A woman's value

I find myself aghast, dumb founded and before I recover, I manage to just utter a timid ‘Ille’ meaning No in Tamil, not being sure why it was timid. I am fresh and clean after my morning bath and dressed in a loose purple T shirt paired with a khaki colour cargo pant that falls well below my knees. I ponder, question and re question my mind if it does not look decent.  Well, I feel super comfortable and quiet covered.

I am in Thiruvarur district of Tamil Nadu in Central University campus where my Dad is the VC, an eminent VC. I have come from the busy city of Mumbai with my not yet 2 year old toddler to spend some time with my Dad and laze around in the serene city of Thiruvarur, if that is at all possible with a super active toddler. I am in the VC bungalow in my bedroom with my toddler who is sitting on the bed all dressed up but pant less, to attend his play school in campus. I try to save his dignity from the eyes of the maids in my room who have just arrived for cleaning, by covering him up with a diaper. Oh, but I was mistaken because the eyes were on me and thank God not the toddler. The elderly aunt asks me in Tamil about the whereabouts of my ‘dupatta’. At first, I do not understand and at the second, I pretend not to understand and at the third or final, I say ‘Ille’ meaning No. Meanwhile, the other lady, not so elderly, with an ostensibly irritated look asks me if they can clean the bathroom and I agree trying to interpret if the lady is attempting to safely close the just initiated discussion or taking a side. I am unable to answer them anything else because of lack of knowledge in Tamil language.

I mentally plan of googling up an apt reply in Tamil, discussing it with my mother, calling up my Tamil friend from college, and what not. I think of asking her if we as women should be ashamed of our body and keep covering it with layers and layers. I step down the stairs to proceed with my daily activities with my thoughts also stepping down in its intensity. Oh, there were so many thoughts and even contradictory ones. Should I have got ‘salwar kameez’ and ‘dupatta’ with me? Would that have been better?

However, I know that I am aware of the exact dressing for mostly every occasion and place and I need not take such petty things to heart but somewhere within I am alert that these things which we can ignore and proceed with life are not as petty as we may make it appear or rather prefer making it appear. It is the mentality that is inbuilt in many people and actually may take a lifetime to change.

I carry on with life with disbelief of the incident today. I meet the ladies everyday choosing to ignore the incident every single day.      

Everyday struggles

As I struggle to get up from my bed not so early in the morning, I drag myself to the kitchen to prepare food to satiate the hungry souls in my house including myself. I switch on the light and exhaust fan as if seeking company from the brightness and noise of man made conveniences. I clumsily slide the glass window to take a peep into the so called nature consisting of tall buildings in Mumbai, with trees playing hide and seek and without wasting a minute, I am ready to shoo away the unwanted pigeon sitting peacefully on the tip of the pole by throwing a glass of water. Yes, at least pigeons in Mumbai do not mind the general ‘Shoo Shoo’ making me think of other practical ways to keep them away. Then, I begin to cook for the ‘Bade Sahab’ and the ‘Chote Sahab’, my husband and my toddler respectively comprehending whether my husband would come back from work today with a new sarcastic complaint of the lunch and if my toddler would relish his meal thus asking for more or distaste it leaving me with no other option but hastily prepare ‘fishie’ for him, his favourite.

Breakfast and lunch are ready, neatly kept on the dining table along with the packed lunch box for the husband as he comes dressed in business formals, without speaking a word only to gobble up his breakfast and rush to work facing the mad Mumbai traffic before that, somehow managing a Good bye and a very quick peck on my cheek and sometimes the toddler as well, if he is lucky. It makes me sigh with relief that the husband is off to office thus finishing half of my work but soon I realise that the toddler is up and I must run to him.

The whole day passes away in a jiffy with me running behind the toddler who thinks he is an adult and has his own say in each and everything which if not followed leads to a serious tantrum show where I am left with no choice but accept defeat at the end before losing my entire sanity, that makes me ponder a lot of times about why I did not accept defeat at the first go. I decide to carve some ‘Me’ time while the toddler dozes away but I eventually realise that making him sleep takes me two whole hours that leaves me so exhausted that I too soundly sleep with toddler. The day ends with making a good dinner to compensate for any wrong in the lunch and feeding the fussy and just awake toddler at the same time.  I question God that why is my toddler grumpy and I get the answer when I take him out to the park in the evening to quench his never ending energy and his hungry mind. I return home exhausted and he returns charged up to greet the just arrived bread winner of the family who has a long face, sweaty formals and a huge laptop bag hung to his front, to save his hard earned money from pick pocketers, as if just returned home from Kargil war. I diligently serve him ‘adrak wali chai’ and I assume that he is re energised but surprisingly his face remains quite long without a smile for the rest of the day seemingly catering to office tension. ‘Family who eats together, stays together’, so I insist that three of us at least have dinner together and finally few pleasantries are exchanged. The toddler, as if accumulated all his energy, wants to play with his father past midnight which doesn’t go so well with the husband and somehow all of us crash to bed with I reciting endless stories, poems and lullabies with intermittent breast feeding sessions.

With all of this mundane drama of life, I find myself rushing the next morning to pursue the same activities hurriedly and again throwing water at the pigeon but instantly missing it after it flies away as if it gave me great company, only to find it back at the pole and finding myself shooing it away again. Such is life. One is never happy or satisfied with the existing state in life. One who is content is either a sage or a moron. This is the story of a working mother who has taken a break from her career to spend some quality time with the toddler before he stops needing me. Was I happy as a working Mom balancing work and home or never being able to balance both? Am I happy as a stay at home Mom attending to baby duties and house hold work and missing my professional work, freedom and independence? The society always points fingers. We are the ones who need to stop caring about the society and try to be happy and enjoy each phase before it’s over.