Here's an excerpt:
She paid them no mind. She was used to gossip. Her mother was an unconventional woman who caused the village women to whisper like leaves in a storm. Her mother was a woman who’d never bowed to touch her father’s feet as custom dictated. She wore what she wished. She had two girls and refused to “try for a boy.” She adored and educated her daughters, and she did so with aplomb, often showing her affection in public.
The only reason Mother was never sent packing was that Father stood directly in the line of fire whenever anyone had anything to say. “My wife does all she does with my blessing. If anyone takes issue, let him come to me.”
And come to him, they did. All the husbands and fathers and uncles regularly harassed him for setting a poor example and allowing his wife and girls far too much freedom. “You’ll have all the women of the village wanting the same treatment, Harbir! What will become of our traditions and way of life?”
Read the rest here and let me know what you think!But her father never budged. And while the other women in the village set their feet on prescribed paths, they did so with a hint of mischief. Just a small sidestep every now and then, much to Mother’s secret delight.
6 comments:
hey! congrats, you versatile author, you!
The image is most appropriate for the story. You have me intrigued about khusaras even though they were mentioned for five seconds.
The story was really really good. But you need to follow up on that story. pretty please? =D
and I'm with Gbemi, you are so versatile!
Thanks, ladies! I'm glad you enjoyed the story, Ari :).
Oh, hoorayyyy! I can't wait to read this!
Oh, hoorayyyyy! I can't wait to read this!
hey hey!
I love the quote, and much looking fwd to reading the piece!
-y
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