On Christmas Eve, we all sat together for a cheerful feast, and the delicious cuisine gave way to delicious gossip. I should have known what the topic was going to be. I should have said something when they talked about how Fatema aunty’s daughter was apparently “out of bounds” because she was seen hanging out with a boy. Oh, how she was shamed by them that day! Her character, discussed and judged, and her behaviour announced inappropriate by the proud and delusional flag bearers of saintliness. How these saints, who apparently are talented enough to sketch a person’s character through and through just by looking at their attire, placed the sketch out on the dinner table for everyone to see. 

I should have said something when my cousins were shamed, based on the shape of their body, their personality and their mannerisms that night. When the adults thought demeaning the younger ones was a way of teaching them the way of life. When the constant teasing of my cousin, by my uncles, reduced him to tears, I should have said something.

But being one of the young ones and saying something to the adults is what fools do, right? Or is that what brave people do? Well, it depends on the person’s intent and according to the adults, it’s pretty much the same thing. 

Then the main course gave way to desserts. And the topic of my Uncle’s marriage was discussed. “He must marry someone his age or younger!” they said. “She must not be older than him!” they announced. I did say something then. I called them out while everyone was nodding along, and asked them why it was necessary for the girl to be younger? Why is it that my Uncle can’t decide for himself, and that they must decide for him? That’s when my Uncle stepped in. He looked at me and said, “Well if she were to be older, how in god’s name would I handle her?”

He guffawed loudly and everyone joined in. “Wouldn’t she be the dominant one then? Ugh, that would be a shame!” he added. 

I should have said something after that sexist remark, which, annoyingly, turned the heated discussion into a casual chit-chat. I should have stepped in and told them how sexist they were. I should have said something, Anything. 

The mint was served at last to help everyone get rid of the aftertaste of everything they ate, but the bitter aftertaste of the conversation stayed with me until the very end.

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Hey there! I’m Murtaza. I’m a reader who loves to write stuff he wants to read…If that makes sense. Apart from reading and writing, I also love painting, so you can say I’m a sucker for all sorts of art forms -Including myself ;). When I’m not reading, writing or painting, I’m overthinking. But something which I excel at, is being confused.

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