a vase of bones

}~a painting in the bushes~{

arasu?

aadhavan?

aathman?

adhibhan?

adhiguna?

agamadhi?

adhithan?

what was his name?
what could it have been?
who was he?

why am I thinking about him?
no.
why is he making me think about him?

I could only remember his brown eyes,
a deep brown with a hint of russet,

the kind of brown that reminded me of my mother's favourite saree with its golden thread,

the kind of brown that drags you to a faraway forest and lets you feel how it is to hold a tiny squirrel in your hands,

the kind of brown that lets you relish the flavours of almonds,walnuts and groundnuts all together in the most palatable way,

the kind of brown that fills our lands and has no name or respect for its eminence.

I recalled the events of what might have been one of the most bewildering encounters I have ever had with a person.

I had hurriedly walked out of breakfast.

as anna had tried to prove me to be the one who stole the documents,
the system of patriarchy for once saved me from something equally detestable.

since everyone believed no girl is capable of doing such "manly" things of may it be smallness or enormity.

there had been a habitual argument which as usual anna had induced,

he talked about how I was going to destroy the reputation of the family to withers, by going to college with my ill manners and arrogance.

and all of my aunts and their abominable daughters pulled the parsimony card
as though we were stuck in poverty
and
joined along with him to criticize me on how I should think of not wasting the money on education,
since it was of no significance for a girl.

oh and rather spend it on a marakatam oddiyanam for a useless four hour function like you, rukmini aachi?

I would have said that
but I remembered amma's words,

"onnaya poga vidama panna ennavenaalum pesuvaanga indira,dont let them get to you,"

"amma.. adhuku, summa irruka solreengala,"

"Idho idhe kovam dhaan,
they will use this against you,"

"Adhukunu why should I shut—,"

"indira, just smile,aprom yosichu paaru.
your goal is bigger than your anger to give them a response."

I remember frowning in irritation,
she hugged me and softly giggled as she spoke to me,

"chellame, I have lived with these women for years and sometimes... I feel like throwing all the heaviest kitchen utensils at them."

and she laughed again, and said,
"well who is to say I havent,"

I laughingly asked her
"amma !!!—,"

and withdrew from the embrace looking at her in a confusion filled with admiration and shock
and ready to question her about this mischievous comment made

but she just smiled like a 3year old and laughingly told me,
"ellavetrikum oru neram undu."
~•~

recalling her wise words,
I innocently finished my food, smilingly washed my hands and left the house to my elder brother's dying arguments.