I don’t know why I called her the Green Doll, she was anything but green. She was wearing a green frock when I first saw her. May be that’s why. As a small girl of five, that’s how I would call her. I guess I had a name for her too, though for the life of me I can’t remember now.
Anyway, she was my first doll. My papa had bought it for me on one of his frequent visits to Delhi. It wasn’t a very beautiful doll, nor was it extraordinary to write home about. It didn’t look anything like her more hot and popular sister, Barbie. She was quite plump. She had golden hair and golden eye lashes. But still, she was my favorite. I was so taken in with her that I took her with me everywhere, even to the washroom sometimes. Oh, the whims of a child!
I even requested my mama to stitch clothes for her. The poor lady already had her hands full minding three small children. But she still stitched clothes for my green doll. New frocks in various colors. I had frequent tea parties and I would invite my neighbors (who had dolls of course) to them. Having attended a wedding, I decided overnight that I need to marry off my doll. That’s what people did to girls. They married them off. So I started looking for a suitable suitor for my little baby. But I needed to look no further as my neighbor next door had a handsome male doll. We arranged a wedding. On a Sunday evening, I invited all my neighborhood kids for the grand wedding of my doll. My mother stitched a beautiful bling-bling ghaghra-choli for the doll and prepared a few kiddie snacks. What fun it was! At the end of the wedding, my neighbor carried my doll to her home. I bid my darling good bye.
I couldn’t sleep the night. I was missing my doll. I started crying. The next morning I woke up early, went to my neighbor and demanded my doll back. And she outrightly refused. “Your doll is my son’s bride and my daughter-in-law. She will stay in my house forever.” Big words for a tiny girl.
But I didn’t stand there to tolerate her nonsense. I went straight into her room, snatched my doll who was sleeping with my neighbor’s doll on her bed and ran away from her house before she could understand what was happening. Well, I should mention here that my neighbor didn’t talk to me after that episode. For one whole week. But I had my doll forever. I also vowed to no more weddings for my dolls.
My little daughter has a few dolls too. A green, a pink and a brown one. They are the color of their dresses, of course. When she is in the mood, she combs their hair, cuddles them and fusses over them like a mother. And when she’s had it, she flings them down or breaks their limbs. I hope, when she’s a little older, she too organizes little tea parties with her dolls and invites her friends over. Wouldn’t it be a delight!
Yes, as long as she doesn’t insist on marrying them off.