this story was read out once during my early days in the secondary section during a spoken english class by mrs.sengupta and here i found it again today in someone's blog. one of the prize winning entries in a story writing competition 8years ago (almost)
I loved my didi, always had infact. Yet my didi dreamt of a happy marriage and all my loving did not change the fact that my didi was dark, short and had failed to pass her higher secondary examinations... I had loved my did right from the time when I had started to walk. My didi, then a little girl with two sturdy plaits would hold my hand reassuringly while I made futile attempts to gain control over my legs. Grateful for the support of those two limbs I loved my didi even more. But my didi dreamt of marriage and all my loving did not change the fact that she was dark and short and had failed to pass her higher secondary examinations and thus had no prospect of matrimonial alliance. Now when I think back I often have a nagging suspicion that except me perhaps no one ever had loved my didi.
My mother in those days used to rave on and on about the injustice meted out to her by god by burdening her with two daughters. My father, frustrated at losing his job, and his inability to provide a dowry, drank away his pains, my didi though never cried, she was the only one who encouraged me to study. And I continued loving my didi, But my didi dreamt of marriage and all my loving didn’t change the fact that my didi was dark and short and failed in HS and thus had no prospects in future
Then came the fateful day, 10th of January, when at last a "sambandha" was fixed for didi. Never mind the groom was 55 and this was his third marriage, never mind that my didi was described to have a " medium complexion" and a Bsc degree in computer science. Our household changed its look. My mother for once forgot her grumbling and my father went quietly about the house, selling almirahs trunks and jewelry to glean together 1 lakh for the dowry... but my didi didn’t marry. And unlike many other women, she didn’t announce the fact dramatically on the day of her marriage, she mailed her true mark sheet to the groom's family instead. They promptly withdrew from the marriage. My didi never got married again.................. thats it then thats the story of a making of a champion though I don’t have any idea how my didi became one. Because I often wonder do short, dark people who have failed in their HS have any right to be champs at all?
Bimbabati Sen
Xth std
My mother in those days used to rave on and on about the injustice meted out to her by god by burdening her with two daughters. My father, frustrated at losing his job, and his inability to provide a dowry, drank away his pains, my didi though never cried, she was the only one who encouraged me to study. And I continued loving my didi, But my didi dreamt of marriage and all my loving didn’t change the fact that my didi was dark and short and failed in HS and thus had no prospects in future
Then came the fateful day, 10th of January, when at last a "sambandha" was fixed for didi. Never mind the groom was 55 and this was his third marriage, never mind that my didi was described to have a " medium complexion" and a Bsc degree in computer science. Our household changed its look. My mother for once forgot her grumbling and my father went quietly about the house, selling almirahs trunks and jewelry to glean together 1 lakh for the dowry... but my didi didn’t marry. And unlike many other women, she didn’t announce the fact dramatically on the day of her marriage, she mailed her true mark sheet to the groom's family instead. They promptly withdrew from the marriage. My didi never got married again.................. thats it then thats the story of a making of a champion though I don’t have any idea how my didi became one. Because I often wonder do short, dark people who have failed in their HS have any right to be champs at all?
Bimbabati Sen
Xth std
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