The woman was ambitious and that was her only flaw. Else, she was sweet, very servile, and
knew what's to be said when nothing prodded the conversation in the right direction.
She also knew the usual jobs that a wife has to make it a point to learn: cooking, washing,
and bringing up children. So it came as no surprise that proposals made it a point to single
her out from the rest of the clan.
However, as I said, she was ambitious. She hated the poverty she lived in and wanted no more
of it. Half the proposals she received did promise her to alleviate her status. Even so, she
turned them down. The reason? She did not want a rich villager.
The other half of the lot that wooed her were well off, but they added smoking, drinking,
and a number of other aimless vices to their resume as well. And so she gave no attention to
them either.
The years flew, her brother married, the sister-in-law came in. Sisters-in-law as most of my
marrried readers might or might not know, love to interfere. And this one was no exception.
In the first week, she managed to get the brother to listen only to her. And within a span
of six months, she managed to coax him into sending free stuff gotten from work to her
mother's.
The woman now felt insecure. If this sis-in-law had her brother wrapped around her apron
strings, it would not be long before the apron strings wrapped and threw her out as well.
Besides the woman's mother felt it her duty to get rid of her.
"Why don't you marry that fellow? He seems okay to me."
"But he's not the kind I am looking at."
"Not the kind I am looking at! You're 27 now. By now, he just has to be the kind."
"You're not being kind mother."
"Look, once I'm gone no one here will bother about you."
"There's father."
"Father won't last long. He's in coma. He'll be gone in a month."
"You won't be gone soon, will you?"
"Look," the mother said, trying her best to not let her ears listen to that question, "you're
27. You need to get out of the house."
The woman was immune to shocks, and this was rather mild. So, she stood quite still and not even her heart deferred its beating as her mother's words landed into her ears.
"I see," she said almost immediately, "I see. So then I must consider."
So, a month later, after her father died, she considered that fellow. That fellow was
actually a man who had a room in town. He had a job that complimented the room and he also
happened to be handsome.
They met often for around three months and on the first day of the fourth month, he threw
his mask away and slapped her in a restaurant. The reason why that slap materialized was
stupid: He had wanted her to attend an interview his sister had fixed up for her and she had
said no.
He just could not take no for an answer and so, showed his true colours. The slap paralyzed
her for a minute. Her world froze, her anger screamed, and she wanted to slap him back.
But she couldn't. She was an ambitious lady remember. And ambitious ladies, as per her
opinion, never slapped back. She remained then seated there for a minute or two and then
walked out of the restaurant.
It was too late to turn back though. Her neighbour had seen her with this fellow. And the deal was as good as settled. It was too late, really to refuse. If she did, the blame was sure to lay
itself on her shoulders. So she married him.
A year later, a son was born.
And a month later, there came the christening.
"What name should we keep?"
"How about Reginald."
"Reginald?"
"Yes, after the saint."
"I think I have a better name." This was her youngest sister-in-law. The fellow had three sisters.
"Really?," the fellow asked, "what name is that?"
She mentioned the name.
"Oh that's splendid. We'll keep that."
"But what's wrong with Reginald?" the woman asked, her anger slowly rising.
"Nothing, just that I like her name better than yours."
A storm rose from the depths of her being and ran to destroy the restrain she had on her senses. Her eyes let themselves be held captive by anger and an explosive rush of blood bubbled in her lips. Her hands let her fingers curl into a fist and as the fist rose to do its duty, her senses suddenly began to fight the storm back.
So her fist went down, the anger left in a huff, and "I see," she said, tired at the battle she had just fought, "I see. Well okay. That's okay."
The fellow smiled and so did his sister.
"But," she added, as she was her usual controlled self, "I want the name I suggested as his second name."
"Okay."
"And-"
"And what now?"
... To be continued.
knew what's to be said when nothing prodded the conversation in the right direction.
She also knew the usual jobs that a wife has to make it a point to learn: cooking, washing,
and bringing up children. So it came as no surprise that proposals made it a point to single
her out from the rest of the clan.
However, as I said, she was ambitious. She hated the poverty she lived in and wanted no more
of it. Half the proposals she received did promise her to alleviate her status. Even so, she
turned them down. The reason? She did not want a rich villager.
The other half of the lot that wooed her were well off, but they added smoking, drinking,
and a number of other aimless vices to their resume as well. And so she gave no attention to
them either.
The years flew, her brother married, the sister-in-law came in. Sisters-in-law as most of my
marrried readers might or might not know, love to interfere. And this one was no exception.
In the first week, she managed to get the brother to listen only to her. And within a span
of six months, she managed to coax him into sending free stuff gotten from work to her
mother's.
The woman now felt insecure. If this sis-in-law had her brother wrapped around her apron
strings, it would not be long before the apron strings wrapped and threw her out as well.
Besides the woman's mother felt it her duty to get rid of her.
"Why don't you marry that fellow? He seems okay to me."
"But he's not the kind I am looking at."
"Not the kind I am looking at! You're 27 now. By now, he just has to be the kind."
"You're not being kind mother."
"Look, once I'm gone no one here will bother about you."
"There's father."
"Father won't last long. He's in coma. He'll be gone in a month."
"You won't be gone soon, will you?"
"Look," the mother said, trying her best to not let her ears listen to that question, "you're
27. You need to get out of the house."
The woman was immune to shocks, and this was rather mild. So, she stood quite still and not even her heart deferred its beating as her mother's words landed into her ears.
"I see," she said almost immediately, "I see. So then I must consider."
So, a month later, after her father died, she considered that fellow. That fellow was
actually a man who had a room in town. He had a job that complimented the room and he also
happened to be handsome.
They met often for around three months and on the first day of the fourth month, he threw
his mask away and slapped her in a restaurant. The reason why that slap materialized was
stupid: He had wanted her to attend an interview his sister had fixed up for her and she had
said no.
He just could not take no for an answer and so, showed his true colours. The slap paralyzed
her for a minute. Her world froze, her anger screamed, and she wanted to slap him back.
But she couldn't. She was an ambitious lady remember. And ambitious ladies, as per her
opinion, never slapped back. She remained then seated there for a minute or two and then
walked out of the restaurant.
It was too late to turn back though. Her neighbour had seen her with this fellow. And the deal was as good as settled. It was too late, really to refuse. If she did, the blame was sure to lay
itself on her shoulders. So she married him.
A year later, a son was born.
And a month later, there came the christening.
"What name should we keep?"
"How about Reginald."
"Reginald?"
"Yes, after the saint."
"I think I have a better name." This was her youngest sister-in-law. The fellow had three sisters.
"Really?," the fellow asked, "what name is that?"
She mentioned the name.
"Oh that's splendid. We'll keep that."
"But what's wrong with Reginald?" the woman asked, her anger slowly rising.
"Nothing, just that I like her name better than yours."
A storm rose from the depths of her being and ran to destroy the restrain she had on her senses. Her eyes let themselves be held captive by anger and an explosive rush of blood bubbled in her lips. Her hands let her fingers curl into a fist and as the fist rose to do its duty, her senses suddenly began to fight the storm back.
So her fist went down, the anger left in a huff, and "I see," she said, tired at the battle she had just fought, "I see. Well okay. That's okay."
The fellow smiled and so did his sister.
"But," she added, as she was her usual controlled self, "I want the name I suggested as his second name."
"Okay."
"And-"
"And what now?"
... To be continued.
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After all, typing off what comes naturally is far easier than copying off readymade work, isn't it? :)