Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • When I was a little girl, like all young children I loved to play with shadows, making odd shapes on the wall, telling my cousins fantastical stories and they doing likewise. I used to dance around with my shadow with careless abandon. Then one day, my grandmother told me to stop playing with my shadow. She must have been annoyed that day, and I pleaded “why? But why granny?” It’s something all kids do, questioning the weirdness and somewhat nonsensical ways of the adults! And then, because adults need to control kids to some degree, to “protect” them (so they say) and to some degree they’ve forgotten how it’s like to be a child, they tell you equally nonsensical things and make up all sorts of stories. Well, I guess that’s where story-telling is at its best! But when it’s something negative it’s not so nice, and this one was one of those for me. My grandmother told me, you better stop otherwise you are going to be stuck being small like your shadow. Aghast I thought that’s it, I’m never going to be a grown-up. Unlike Peter Pan, I did want to be a grown-up. I prayed to Shiva!
    It turned out that I didn’t grow much: all of 4.9” and I wonder if it’s to do with me playing with my shadow. But then I realized that I actually come from the Land of Lilliputians! (i.e every-one in my family is fairly short) so I accepted my being short as gracefully as a short person does. Which, according to Siddhartha, my six foot husband, is not so graceful of short people much! Apparently one of the hallmarks of a shortie is their prevalent defensiveness and sense of injustice which makes them angry and leads them to wage wars and all sorts of crazy things! I said defiantly, “perhaps that’s something short men suffer from but it’s a different matter with women” and he laughed as if I had just proved his point in action!
    When I was growing up (well not much in height!) people around me who were growing taller and taller began to call me munchkin and all sorts of names but mostly these were cute names and I didn’t mind it at all. But when I started working and I would be commuting in the rush hour to work( I was living in London at the time), I noted how I used to bump into people so much. I thought I was clumsy like anything and I was telling my “tall” friend about this and she said, “well, you see, its not your fault actually, it’s us lot, we don’t see you coming! We look straight ahead not down when we are walking!” Then I seriously considered whether I should wear a big top hat with a sign saying: “Warning, Mind the short person approaching!”
    Actually venturing out of Lilliput and into the World of the Tall (for me), was when I married Siddhartha and we were buying furniture, we had to ensure that the bed was big enough length wise, something of a concept I never had to worry about my entire life up until then. Also buying mirrors for the bathrooms were a hassle because if they were too small, they couldn’t include his face and mine if set at the same level. Thus large mirrors were required.
    But being short does have its benefits. I always have ample leg room whether on the plane or the train or the car! I can curl up and sleep in a small tight space! Which is helpful because despite the big bed I share with Siddhartha, his hands and legs sprawl out and occupy the whole bed with little me tucked away in the corner! I can still sit on people’s laps (if needed, such as big family trips in small cars!) And when I choose to act the damsel in distress and make a man feel really needed and worthy of existence, I croon on tiptoes, “oh, I just can’t reach that, would you be so kind to get that for me!” And then relish in the look of delightful purpose on their faces! So, yes, sometimes it’s real fun being “little”!
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.