Several weeks before, I confronted my housemate after I found out that we had both slept with Sam.
In our rather casual conversation, we marveled at how his fuckboy reputation didn’t seem to match his quiet, passive demeanor.
Ravi Patel LA-based actor and directoris in crisis. His parents, who emigrated from India when they were young, make it clear to him that his first priority in his present life is to get married and preferably to another Patel.
This starts the first of many in-movie explanations to help those of us who aren't from India understand that country's marriage customs.
Any non-white person who has online dated will know that race always comes into it.
Even if you don’t explicitly mention it, your inbox will inevitably contain messages from people fetishising your colour.
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Although we were both warned by our friends that he had a history of being shitty to girls, we were, after all, cooperative and sex-positive housemates.
We encouraged the other person to “go for it” — even though I knew her “quirky” Wes Anderson aesthetic meant she was more likely seen as girlfriend material.
Nearly everyone from a certain part of India is named Patel and they're all related but they're now far removed.
(Sort of like the "Smiths.") It's a super-enormous extended family with platinum-level familial rights that Patels around the world well understand. He's stuck in the middle and the parents are impatient. This film documents a real year in Ravi Patel's life and follows him as he seeks a marriage partner in the traditional Indian way, modified by American cultural tones.