'You're just like your Athai'
She had heard it all her life. And she had fought the statement and its implications every step of the way. She dropped her drawling Palakkad accent. Curbed her darting serpents tongue. Smiled the moment she felt a frown creep on to her forehead. Cut her long, thick curling hair in to an abominable variant of a bob. Eschewed drip dry nylons for cottons even though they took forever to dry in the perennial rains.
As time passed the similarities were less and less obvious. And one day the comparisons stopped.
She looked at herself in the mirror. The hair was still an abominable bob. Her body was still swathed in block printed cottons. But her Athai's hips. Her thighs. Her breasts. They had somehow managed to slip through her prisonguard vigilance and become firmly entrenched in her body.
'You're just like your Athai' she whispered to herself.
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6 comments:
Family matters more than Dallas?
And how does a veggie survive in that city? By eating collard greens and pecan pie?
J.A.P.
hehe my sis used to get that alll the time :D
reminds me of an aunt i had. every one would say i was just like her and i'd get mad as hell :)
Heh - I got that all the time. Less so now... fortunately I didn't bother much about it and so never had to get an atrocious bob.
JAP - BY EATING amma's food
Shub, ricercar and Shripriya - I feel your pain.
1st timer to ur blog thro' Ganges Ghosh.
it's a masterpiece of all the blog articles of urs.
at the end u sound happy with what u r? am i rgt?
anon
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