The Bangles She Left Behind

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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.

 

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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.