Yesterday I noticed that when my mother finished her story telling, my daughter wanted to sleep with her. She like my mother's soft and warm body and her quilt smells of cardamom and cloves. And my mother always keep a torch under her pillow. So that, when the lights are off, toes will not knock against anything. Unfortunately, Mom refused to give space to lie with her and allowed Hari to be there. Anyway, I think my elder daughter have angry with her due to this incident.
Today, Ashtami day, with a tray of crimson powder Mom calls every girls. There, halwa and puris, Mom prepared all those to worship Devi on Ashtami day. Room is filled with the smell of those offerings. Where is my naughty daughter when my Mom is putting the tikka on girl's foreheads. There she is! Away from all these. She says herself as a railway engine in between these aarti. My brother's son calling her 'engine'.
Oh God! Why my daughter is like this. Disobedient. I will make an engine out of you this very minute. My neighbor is trying to quench my rage and holding my clenched fist. She signaled my daughter to be obedient. Neighbor told me not to hit a Kanyakumari in Ashtami day. It is a sin.
My sister told my daughter to take the Prasad from my mother. My daughter's voice breaks into a sob and she said why we all pretend to worship the girls when we people don't love them. She is screaming while saying that she don't want to be a goddess and she want nothing.
Everyone of us are standing with a wonder. She is so furious with herself that she want to swallow the burning camphor to choke her treacherous throat. I am sure, she is diverting from the traditional customs and concepts stamped on women. She is trying to escape from the net of patriarchy.
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