Turning the Tables
“What should I do Tara Chachi*?” Bulbul asked Tara who sat outside her hut dicing vegetables. “Should I get married or continue my studies?”
“Do what you want.” Tara didn’t look up. “Why ask me?”
“Because Chachi you are the only woman who dared to make her own choice, marry the man she loved.”
“Did I?” Tara asked.
Bulbul was taken aback. “Everyone says…”
“But nobody asked me!”
“I am asking you Chachi. Tell me. Please.” Bulbul coaxed.
“Many years ago, the village chief’s son took a fancy to me. He made several advances but I spurned them all.”
“Thwarted, he grabbed me right in the middle of the village fair. Confronted, he declared that he was ready to marry and I wasn’t.”
“No!” Bulbul gasped. But she rallied. “But how romantic! I mean he was so desperately in love…”
“Love!” Tara snorted. “He only wanted to subjugate me.”
“But he’s famous for not even looking at other women. He’s clearly besotted with you.”
“By creating a public scene, he effectively gave me two options, marry him or die.” Tara put away the knife. “After marriage, I gave him two options – stay true to me or I would kill him.”
*Chachi: Aunt but specifically one’s father’s brother’s wife but is also used to address any elderly lady.
Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting the challenge and E.A.Wicklund for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.