This is a memoir of a British Indian Muslim woman looking for a husband.
The book started with a very juvenile style. The author's Islamic reasoning was a little too simplistic — like that of a teenager. I actually thought the book was excerpts from Shelina's diary when she was 19.
The book lacks a clear time-frame. All I know is that it started when Shelina was a college student, it mentioned half-way through the book that the internet was still new, and it was published in 2009.
Also, I only know the author was 19 at the beginning of the book, then she mentioned working, and at the end she got married.
At some point, Shelina even seemed to suffer from a quarter life crisis like a 40-year old man. By that, I mean that she just went ahead and bought a racing car.
Disclosing her age, and the date, would have helped readers relate to her challenges.
The scene with the French tourist was so petty for both sides. Again, I don't know what year that happened, but I like to think that in 2013 people are more enlightened, and Muslims have better reasoning skills. I can only hope.
I learned many new things about Indian culture from this book. For example: biodata. I heard about it before, but I thought it was just a joke.
I am surprised to learn that some Indian families are deeply involved in the marriage quest of their daughters — I thought only boys had that privilege since they are the seekers.
For over 200 pages, the author was lamenting her fate, asking questions, raising her own hopes about love and marriage, questioning herself for a very short time then quickly changing her mind and claiming firmly that no, it was not her fault that she'd been single for so long.
It's only on the last 10 pages that she brings up how she met the "one". Except she doesn't go into much details as she did with all the rejected suitors. You finish the book and you don't even know how old her husband is nor what he does for a living.
I guess we have the right to that information now, don't we?
I also wonder what happened to Noreen and Sara.
The very fact that the author spent most of her time and energy on sharing her misfortunes while looking for love, and then she said very little about her happiness when she finally found it, is very realistic. That's how people are everywhere. You'll hear all about your friends' problems and misery, you'll be up-to-date with all their drama, but as soon as things are well, they fall off the face of the earth. It's a human thing, unfortunately.
I think Shelina is another woman for whom marriage is the end — the culmination of her life. It's as if her love quest ended with the "one", whereas it's supposed to only start. Since the book's title is "love in a headscarf", it should rather tell the story of life with the "one", not end with finding him. It should answer some of all the questions Shelina asked as a single girl, not just expose her young dreams and hopes.
A minor detail, but one that haunted me during the entire book: Who the heck serves guests - suitors or not - instant coffee with condensed milk or bagged tea??? This was such a cultural shock for me. I did NOT know you could do that!
Finally, I think "A British Indian Muslim marriage quest in a headscarf" is a more appropriate title.