It was on a spring day nearly 22 years ago in the midst of May when the thoughts began. At dawn on a Saturday she was born. A daughter. A small human being of the female gender in a Bengali family. And the mother cried with relief and joy. Joy probably due the painkillers finally kicking in. The families rejoiced in the safe birth of a healthy child. The father however, while he cried with joy, he held his new-born daughter and thought how lucky he was. Then another thought entered his mind. One that would fester for 21 years until it finally erupted into a full force of action.
I’m going to have to get her married.
The father put the thought to the back of his mind where it lingered until the daughter became 18, old enough to go to university and move out. It was then he planned to find a man suitable for his daughter, for his family for her to marry when she completed her degree. Little did he know how stubborn the daughter would grow to become. She was after all his daughter.
So nearly 22 years ago the father held his new-born, the thoughts passed and remained dormant till the time came. But that was the beginning. That day marked the birth of Mrs Bennet.
I’m going to have to get her married.
The father put the thought to the back of his mind where it lingered until the daughter became 18, old enough to go to university and move out. It was then he planned to find a man suitable for his daughter, for his family for her to marry when she completed her degree. Little did he know how stubborn the daughter would grow to become. She was after all his daughter.
So nearly 22 years ago the father held his new-born, the thoughts passed and remained dormant till the time came. But that was the beginning. That day marked the birth of Mrs Bennet.