You walk into your home to find a couple you don’t know sitting in your living room, eating a slice of cake. Tell us what happens next.
Nietzsche says, there are no facts only interpretations. Actually, there is no objective universe out there. All universes are subjective universes, so you are constantly talking about your interpretations and you think that by getting many people to agree with you, you start talking about facts, but it’s never so. I neither read fiction, nor write it. I don’t think I write facts either. My interpretation of life events–the egoic cobwebs-do they qualify as facts or fiction or neither? I don’t know.
The prompt today immediately spoke to me. Not even a split second was needed to accept or reject it as a scene from an evening 3 years ago started playing in my mind. I went to attend an examination and as I returned and walked inside home – in the living room an elderly couple was sitting- eating a slice of cake. As soon as they saw me they stood up from their seats and both of them tried to touch my feet. I got startled at such respect and held their hands in air saying that there was no need to pay obeisance to me. I didn’t think that I deserved that. Then, my grandma who was sitting there with them told with a smile on her face that they were parents of a girl who was supposed to be my bride if I accepted the proposal. This annoyed me a great deal as I had become fed-up with all marriage proposals, especially this one in particular. The talk had been going on and on for many months.
Wreckage wrecked by mystic fire had made me bed-ridden and almost handicapped my motor functions altogether-leaving me at the mercy of psych-meds and my vehement and overweening father who kept entertaining buyers despite my resistance. Women are burdens in most indian families in developing cities and women empowerment is just a talk in thin air. Parents of a girl are supposed to butter and flatter all relatives of boy and pay huge sums as dowry in order to get her married. No wonder the couple was willing to touch my feet(which is a custom amongst Hindus to show respect to elders and those who are of ‘higher rank’ among relatives and in social circles.)
I kept resisting against their proposal which kept striking every few months. My grandma said they were well-to-do and girl would have brought a lot of dowry had I married. Ah! I ran away in time and the girl got married to another guy. Now she is a happy mother. When she first spoke to me on Facebook earlier this year, she jokingly said that I became a Baba(a renunciate) because I couldn’t marry her! I laughed and asked her why she had flunked the class seventh in school. She said she used to be a lazy girl then. Now she has a good job, a good family and she is a mother.
image courtesy: here