5 hours ago
If I have to define my father's ideologies, I would say his are quite similar to Paul from the Bible. A patriarchal man, standing in opposition to feminists and the LGBTQ community. Our arguments usually end with him declaring, "Miranda House jake bigad gayi hai" (Since the day, you got into Miranda House, you have been treading on the wrong path). Our differences usually reach the peak on Saturday nights or Sundays. Topics ranging from "women should cover their heads in church" to "The Bible condemns homosexuality" are put on the table and consumed with disagreements which sometimes escalate into anger. .
I find discussions with my mother more fruitful. I find in her patience and understanding and with her, I find that my transformation into a feminist being was facilitated due to privileges, which she never had. But with my father, I face a certain rigidity, a refusal to understand. Over this last year, I found my discussions with him- which he thinks of as rebellion against God and church- tiring and futile and I had begun to let things be the way they were with him, and carried on with my own little forms of protest, in secret, away from his sight. .
But this evening, I felt hopeful again. Dad dreamt, what he called a "bizzare dream" and narrated it to me. He said, "There was a strange tree. I had never seen it before, so I went and sat under it. A few seconds later, I see Leela Aunty (his Bua) rushing towards me and she said in a panicky tone, "Dont sit under this tree. You will die soon". As I was getting up, some of its fruits fell on my head its leaves pricked me. Pretty soon, I saw Chacko Uncle (Dad's friend). I asked him what's the matter with this tree. He said that its a popular belief in our churches and in Kerala that if anyone sits under that tree, death comes sooner to them. I heaved a sigh of relief because I thought the tree was poisonous and I was about to die". .
"Indeed its a bizzare dream", I replied. .
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