When one reaches a certain vintage in years, you are very likely to be pegged for as knowing of ever so many eligible young 'boys' or 'girls'. As an Indian-American, the pressure on you to fulfil your predestined role of matchmaking Maami or Maama is quite immense, even if you barely passed the far-end of the 'age of eligibility' by about 30 nanoseconds. (Plus you have to get used to being addressed as 'Uncle' or 'Auntie' by miscellaneous persons who are barely 10 years younger than you.)
"Do you know of any suitable boys? Please call us or send an email with details if you know anyone who might match."
"What are your basic criteria?" ( Always a good idea to find out the customer specs and requirements before preparing a list of suitable candidates.)
"Well, he must be Telugu speaking."
"Is that all, I know at least two dozen eligible boys, shall I send you the list?"
"No, no, no. He must be vegetarian too."
"Oh, then the list will have only 4 or 5. What else?"
"He must be a doctor with a green card or a US citizen."
"No, no, no. A plain doctor will not be enough- he has to be a surgeon", interjected the girl's mother, adding another critical attribute. "We can't settle for less, after how we've educated our daughter."
"And he needs to be tall and fair, not older than 35 and with good horoscope and family background."
Even if I could come up with a "boy" who is all of the above, the problem would be that such a paragon might be already married with two kids, and unwilling to take on Wife # 2 because of antibigamy laws. Or even worse, divorced with two kids. Hmmm, maybe I should put in a word for Candidate C. My husband gives me a warning look before I shoot off my mouth mentioning names.
"Of course we will do our best, Uncle", he grinned at our matchseeking friends.
Now you see why I am totally unfit for this business: too much frankness and snark will get you only so far. A diplomat's delicate touch and tenaciousness would come in handy, I suppose.