This morning, before my mother and I had each adapted to the harsh conditions of the pre-6:30 wakeful state, she embarked on a seemingly profound topic of conversation. "Ruch, it seems so easy to find a saathi [partner], so why not just find one and move in together?" I blanched, which in and of itself is difficult given my darker hue. Unphased, she continued. "And then you can split the rent. If you decide to leave the city, he can find another partner."
While my mother is a raging liberal, I was still shocked by her suggestion. Find a boy, move in with him for frugality, leave him when you see fit.
"Mumma, you want me to get married? Really? It's 6:42 on a Thursday morning. Can't we talk about this in the evening, or on Saturday, or in four years?"
My mother threw up her hands in exasperation. "Who said anything about marriage?! I'm too tired for this nonsense."
Apparently, life partner also means roommate.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment