70. "Say it for God's Sake, Say it" / Part XV
Mum wasn’t naïve enough, however, to buy my defensive claim that Martin was like any other suitor. “Is he?” Mum asked, arching her eyebrow. “Well, listen up Liana,” she carried on with a firmer tone. “Dina has told me everything that I needed to know, but I want to hear it from you now; and when I say everything, I mean it, Liana! You hear me? Everything!”
I straightened slightly, leaning my back against the headboard, and I sat still for a few moments, my heart thumping wildly, and my mind trying hard to marshal its jumbled thoughts in preparation for the arduous “cross examination.” Well, it was judgment day alright! Notwithstanding, it dawned on me that I mustn’t bury my head in the sand and indulge myself in wishful thinking. For any further attempt to blot out or obscure the truth had not only become utterly unfeasible, but was also futile since it wasn’t going to serve any purpose. Moreover, I was racing with time. Martin was in the process of arranging for his final departure in the space of a few days. The need for a quick normalization had become all the more pressing. Above all, without my parents’ consent, there was going to be no marriage. Culture and tradition had granted them exclusive rights to decide upon the fate of the romance. And however ironic this might seem, the final decision, whatever it was, could be only partly mine, but entirely theirs since they had the right of veto. Wisdom consequently dictated a full, but cautious, disclosure.
In the absence of any relevant experience, my instinct was my only beacon to guide me through the challenge, inspiring me to put the matter as lightly and thinly as possible before Mum. The encounter seemed awfully daunting. It was the first time that I experienced being on my own, and facing ironically the people I loved most, for the sake of the man I loved passionately. In the midst of the relief of unburdening myself after six months of the utmost secrecy, I also intuited that Mum’s fears for me were intertwined with her boundless love for me. I seemed embarked on a war in which I was fighting for my right to love against my parents’ love for me. Despite being upset and furious with, and befuddled by, Martin’s weird demeanor, I never doubted his eventually asking for my hand in marriage. And since time was becoming precious with every passing moment, it was necessary to pave the way for Martin’s first step.
And I let it all out, wrapping up the saga of six months into two hours, which tightened my nerves like the strings of a bow. Observing mum’s face twitching, or changing color at any mention I would make of even the most trivial romantic occurrences, no matter how lightly or softly or thinly I conveyed them, froze the blood in my veins. Yet apart from two or three cold questions, Mum sustained the role of a perfect listener.
Luckily Dina did not abandon me, having joined the session at the beginning. She was awfully supportive, and never refrained from extending the hand of help when one was needed.
The one crucial question that I could not answer was whether Martin’s first marriage was a civil or religious one, simply because I myself truly didn’t know. Well, even though Dina had brought up this impeding hurdle earlier to my attention, making it undoubtedly clear that our marriage was going to be pronounced dead if his first marriage proved to be a religious one, I never asked, or more truly, never dared to ask, despite setting my teeth on probing this perturbing issue with him more than once. Well, I guess I dreaded the fatal answer.
Enveloped in an apparent fog of worry, Mum’s features, towards the end, registered immense anxiety, and utter discontent. It seemed as if she realized that her inherently stubborn Liana was evidently going to stick to her guns no matter what.
I straightened slightly, leaning my back against the headboard, and I sat still for a few moments, my heart thumping wildly, and my mind trying hard to marshal its jumbled thoughts in preparation for the arduous “cross examination.” Well, it was judgment day alright! Notwithstanding, it dawned on me that I mustn’t bury my head in the sand and indulge myself in wishful thinking. For any further attempt to blot out or obscure the truth had not only become utterly unfeasible, but was also futile since it wasn’t going to serve any purpose. Moreover, I was racing with time. Martin was in the process of arranging for his final departure in the space of a few days. The need for a quick normalization had become all the more pressing. Above all, without my parents’ consent, there was going to be no marriage. Culture and tradition had granted them exclusive rights to decide upon the fate of the romance. And however ironic this might seem, the final decision, whatever it was, could be only partly mine, but entirely theirs since they had the right of veto. Wisdom consequently dictated a full, but cautious, disclosure.
In the absence of any relevant experience, my instinct was my only beacon to guide me through the challenge, inspiring me to put the matter as lightly and thinly as possible before Mum. The encounter seemed awfully daunting. It was the first time that I experienced being on my own, and facing ironically the people I loved most, for the sake of the man I loved passionately. In the midst of the relief of unburdening myself after six months of the utmost secrecy, I also intuited that Mum’s fears for me were intertwined with her boundless love for me. I seemed embarked on a war in which I was fighting for my right to love against my parents’ love for me. Despite being upset and furious with, and befuddled by, Martin’s weird demeanor, I never doubted his eventually asking for my hand in marriage. And since time was becoming precious with every passing moment, it was necessary to pave the way for Martin’s first step.
And I let it all out, wrapping up the saga of six months into two hours, which tightened my nerves like the strings of a bow. Observing mum’s face twitching, or changing color at any mention I would make of even the most trivial romantic occurrences, no matter how lightly or softly or thinly I conveyed them, froze the blood in my veins. Yet apart from two or three cold questions, Mum sustained the role of a perfect listener.
Luckily Dina did not abandon me, having joined the session at the beginning. She was awfully supportive, and never refrained from extending the hand of help when one was needed.
The one crucial question that I could not answer was whether Martin’s first marriage was a civil or religious one, simply because I myself truly didn’t know. Well, even though Dina had brought up this impeding hurdle earlier to my attention, making it undoubtedly clear that our marriage was going to be pronounced dead if his first marriage proved to be a religious one, I never asked, or more truly, never dared to ask, despite setting my teeth on probing this perturbing issue with him more than once. Well, I guess I dreaded the fatal answer.
Enveloped in an apparent fog of worry, Mum’s features, towards the end, registered immense anxiety, and utter discontent. It seemed as if she realized that her inherently stubborn Liana was evidently going to stick to her guns no matter what.
To Be Continued>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
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