Dear God,
Why oh why did you make chaniya cholis? It would have been just one tiny thing less among your myriad miraculous creations. Do you realise what havoc you’ve caused in our household? Every birthday, every visit to the mall, to a friend’s place, to a colleague’s dinner party or sometimes even to the play ground or at home I dread that question from my daughter, ‘May I wear my chaniya choli?’
Oh ho so you’re asking why don’t I just let her? Well, imagine how she’d climb the slide in all her finery.. or how she’d kick the ball, or skip rope or how incongruous she would look if she walked into a Mc Donalds in her wedding glory… ???? Besides what would she wear when she had a real wedding to go to if she wore out everything in the playground?
Okay granted we do need chaniya cholis for weddings and suchlike but then why did you give my daughter this craving? In times of barely there hot shorts and bum-exposing microminis why should she hanker after ‘clothes that reach my toes’ (Her words not mine).
Did you see the huge scene we had yesterday? Did you see how she cried because she wanted to wear a chaniya choli at home? In my frustration and anger I told her if she continued to cry I’d get rid of each and every one of them. And then she raised her tear streaked face to me, sobbing heart-breakingly and asked, ‘Will I never ever look pretty again?’
Tell me what I should have done then? Would a lecture on the frivolity of clothes been of any use? Did I do the right thing in suspending my anger to give her a tight hug and tell her she is pretty no matter what she wore? And did you see the doubt written all over her sweet little face as she looked on unbelievingly — Could anyone really look pretty in shorts?
It’s all your fault, really. Why did you make clothes at all? Weren’t we managing fine with those fig leaves and tree barks? And if it got a tad too cold.. Well why should it get too cold? You’re God aren’t you? You could take care of that with the snap of a finger.
— no more valuable manhours (or woman hours, for that matter) lost in contemplation of ‘what should I wear?’, or ‘Did I get it right?’
— no more garment stores taking up precious space
— no more valuable print space lost in telling us what to wear
— no more moral police telling us what not to wear
— no more mindless fashion weeks
— no more sartorial red-carpet gossip and more importantly
— no more people getting judged by what they wear
Oh I could go on and on. Do you realise this could be the way to a better world? Do something God and soon please before I lose my daughter to the inconsequential world of clothes and fashion.
Yours truly
Very Worried Mama
PS: I decided to let her have her way hoping she’d find out on her own how uncomfortable those clothes were. It was I, however, who was proved wrong. She wore it till evening. coming to me every few minutes with statements like, “Look mama I can skip rope in this dress.” and “look mama I’ve not messed it up.”
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| At work |
