The Bangles She Left Behind
Gayatri Patel
I slip golden bangles onto my wrist,
I hear their delicate jingle as I pin up my dupatta
But I am forced to remember
Bangles like mine clinked like shackles
On my grandmother’s arms
Trapped in an unwanted marriage
At the mere age of nineteen
Already a mother of two daughters
A third on the way in hopes of a son
Her bangles chime as she stirs the pot of dal
Her world limited to the four walls of her husband’s home
Her hands bear the weight of duty
Never granted the luxury of choice
Decades later, my mother wears these bangles
The story is a little different this time
At the ripe age of nineteen she comes to America
Forced to give up her education and find multiple jobs
Forced to give up her dreams for her younger brother
She supports her family alongside her father for six years
Her dream of opening her own business fades away
She turns twenty five
Gets tied to an arranged marriage with a man she had met only twice
At the age of thirty two, a mother of one son
A second on the way, in hopes of a daughter this time
Almost a century later, a new story is written
At the age of nineteen
I sit in the library of my university
Given the opportunity to pursue an education
One my grandmother never could dream of
One that my mother could only dream of
I make my own choices, pave my own path
Wearing my bangles, not as shackles
But as my pride and a reminder
Of wrists that worked, of dreams that broke,
Of women who walked so I could run.
Gayatri Patel is a student of the class of 2028 at the School of Arts and Sciences Honors Program pursuing a double major in political science and English on a pre-law track.