I’m going home this weekend for Vishu. Happy because this is going to be the first celebration in my home after 3 years of consecutive deaths in the family. But still my mind is at unrest. Festival celebrations means the entire family coming together for lunch. The joint family I live in it is about 40 to 50 heads.
Would have loved that on any normal day. But times have changed. The same questions from every one. Why aren’t you getting married? What is happening? A few aunts will come with silence and ask is there someone in Bangalore? They stare at me with a look that drives me up the wall.
There is one part of the mind that says I don’t care the damn for anything anyone says. But is that so really? Can I say “It’s my life!” to these people? Do I really not care? Yes I do..I love all these people so much. What I am today is because of them. They don’t understand my helplessness. And I don’t understand their concern? Or should I say I misunderstand their concern. Don’t know..