God and Shorts by Sheeba Sultana

Discussion in 'India' started by Ignorant, Jul 10, 2015.

  1. Ignorant

    Ignorant New Member

    "I was lying on my sofa reading "Wasted in Engineering" when my aunt entered the house.

    Seeing her after seven months, I greeted her with "Assalaamualaikum, how have you been?" And she greeted me with "Waalaikum Assalaam. You are wearing shorts?"

    Years of experience had taught me not to get caught up in a pointless argument. So I smiled at her and changed the topic. She however had yet another topic in mind.

    "Your uncle said that today in the mosque, they preached about how girls should always be fully covered. And look at what you are wearing!” She dramatically put her hands to her cheeks.

    Pointing to my 12 year old cousin watching TV she said, "You are supposed to wear a dupatta in front of him, and your own father too."
    My cousin looked at me and giggled. I felt he somehow got exactly how I was feeling, much better than my aunt did. That's how all children are, aren't they? Innocent and natural. Before they are told things.

    Since I gave no reaction again except for looking at my cousin and giggling back, my aunt went on more sternly, wagging her finger at me, "Otherwise you will burn in hell. Do you know how God will punish you there?"

    I was more interested in going back to my book, where lecturers were making a student's life hell in some engineering colleges by unfairly punishing them.

    Sensing another sermon starting, I gently but firmly told her "Thank you. But I will handle that after I die."

    "But its my duty to tell you! Otherwise God will punish me."
    "I am glad you told me, aunty. I'll tell God that you did warn me fair and good."

    "What if you don't tell Him?"

    "Well, tell Him yourself then. He could playback this day and see you are telling the truth."

    "But what if God doesn't give me a chance to speak?"

    "Look, are you worried about me or yourself?"

    "Of course you."

    Enough said, I told her enjoy her coconut milk drink that had just been served. And amidst peals of fresh laughter from my cousin, took my book and went to my garden.

    My garden, where I sat with ants and butterflies and green grass and tall trees. Where I really felt God. A God to whom what I wore did not matter."

    - Sheeba Sultana, writer.

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