Mehrae-Di-Hatti，手工珠宝和回忆，来自1931
没找到这篇文案的原图，明天去谷歌试试吧。印度手工珠宝的文案，记入很多文案教材，而我觉得这原文很美。
It was 3 a.m. in a cold,cold winter.She woke you up gently.And patted her stomach."I think it's time,"she said.
You tried not to panic,reached for the car keys,opened the door as wide as it would go and whisked her off into the night.
The dull grey hospital waiting-room did nothing to ease the tension.
And there wasn't even a cigarette in sight ,dammit.
More tension.Old,unread magazines. And the first few rays of dawn.Then a nurse in a starched white uniform tiptoed up to you."It's a girl,"she said.
Nothing prepared you for the years to come.
Her first word.Her first tooth. And the never ending nappy changes.Then school.Ice-cream bribes.
And new maths that completely foxed you.Followed by pimples.Parties. And waiting up till she was safely home at night.
There was no way you could thank her enough for coming into your life.But you tried.With diamonds almost as precious as her teardrops. And gold as radiant as her smile.
Today your baby was going away.To light up somebody else's life.There was the sound of the shehnai ,laughter.And merry-making. The vibrant colours of sarees.Sindoor.Mehendi.And marigolds.
But you were back in a pale gray waiting-room. The fan was whirring ceaselessly overhead.You could hear the sound of approaching footsteps.And a voice whisper softly to you."It's a girl,"the voice said,and you smiled.
Mehrae-Di-Hatti，手工珠宝和回忆，来自1931。
窃以为在印度重男轻女的社会里，这样的故事是为受过高等教育的人而写的，后面的“宠爱年华”篇和“寄宿学校”篇都印证了这一点。那些高尚无尘的爱护之心，通过故事，寄寓于珠宝，如此动人。