You will find short stories on this site. Most are autobiographical. Some are fiction.

AHMED’S BRIDE
What is going on with you Ahmed? All day you have been acting giddy?” “Yes,” he said. “I am excited because tonight I meet my wife.” What do you mean? I didn’t know you were married.” “I’m not. She is my future wife. “What?” I replied. He explained, “Yes, I will have a traditional Saudi wedding. Here in Saudi Arabia, a man doesn’t choose his wife, his mother does it for him. From the time I was a small child my mother has been looking for the right girl to be my wife. She and other mothers would talks about their children, as all mothers do. But in Saudi Arabia, there is an ulterior motive, which is a question. ‘Which of these other children would be a good spouse for my child”.

This seemed strange to me. But upon thinking about it, I realized that there is much to be considered in choosing a lifelong partner. First, marriage in Saudi Arabia is a family matter. It is as much a marriage of the couple as it is the joining of two families. Then there is the matter of the personalities of the couple. Who knows an adolescent better than his mother? There is also the life experience that the mother brings to the choice. A mother has lived with a partner. She is best suited to consider which aspects of a prospect’s personality would be a good match for those of her child. Finally, one’s mother is not driven by superficial appearance or the sex drive in selecting a partner for her child. I realized that this is not a bad custom.

Ahmed interrupted my thoughts saying “Last week my mother announced that she had made her decision. Tonight I will go to my wife’s house to meet her for the first time.”

The following day I asked Ahmed “How did it go last night?” He said “It was a traditional meeting before marriage. I wore my best thobe. When I arrived I was invited into their family sitting room where I sat at one end of their couch. Soon my wife and her father came into the room. She sat at the other end of the couch. Her father sat on a chair facing us. She was wearing the traditional abaya. She was completely covered all I could see were her delicate hands. She seemed slender, though it was hard to tell. We were allowed to talk but she said little mostly answering my questions. I asked the traditional questions like Do you want to have children? Do you want to travel? After answering each of my questions she would ask the same question of me. The meeting lasted less than a half hour.” What did you think? I asked. “I think she is beautiful,” he replied with great enthusiasm. “So what happens next?” “In about a month she and I will meet again, this time at the Imam’s mosque. He will ask questions of each of us. Then if he approves that we are a good match, he will proclaim our marriage to be mabrook.” “What does mabrook mean?” I asked “The translation” he explained, “It means something like: It is good.” But it has much greater meaning because at the moment when the Emam says ‘mabrook’, we are officially married. The wedding is only a formality. When will the wedding take place? I asked assuming that it would happen directly upon the imam’s proclamation. “Oh,” Ahmed explained, “Weddings are elaborate affairs. It takes the women a lot of time to plan and prepare for it. It usually takes around a year for the wedding to happen.” Will you be able to see your bride in the meantime?” I asked. “Oh No!” he said. “Not until the wedding can I see her. I hope you will come to my wedding,” he said. “It is considered a good omen for the marriage to have a foreign dignitary attend the wedding.” I assured Ahmed that we would be honored to attend his wedding.