On my way. Mom and dad are fighting over something. It must be something of petite dispute when actually both of them conceal in their self the fear combined with the blazing flickers of ire for my sister's in-laws. They realize how deprived they are of their worthy respect. Nonetheles
Sat the two son-in-laws, the guest of honors - the most important members of the family. My father meets the elder one first, hello'ing and accosting while I am trying to make sure to find the right place to put all the baggage we brought on appropriate places - it's very important to place it over the right corner in the right position or I might be the cause of a huge ruin.
Today the hosting family seems very confident. They have the authority over our daughters. And, we must be the starters in everything - the greetings, the welcoming handshake, the hugs. We should stand up for them. We must greet them with broad smiles. We must act as we are having the time of our lives or else we might be the arrogant ones. Or else, our daughter might have to hear the sloppy taunts awaiting aggressively under the ruthless tongues of the superior family. There, I see my father along with-side my eldest brother-in-law. Most unfailingly, his gesture expresses rigidity. And, a firm acceptance. My sociable, earning and independent brother-in-law is a loyal chauvinist. He believes in his superiority. Beside him, sat the younger one. He makes sure that he is always the upper hand and makes us realize of his dominance over our daughter. He is occasionally grinning over something. I don't know why.
I hadn't the time to meet my sister yet. She must be busy somewhere. The place is crowded. So, I sit down with the kids. I am enjoying now. All the tension seems feeble somehow. But I wonder, where is she? She brings a smile to my face every time. An honest smile. She used to be a best friend. Nevertheless, I keep sitting where I am. Uncomfortably and awaiting.
Rushing hastily came her from the kitchen. Without even putting an eye over me, she starts burbling with mom. Tensed and freaked out. "I told you to bring the 'asli moti choor' while these aren't the ones! and there is no dress for my mother-in-law!" Where my mom consistently trying to make her understand that this does NOT matter. Poor my sister, because she knows that actually, it does matter. And even poor my mom, to have lived a life of deception where money doesn't matter.
We have eaten the food and it's time for us to leave. We must not take a lot of time as this is the daughter's home. Handing over the presents hurriedly, we are now leaving. I realize how I couldn't see a single smile on my sister's cheeks. No, not that formal hasty smile, but the real beautiful one. Wishing I could somehow get that on her face, I can only pray and do nothing.
When the truth is that they hide the deep rooted insecurities within themselves and try to prove something that never had any existence. They try to heal their pain by stabbing someone whom they can easily stab. Their hearts aren't red. And their minds are free. The reality is that they have murdered the selfless innocent soul that once existed in all of us. They have murdered sensitivity.
