![]() But my husband’s face was not of a kind that one’s imagination would place in fairyland. When I was a child, I was quite familiar with the description of the Prince of the fairy story. She will become an ideal wife.”Īnd all the women who heard it said: “No wonder, for she resembles her mother.” ![]() When the proposal came for my marriage, an astrologer was sent, who consulted my palm and said, “This girl has good signs. All that remained for me to ask of my God in reparation was, that I might grow up to be a model of what woman should be, as one reads it in some epic poem. I thought that it was God’s unfairness which was wrapped round my limbs–that my dark features were not my due, but had come to me by some misunderstanding. The sky which gives light is blue, and my mother’s face was dark, but she had the radiance of holiness, and her beauty would put to shame all the vanity of the beautiful.Įveryone says that I resemble my mother. They came at the start of my life’s journey, like the first streak of dawn, giving me golden provision to carry me on my way. MOTHER, today there comes back to mind the vermilion mark at the parting of your hair, the _sari_ which you used to wear, with its wide red border, and those wonderful eyes of yours, full of depth and peace. This eBook was produced by Chetan Jain, Viswas G and Anand Rao at Bharat Literature ![]() ![]() Original html version created at by Eric Eldred. ![]()
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