There are no words.
My mother and I were up late tonight, chilling on her bed and watching Saturday Night Fever (her favorite movie since childhood--apparently underneath that repressed Indian schoolgirl was a female Bee Gee waiting to break free). During the dance on the light-up floor, my mother turns to me and says casually, "You know, your father and I went to a club like that once in the seventies."
I turn to stare at her. "Eh?"
"We didn't really know what to do there. We didn't smoke, or drink, and we didn't really know how to dance, so we left."
I stare some more.
"I was wearing a sari."
At which point I fell of the bed.
OMG my family. God help me, but I love them.
I turn to stare at her. "Eh?"
"We didn't really know what to do there. We didn't smoke, or drink, and we didn't really know how to dance, so we left."
I stare some more.
"I was wearing a sari."
At which point I fell of the bed.
OMG my family. God help me, but I love them.