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Sunday, June 17, 2018

Wild child


During one of our family vacations, I saw a huge, gorgeous tree bent at an angle. I wanted to climb it so my father gave me a hand. I was fifteen and it still is one of my fondest memories. An aunty traveling with us said,’ Amitabha da, your daughter is so wild. Who will marry her?’ I think she used the term ‘গেছো’, literally meaning arboreal. He muttered,’ Doesn’t matter.’ For him, climbing trees was more important than learning how to be more marriageable.

I also liked to climb and walk on walls like cats. An elderly neighbor voiced his concern to my mother,’ What if she falls and breaks her legs? Who will marry her then?’ I had to convince Ma that I would be careful and I avoided the front end of the wall so the neighbor could not see me again enjoying my walks on the walls.

They let me grow unpruned.
I might have some disagreeable parts, but I am completely, authentically me. And somewhere, that wild child still lives on and I am grateful for that.

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