"I don't want to get married!"
There is resolve in the voice, and petulance too. There is frustration, which emanates from the fact that brother can remain unmarried and there is not even a discussion about it, but they want to get the younger one up and out of the family home. Understandably, the injustice of it all brings hot tears to her eyes.
"Alrighty.. not for the next twenty years." The mother is playing a dangerous game, and she smiles at me to denote that she knows it. I watch it fascinated, wondering how this is going to work out.
"No!!!! Not even after that!" She is very very specific about it, and being old enough to understand that twenty years is not forever, cuts the suggestion down.
We let her simmer in her indignation. Her mom turns to me.
"On the other day, we told her that she can find a nice boy from around here. But no, she wanted to marry someone from our community, and expected her dad to find her one." There is a hint of laughter in her voice. A Christian who has been happily married to a Hindu, she can understand the irony of those earnest but naive declarations much better than I do.
"Waaaa!!!! No!!!!!!" Oops. We had forgotten the fact that the little one can hear, and has a regrettably good command of English.
Waterworks start. She is in agony, you can see that from the scrunched up face and the deep, deep sobs.
"Alright honey.... don't get married... don't get out of home... stay with me and cook and clean for me..." says the mother. May be its me, but then again, there is a slight hint of regret and sarcasm in her voice. Regret that her daughter wont always be this innocent, this huggable ; sarcasm that is waiting for the future when she will be saying " but you never let me go anywhere!"
Did I say that I love them both, the spunky mom and her adorable daughter?
There is resolve in the voice, and petulance too. There is frustration, which emanates from the fact that brother can remain unmarried and there is not even a discussion about it, but they want to get the younger one up and out of the family home. Understandably, the injustice of it all brings hot tears to her eyes.
"Alrighty.. not for the next twenty years." The mother is playing a dangerous game, and she smiles at me to denote that she knows it. I watch it fascinated, wondering how this is going to work out.
"No!!!! Not even after that!" She is very very specific about it, and being old enough to understand that twenty years is not forever, cuts the suggestion down.
We let her simmer in her indignation. Her mom turns to me.
"On the other day, we told her that she can find a nice boy from around here. But no, she wanted to marry someone from our community, and expected her dad to find her one." There is a hint of laughter in her voice. A Christian who has been happily married to a Hindu, she can understand the irony of those earnest but naive declarations much better than I do.
"Waaaa!!!! No!!!!!!" Oops. We had forgotten the fact that the little one can hear, and has a regrettably good command of English.
Waterworks start. She is in agony, you can see that from the scrunched up face and the deep, deep sobs.
"Alright honey.... don't get married... don't get out of home... stay with me and cook and clean for me..." says the mother. May be its me, but then again, there is a slight hint of regret and sarcasm in her voice. Regret that her daughter wont always be this innocent, this huggable ; sarcasm that is waiting for the future when she will be saying " but you never let me go anywhere!"
Did I say that I love them both, the spunky mom and her adorable daughter?
4 comments:
eDi nee kaTTa kallipilanallo?
Regret that her daughter wont always be this innocent, this huggable ; sarcasm that is waiting for the future when she will be saying " but you never let me go anywhere!"
...Hmmm thoughtful words
Nice work... Awesome post!!!
I can see it. I can hear it. I HAVE heard it! The daughters who declare they're NEVER leave are now the daughters who (older) is living seven hours away, with her boyfriend, and (younger) manages to squeeze in some mum-time between social engagements.
It's all part of growing up! (For me, too.)
MaryP
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