Hailed from a culturally-oriented
family–where everyone is an erudite to heritage including odds and ends–I’m no
exclusion to this way of life. All that we fetter or share, each kin is cognizant
whether it’s about ties or cliques or taboos. Paying respect for instance, addresses
are unambiguously classified–to use and don’t. For this reason, I can’t call my
father “Aya” (daddy) or vice versa–only
royal-blooded clans can.
A nephew (my cousins’
immediate family) has just called me “Aya”.
His kind word chilled and honored me–so thankful–but just couldn’t defy the
meaning of the word.
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