It was dinner time. Having not eaten my lunch I felt very
hungry and to my utter dismay my mother had cooked “lauki” or what we call
“bottle gourd”. It is not new for any teenager to scrunch their nose on hearing
this name. No one wants to eat it and almost instantly I lost my appetite. But
then I saw hidden below the plate was a bowl that had one of my favourite
vegetable. Fried potatoes!! And my hunger returned with all the rats changing
to dinosaurs in my stomach. I grabbed my plate and served my food when I heard
my mother telling me that, that the fried potatoes I was eyeing were not made
for me. They were for my brother. My dislike for lauki shouldn’t have been a
surprise for my mother as I have never eaten it and almost when I did it was
because I was forced to. What shocked me more was even after knowing this fact
very well she cooked potatoes for my brother yet she did not give a thought
about me. People would say such a petty thing it is. Whats the big deal about
this.
It was a big deal. These small little things are the one
that pass with such a silence that their occurrence never hit us. I felt
insignificant infront of my much younger brother. I questioned her simply and
her reply left me stunned “He cannot eat that.”
“So cant I.”
“You are elder you can.”
“But as a child you always taught me and lectured me on my
eating habits.”
“You have to go to another home. He doesn't.”
“Where does this come from? When I get married I will have a
right to choose what I want to cook and eat. And this has probably nothing to
do with me getting married. When you cooked this vegetable you could have
easily increased its amount which you deliberately chose not to.”
“Stop arguing and eat your food. You have lost all sense of
respect towards your elders.”
I still can’t fathom where was I disrespectful. All I
demanded were equal privileges for me and my brother. If he couldn't eat
something why was I forced to eat it. Does my mother not want a healthy life
for my brother. Or did she just gave into his demands because she found it
difficult to refuse him?
Either ways I felt I did not belong to that place. I am not
married right now and still I can’t claim my own house to be mine. After
marriage my husband would claim the house I live in as his. Will I never have a
home that I can call mine? How easy it is for parents to say you will have to
leave this home not even knowing that their words can pierce the mind of a
young soul that resides in the body of a growing female. When my own family
does not accept me as a part of them how will someone else’s family is supposed
to do that?
It is sad that being a girl I have to find my identity in
some other male, be it my father, my husband or my son. All my possessions are
a subject to their reference. I find it amusing my mother never felt a need for
an identity. She is happy being someone’s wife or mother. But I am not. I crave
for more. I want to be known with my name and work. I want a house of my own. I
want a body that belongs to me and only me. I can’t shackle my soul nor can I
live like that. Am I asking for too much?
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