I am trying to think of someone about whom I am able to write — she is graceful. No one comes to mind, except for the portrait of a woman which hung in my room during my growing up years.
I had asked father, and got a mumbled reply in response.
The lady had timeless grace. Her flawless complexion, sleek hair in a chignon, the graceful arc of her neck, her white sari, gave her a beauty beyond words. I wish I had prodded father more about her, but as an eight year old, I wasn’t an inquisitive person.
The picture bugged my step mother to no end. She believed it was my mother. I didn’t correct her assumption, and strangely my father kept quiet about it too. In realty my mother’s picture hung in our ancestral village in Charsadda. Step mom never went there, so she didn’t come to know who was who.
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
Daily Prompt: Litmus, Litmus on the Wall
If you had to come up with one question, the answer to which would determine whether or not you could be friends with a person you’ve just met, what would it be? What would the right answer be?
Last year in January, I was on a visit to my daughter Nola in Riyadh. We were invited to dinner at a neighbor’s house. I didn’t feel like going, but Nola insisted on my going.
M3 (grand daughter) was carrying a Pumpkin Pie to the neighbor’s home for dessert. Some guests had arrived before us, and others were coming. One guest was accompanied by her mother. We were introduced to each other, and sat together. She was very elegantly dressed in a sari. By her look she must have been 10-15 years my senior in years.
In a few minutes she made me uneasy with her talking, and behavior. Since she lived in the same neighborhood, I tried my best at avoiding further encounters with her.