Convincement: the action of convincing or the state of being convinced.

Google shows the meaning of convincement as this. So simple, logical and understandable. But for me, it is nothing less than a war. A war between my parents and me that kicks off when I mention my ardent wish to go abroad, to study and settle there for the rest of my life. 

Indians dreaming themselves in a foreign country with the luxury they crave for isn’t something new. It has been evident since the year Hollywood movies began telecasting on Indian channels. The influence of these films can be marked on a broad margin, making the dreams of many Indian youngsters expand wider and wider. 

I always admire the foreign people- their lifestyle, their dress, their food, their culture, everything. The first time I saw Home Alone, I wanted nothing but to be Alex so that I could be in that house in Illinois with the blanket of snow covering my house during Christmas, build a snowman and do whatever I wanted without the fear of a chappal slap, something all Indians are over familiar with. After witnessing coming of age movies, I just wanted to get out of my country and join the party with smoke rings, beer bottles and lewd sounds because I watched those movies when my hormones were all giddied up. And now that I have seen The Duke of Hastings from Bridgerton, I just want to get a decent job and fly away to a foreign country, date and if lucky, marry a Regé-Jean Page doppelganger and settle as long as my heart beats. 

Am I asking for too much? 

No!

My heart says no but my brain flips the bird at me, as my brain knows my parents better than my mind. They will not allow me to go alone. Even if I'm going to stand on the edge of a cliff and blackmail them to say yes, I can expect the antonym of yes rolling off their tongues. They will not allow me to go alone. Period. 

Why? Simple- what will people say? 

What will people say when they allow me to go alone? Will I get a good proposal if the guy's family knows I studied abroad because for all those boomers know is foreign countries are equal to drugs, sex and party and not self-discovery, self-sufficient and self-reliance? And above all, I'm a Muslimah. Not so orthodox but still religious, following the basic principles of Islam as told by Allah and Prophet Muhammad.

Determined not to take a step back, I thrive to take big steps to my dream. I can't let it go. I can't let it shatter. I can't as my dreams are not something that fades away into thin air when I wake up from my slumber. In fact, it just gets bigger and stronger with every breathing of mine as it's my life. And in no way I'm going to stop breathing and stop dreaming, as I think it's better to die rather than not to dream.

My life loves me a lot. And that's why I'm facing problems one after one, more like my life is throwing problems right on my face. While I'm trying to stand up for myself, there comes my worst nightmare in the form of wedding bells. A marriage proposal. 

An architect working in New Zealand, our native but born and brought up in Dubai. Good family background, parent's reputation are great as they are retired teachers of a famous Dubai school, and so is that guy's. 

What more do my parents want? 

I really want to turn a deaf ear but the moment my ear catches the word 'New Zealand', my dreamland, an improper and purely selfish idea pops in my head. 

If I'm going to marry this guy, I can go with him to New Zealand, find a job, be independent and settle there for eternity. That way, I won't be alone, there will be someone- not just someone but my husband with me and my relatives and neighbors can't gossip about me having one night stand every night. There, my parent's worries vanish into thin air!

Not a bad idea though. I'm ready to take any risks to meet my dreams. I'm ready for anything, everything.
I thought to myself and when my parents ask about my decision, I give them a perfunctory nod. They all erupt into a joyous moment by imagining their beloved daughter in a bridal dress with mehendi temporarily tattooed on her hands.

I take a look at his photo the matchmaker gave my father. Dusky, tall, well built and has a perfect masculine body like 1998 Brad Pitt, upturned eyes like Ian Somerhalder but in onyx, pointed nose like Harry Styles and full lips like Jensen Ackels. His jaw, a perfect one like my 2013 superman, Henry Cavill. But one thing, he isn't my Regé-Jean Page! 

What the fuck? Features of a foreigner but belongs to India by color? I'm gonna marry a brown Greek God who is partially Arab?

But am I really marrying this guy for love and a happy married life? Or do I see this guy just as a golden ticket to my dreams? 

I'm going to be his wife. Or his habibi as the Arabs say for wife or love. But will I be a perfect one? Or an imperfect one? The imperfect habibi?