Feminist Flash Fiction 2011 – My Feminist Husband
It’s time to grab a coffee or a china cup’s worth of fine tea, settle down in a horsehair-padded armchair and read the ten shortlisted entries for FEMINIST FLASH 2011. Feminist poetry and flash fiction at its finest.
MY FEMINIST HUSBAND
by R. Venkatarayan
I am a feminist, he had told me on our first meeting.
We were soon married.
We had demanding careers, but it was okay. He cooked, I did the dishes. I watered the plants, he ironed the clothes.
You are blessed, girlfriends cooed.
Our first baby was a boy, we named him Aryabhata.
Aryabhata needed a mother to care for him, but my husband pointed out that all he needed was a parent. He became a stay-at-home-dad, for his career could afford a sabbatical, mine couldn’t.
You are lucky, the universe said.
We need a daughter, my husband said during a post-sex cuddle, the world needs more girls.
When Aryabhata turned four, we adopted Advaita.
A perfect family, the neighbours said.
A few days after we brought Adavita home, Arybhata asked his father, Appa, shouldn’t Advaita’s room be pink?
I was in the kitchen, my eye on the simmering curry and my ear waiting for what my husband would say.
Yes, said the father.
Once we painted the walls pink, there was no looking back. Our world divided into pink and blue. And the colours never spoke to each other.
With thanks to BUST magazine! xxx