Читать книгу Jaya and Rasa. A Love Story - Sonia Patel - Страница 10

PRONOUNS

A purple-and-white taffeta dress hung on the door to Jaya’s bathroom. She hated it! Despite her mother’s demand that she wear it to their formal housewarming party that evening, she was not about to let it touch her body. She’d find a way out. Maybe some spilled fruit punch? Jaya giggled to herself at the thought.

She shifted her eyes from the dress to the wall mirror. She studied the reflection of her naked nine-year-old body.

Chestnut brown skin. Wide brown eyes. Coarse, shoulder-length black hair. Gujarati Indian girl. Gujarati Indian girl? Why not a Gujarati Indian boy?

Back when they lived in Niu Valley, Jaya always wore clothes selected by her mother, even though Jaya thought those dresses, skirts, blouses, and Indian outfits her mother preferred were too girly, too dainty.

But Jaya wanted to please her mother.

The move to the Kahala mansion changed everything abruptly. Jaya and her parents spent much less time together. In Niu Valley, Sanjay was home every evening. These days, he rarely came home at night. And Jayshree seemed fixed on her husband and his whereabouts. Her attention to her daughter waned. As for Jaya, she didn’t feel like she had to do what her mother wanted so much anymore.

She studied the gaudy dress. It reminded her of a straight jacket.

I’m not wearing it!

Her mother—and everyone for that matter—wanted Jaya to be so very feminine. It was too much, she didn’t want to be like that.

I don’t want to wear that dress!

Jaya shook her head.

Why can’t I wear a button-down shirt and long pants to the party? Because it makes me look like a boy? Well, guess what, people? Maybe I am!

Jaya tugged on her hair, then her skin. Her belly. Her cheeks. Her flesh stretched a bit but didn’t come off. She pounded her fists onto her breast buds and started crying.

She turned on the shower. When it was warm enough, she stepped into the tub. She let the rush of water comfort her for a few minutes. The tears stopped. She started to wash her hair.

Maybe I am a boy.

She squeezed her eyes tight to rinse out the shampoo. She pictured two children who resembled her. One was dressed in a polo shirt and chino shorts, his hair short and spiky. So cool. The other had on the purple-and-white dress. Her hair was in two braids down her back. They were standing in front of a door. Jaya the boy hugged Jaya the girl and wished her well. She stepped into the doorway, turned, and waved. Then she closed the door behind her and disappeared.

Jaya reached for the bar of soap and lathered up.

A big smile spread across her face.

Her face? No, his face. Yes, now it was his face.