When my Jalagam grandmother married my Gadadoss grandfather, she shone like one of the gleaming, granite statues from the temple come to life. Beautiful, everyone sighed.
Of my grandfather with the famed, nearly-white Gadadoss skin, they say he looked like a red yam.
Though only sixteen at her wedding, grandmother was tall and lissome, nearly grandfather‘s height.
The next year, to everyone’s dismay, she grew two inches taller than grandfather.
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3 comments:
ha! have you been reading some murakami or allende lately? ;-) this would make a great start to a magical realism story.
It's a real gotcha!
Reminds me of Wendy Doniger's studies of the "bedtrick." It's usual more risque than this--in all cultures, there are stories of people basically sleeping with someone whose identity is in some way hidden or a deception.
I like the way your story switches from tall (which is very good) to too tall for him (which is very bad).
Sorry I've been out of circulation Zamz. How are you?
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