noticed this outrageous injustice of akbalik bestowment, and said politely, 'Anissa first.' Then the barrage of akbaliks began to spring forth and - again - funnily, weirdly and incredibly bizarrely enough, I was actually pleased. My brother on the other hand was where I was just a few short months ago and sick of hearing it. He joked that he was going to change his name to Akbalak.
But you won't hear any complaints from me anymore, no siree, Bob! I ain't no moldy piece of bread just yet, so feel free to call me Anissa Akbalik any old (no pun intended) time!!