Delia didnt take offense: She watched me, smiling, thoroughly pleased with herself, and said, When you get to know my point of view, you may change your mind. She said this so seriously and yet so kindly that I felt ashamed of myself for laughing at her. You may even apologize for laughing at me, she added as if she had read my thoughts. I do apologize, Delia, I said and truly meant it. Im terribly sorry for my rudeness. I was so surprised by your statements that I didnt know what to do. I glanced at her briefly, and added contritely, So I laughed. I dont mean social apologies for your conduct, she said, shaking her head in disappointment. I mean apologies for not understanding the plight of man. I dont know what youre talking about, I said uneasily. I could feel her eyes boring through me. As a woman, you should understand that plight very well, she said. You have been a slave all your life. What are you talking about, Delia? I asked, irritated by her impertinence. Then I immediately calmed down, certain that the poor Indian had no doubt an insufferable, overwhelming husband. Believe me, Delia, Im quite free. I do as I please. You might do as you please, but youre not free, she persisted: You are a woman, and that automatically means that youre at the mercy of men. Im not at the mercy of anybody! I yelled. I couldnt tell whether it was my assertion or my tone of voice that made Delia burst into loud guffaws. She laughed at me as hard as I had laughed at her before. You seem to be enjoying your revenge, I said, peeved. Its your turn to laugh now, isnt it? Suddenly serious, she said, Its not the same at all. You laughed at me because you felt superior. A slave that talks like a master always delights the master for a moment. I tried to interrupt her and tell her that it hadnt even crossed my mind to think of her as a slave, or of me as a master, but she ignored my efforts. In the same solemn tone she said that the reason she had laughed at me was because I had been rendered stupid and blind to my own womanhood. Whats with you, Delia? I asked, puzzled. Youre deliberately insulting me. Certainly, she readily agreed and giggled, completely indifferent to my rising anger. She slapped my knee with a resounding whack.
Posted on: Sat, 01 Feb 2014 12:58:28 +0000
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