It is not uncommon in my household to be a student. I mean, a student at any age. I have a maternal aunt who is 76 years and pursuing a Phd in Hindi Literature or my perpetually-in-an-exam-hall uncle. He is either writing an exam or invigilating one, pretty much all the time. So, it is only natural I wanted to study some more.
Or, so I thought.
But my decision to study (again) sent chills down amma’s spine.
She was horrified.
I was confused.
It is not like, I said I wanted to hang myself in the middle of Ranganathan street or something. All I said was I wanted to study. I did have valid reasons for that. In an ideal world inhabited with sane people, this would have looked like a good thing. But no…no no no. Hell broke loose at home. Became a classic case of “lady doth protest a lot”. Apparently, this decision had a lot to consider. And all this while, I had been thinking securing an admission and finances were the only concerns. But the order of concerns ranged from future-mother-in-law’s approval to what-will-I-tell-the-relatives. The biggest one, how-can-I-send-you-away-without-getting-you-married took all the lime light. None of them made sense to me.
So, I did what always did – went ahead with my decision.