The undue repent. Part 2 - Apprehensions or reality?
Until Ayla turned 15, life was good. Despite my dad's lack of interest in us and my mom's constant reminders that a woman's place is only in the kitchen and her subjective notions that a girl's duty is only to look after her family, we both were doing good. There was a lot happening in life to distract us from the reality. I was into making friends, recently enrolled myself in a language class and was doing well in sports. Whereas Ayla had her GCSE's on the way so she was more concerned with her grades than anything else.
During the winter vacations, we had a visitor from Pakistan,my dadi. I had always found it hard to be comfortable in her presence. Whether it was due to her constant complaining of how careless we girls were or her being very judgmental of our every move, not sure. But she was anything but lovable. Dadi stayed for the next six months until Ayla's exams which was convincingly very fishy but as a 11 years old, i believed i was thinking too much. Or maybe not.
The summers started with an anguish in the air.The long hourly debates in the t.v room with closed doors,uncountable visits of the clergy of the local mosque which was unusual because it was us usually visiting them, Skype sessions with friends back in Pakistan and constant supervision of our activities. Suspicious! Suspicious! It wasn't wrong to say that Ayla and i were captives in our own house and totally disintegrated with the on goings.
I knew, Ayla knew. Or at least she had an idea. Suddenly, she had lost interest in reading (which, by all means was not normal). Our conversations were more of a time kill now. Soulless. I was fearful. Uneasy anticipations had occupied most of my mind but was fully unaware that future was dreadful beyond my imagination.
During the winter vacations, we had a visitor from Pakistan,my dadi. I had always found it hard to be comfortable in her presence. Whether it was due to her constant complaining of how careless we girls were or her being very judgmental of our every move, not sure. But she was anything but lovable. Dadi stayed for the next six months until Ayla's exams which was convincingly very fishy but as a 11 years old, i believed i was thinking too much. Or maybe not.
The summers started with an anguish in the air.The long hourly debates in the t.v room with closed doors,uncountable visits of the clergy of the local mosque which was unusual because it was us usually visiting them, Skype sessions with friends back in Pakistan and constant supervision of our activities. Suspicious! Suspicious! It wasn't wrong to say that Ayla and i were captives in our own house and totally disintegrated with the on goings.
I knew, Ayla knew. Or at least she had an idea. Suddenly, she had lost interest in reading (which, by all means was not normal). Our conversations were more of a time kill now. Soulless. I was fearful. Uneasy anticipations had occupied most of my mind but was fully unaware that future was dreadful beyond my imagination.
Comments
Post a Comment