The ex and I had this fight recently.
It is a fictional fight. If you read on you’ll know what I mean.
There is this solid brass statue on one of the living room side tables – A miniature winged horse. It’s about the size of a chihuahua and was named ‘Aurther’. (The artist named it. God knows why.) For a statue the size of a small dog, it is also monstrously heavy. The ex lugged it back all the way from Hawaii.
I didn’t warm to this statue right away but it has, over time, eventually grown on me. It is a seriously Punjabi statue. How can I explain what that means to non-desi’s?
It’s kitsch, colourful and a bit sentimental. Three things I associate wholly with the Punj.
It’s the ex’s baby – A source of pride and joy.
We were debating one sunny afternoon, how lovely it would be if the horse came to life one day. (Well I wasn’t debating this. This is the ex’s fantasy.)
“Imagine if we’d have our own flying horse…”
the ex theorized.
“How amazing. How lovely. We’d keep in the house on a golden leash..”
(or something to that effect.)
But what if it came to life and one day wanted to fly away into the great open sky? To be free as it were?
I suggested. What if it didn’t want the golden leash?
Side note: I’ve always wondered if the statue brought to life by Pygmalion would have really loved him back.
Perhaps she might for a little while, but what if it began to pall? Perhaps she’d want to leave. Perhaps a younger, up and coming, more talented sculptor would lure her away from her old creator.
Also, surely Pygmalion’s ideal of this perfect woman, carved in cold stone would never really hold true once she was a living, breathing person and had independent thought (not to mention that-time-of-the-month hormonal temper tantrums. That’ll scupper the romance if anything would.)
Perhaps Pygmalion would even resent her having independent thought. Challenging him. Arguing. Having periods.
Besides there must have been a reason he couldn’t find a girl to go out with him in the first place. He must have had some personality and/or hygiene issues.
Frankly I just don’t see the relationship working out.
Anyway, the little flying horse might want to fly away.
The ex said
“Oh then I’ll kill it.”
Perfectly casually and quite seriously.
“What? Why?? Why would you do something like that? Why would you kill it?”
“I won’t let it fly away. I wont allow it. I’ll kill it.”
I’m genuinely appalled for this poor fictional creature.
I tell the ex I’ll secretly free from its golden cage in the middle of the night it and tell it to fly, fly away quickly and never come back!
Then the ex was annoyed with me. I mustn’t do such a thing!
I insisted I would free it if the ex was going to kill it (Obviously. What else would I do?)
The ex said,
“‘No! I will only kill it if it wants to leave. Otherwise it can live.”
“You can’t kill it! If you love it you would let it go free!”
I argue hopelessly.
We eventually reached a stalemate.
I will surreptitiously free the poor oppressed flying mini horse. The ex would lovingly kill it.
I quite enjoy fictional arguments. The ex, not so much. Especially since I let the flying horse escape.