“A vagina disappoints more than a penis”, I can proclaim this because I am a female but if I was a male, I would have felt that statement apocryphal.
My readers, you might have noticed that I did not talk about my dad in earlier chapters at all. It was on purpose. My father was half present in my life till seventh grade.
My father is a scientist and like a bank. He is tall, taller than six feet, a mustached- handsome man. He wears a turban and has a good dressing sense. He is clever as a fox and a genius- as per his academic results and trophies.
‘But there’s no rose without a thorn’ and in his case, the thorn is as sharp as a sword which keeps on jabbing my every cell. He got a bad mouth that only knows how to utter abuses and insults- not for everyone but just in front of his family. I think about him as a hypocritical- dual-natured parasite.
My detest began when he used to shout at me and my family if we entered his room while he was studying. He grumbled like a gorilla and slammed the door on our face. Trust me, he is bright in work but dark in behavior- only with us, and maybe I know the cause of that too. He is the first child of my grandparents and being a boy he was over pampered as well as over-burdened. He worked in fields and mastered his studies parallelly which clearly shows his hard times. He became my uncle’s teacher, and then of my aunt, followed by my mom and now it’s my turn.
My dadi (grandmother) is obsessed with the boy child. She never said that on my face but it is exploited by her acts. When I was born, she did not even come to visit me when she got to know it’s a ‘ladki’ (girl). The same happened the second time too when I got my sister in 2011.
On the other hand, when my cousin brother entered this world as a premature baby, she became the first one to hold him in her hands. A grand party was organized by this old lady when my cousin became healthy in a few months.
My animosity for her always kept on rising because of this but one day she crossed all limits. This incident took place last year and currently my mother is in her 40’s. The rudas came with her sister and took my mom to a closed room. I was standing near the door and trying to hear their whispers. Those bog beasts wanted my mom to take some baba’s pills and give birth to a son to support them in the future because according to them, girls are useless I suppose.
How well can you predict my spontaneous action? As always, my eyes were watery and when the initial tear rolled down my acne cheek, I dropped the dining table’s wooden chair in anger and ran away to the park.
There, I encountered my grandfather whom I call ‘dadu’ and he started asking me academically related questions and so I did not get an opportunity to let go of my emotions. I was constantly leering at our house’s door and looking forward to them leaving.
When the right moment came, I ran back home and strikes the door with all my force. My mom knew how I was feeling. Even her experience with her had never been good. She has a peculiarity of judging everyone based on appearance.
I can't even count how many times she had body-shamed my mother. Also, her habit of chanting my cousin's name and portraying him in every example annoys all of us.
That night, maybe for the first time after a long period, I opened up and cried in my mother's lap. She listened to me pitifully and then assured me my worth. That was a warm moment and after that, both of us criticized her for hours.
Believe me or no but I always try to ignore her in every situation. I grew up hating my mother because whenever I think of her, the first thing that comes to my mind is her enraged face cursing me.
An angry person opens his mouth and shuts his eyes. That is the only reason why I never trusted her for anything. We hardly even shared and secrets and I dither with my emotions.
: )
