Once upon a time (in 1967) our five siblings (elder brother did not listen to these stories) asked about many people, 'What have you heard of the story of theft?' We said, 'mango, tamarind, coconut, banana and rabi lemons . '
'Pretty Today I will tell you story about a wife.
'Wife stealing?'
'Yes, wife steals. How did I steal my wife, the story. '
Our grandmother died before our birth, so we did not see anyone. There was no picture of him in that era. We were always very curious about him. But my curiosity was not met for the mother to hear about her. So we jumped to listen to the story of the bridegroom's wife. 'Ese, the story of the wife of a robber!' We said among ourselves, 'It will be very funny, is not it? Tell them very much, hurry up. '
'When your grandmother was ten years old, I was fifteen. At that age, we got married. '
'Allah! At such a young age, which day is married?
'That day it would have been so.'
'Hey, you shut up! Empty Buckler! You tell him a lot.
'Yeah, listen. Marriage was done, but your grandmother wearing frock pants left her father's house.
'Why?'
'Your grandmother had not been a liayaka (subalika). If you do not have the time, the husband does not have to go home.
'What happens if the light?'
Our mother was passing by that time. He said to Manavai, 'Do not tell all the stories that you are father! Do not tell them these stories! '
On many occasions, he looked at his mother and said, 'Well, all right. Be the story of the wife of theft. Tell other stories, how?
'No, no, no.' We do not agree to hear other stories. To tell the story of the wife of the wife of theft. At the end of the court, after the darbar, it was decided that today, we will hear the story of wife stealing while sitting in the maternity house. And no one can talk about the story.