On our way back from Gir we’d stopped at Rajkot
for a day of shopping. While I was busy picking up stuff for the woman population of the family Naisha, round eyed, browsed the Chaniya Cholis
I have very little to say about Naisha’s taste in clothes. She can be trusted to pick out the most garish, loud, jhingjhang pieces of the lot. So lost was I in those gorgeous bandhanis that I completely forgot to distract her and she set her heart on one frothy creation. Before I could expressly forbid the buy she turned to The Husband who she has safely wrapped around her little finger.
And so we came home with the most dazzling of outfits. I was only grateful for the choice of colour.. predictably pink.. a nice pink I might add.
As Holi approached she remembered… “Mama”, she said cuddling up to me, “you said I could wear Chaniya Cholis for pujas and fastabals (festivals). Holi is a fastabal, isn’ it? So may I wear my new one?” Notice the use of ‘May I’ dear friends. Couple that with the most winning smile and of course the fool proof argument. Did I have a choice?
Come evening and we were off on our ‘Happy Holi’ visits. She was of course beyond happiness. Like always we spent some hours deciding how she should drape the dupatta and she finally decided she’d carry it on her hand.
|That's how she decided to carry her dupatta|
|Gosh these brothers...|
|... just won't let one pose in peace!|
As we were standing on the road along came a mother, a total stranger, on a two wheeler. She stopped by me and said, “I’ve been looking for a dress like that for my daughter. Where did you get it from?” I was stumped. Unbelievably enough there really are people who appreciate Naisha’s taste in clothes. Had she been older I’d have certainly got a ‘I told you so’ look from her. For now she preened till she popped.
Labels: Clothes, Naisha