I fell in love with this post when I read it for the first time two years ago. I stumbled across it while browsing through posts I liked. I shared it on a recent link party and now, given it is almost 2 years from the day it was published and today is Sunday, I decided to share it. If you haven’t read it before, read it until the end, it’s well worth the read.
My grandmother slit her wrists today.
To assure the inquisitive, prying world it had nothing to do with the inner politics of the family, I was asked to stick to the discussed story that she found out she had an incurable injury. The truth is she couldn’t handle the apparent shame my actions in the past two months had brought our prestigious family name.
Everyone in India barks about tradition. They say our country stands tall on an intellectual platform because we’ve been following a social structure that’s been untouched for centuries. One of the core ideas behind this structure is absolute obedience towards elders. The logic is easy enough to understand. They have more experience. The possibility of them making the right decision in a dilemma is higher. Tradition, I have been told is the platform for a good family life.
Except that I flouted this rule.
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