Re: Rooth na jaana…
…I think it is unfair to blame it on the hormones in case of a fifth grader. Probably, love is not Chemistry; and if age can’t restrict it then it is not Physics either. If people fall in love despite the risk of getting their hearts broken it is not Statistics. One thing is for sure that it is not simple math to figure out what love is. An affection that has lasted over years cannot be infatuation. Probably it is genetic. May be we inherited it from Adam. It must be the innocent love that Adam felt when he first saw Eve, long before touching the forbidden fruit. …
Are you gonna marry her when you grow up?” asked Fozia one of my classfelow , looking at my face anticipating a ‘no’.
“Yes” I said; and my slave driver whipped me the very first time.
Miss Rabia got married during the summer brake of that year.
“Now what’re you gonna do?” Fozia dropped the bombshell on the first day after summer break.
I looked into her starry eyes and shrugged “I’ll marry her too when I’ll grow up”.
Obviously, I was too naïve to understand the concept of marriage. But I felt hurt. The pain was strange. It was like the pain of betrayal when someone who is trusted and close to you betrays you unknowingly, innocently and unintentionally. Deep down inside you feel like punishing your betrayer but you can’t. You find yourself not only tied down but gagged as well. And no one else does it to you but you.