Hi there, well few days back I was casually debating on status of women in India with my Husband… We often debate on such topics sometime end up even arguing….(guess we do so when we realise that we have not fought for long time).. apparently he asked…”do you know the opposite of feminism?” I exactly don’t know what that would be… Anti Feminism perhaps… I could just stammer…
But I kept wondering… Is it good that we have the word “feminism” so popular or is not having a male counterparts more better?… Maybe the second one…I have heard people define the word feminism as… “The flag women put to get their way out”
Well I feel still we have a long long way to go to understand what women mean by the word feminism…. It has been ages that women has been suppressed. It is the pity that even women has accepted the patriarchal system of the society that they themselves feel inferior to men..
There are lots of such “tradition” (as called by anti-feminist) in every indian home that means women are inferior…. I personally oppose all such traditions… (Although many times end up following those)be it being confined to the spaces of kitchen till being asked in big decisions… Everywhere it is the same…
Maybe someday the situation may change… However with the societal reforms that I see happening, I am sure it gonna take generations to come… What do you say?
I have been a lot of things in my life, a student, a mentor, an employee, a wife, a mother and what not, but the only thing constant is being a daughter. In your life you can select all relations but not the parents. I just realized that yesterday that the most purest for of relations you have is with your parents (i.e. a relation you never selected)
Well, being a daughter is a forever thing. Today I have grown up an also have a family of my own still I get the same treatment what I used to get when I was a child. It seems that the daughters never get old for parents. I feel humbled by the great gift received by the creator called daughter. I have not done anything to be deserved to be their daughter.
I am fortunate to have had a childhood that was playful, happy and enjoyable. My parents made me what I am today. They loved me unconditionally. As a child I was always given more attention than my younger bro (I still tease him for the same) maybe because I was a daughter. I still remember once at about 6-7 years of age I wanted a “Kitchen Set” as the birthday gift from my parents. I had clearly communicated to my mum and insisted that is should get one. I had even supported my demands by explaining that all girls in my school have one except for me. However, my demands were never met and I never go that gift. I argued, cried, pleaded, fought.. nothing worked. Today I realize being a mom that My mom did not want me to play with gender specific toys.
Also, being the daughter the relation with your Mum get most complex. I mean I don’t know if my mum is a guide, companion, friend, sister or what. sometimes she is a healer when I am in pain. Sometimes my guide when I am confused. Sometimes she keeps my secrets when we gossip. Sometimes she also scolds me like a teacher and demands like a boss. Perhaps that is why she is called as Mum. Many people find me to be an exact copy of her and that happens to be the best compliment I can ever get.
My parents have always been the voice in my head. The are my strengths, my pillars and anchors of my life. Anything that I do now is rooted who my parents have always been to me. How they have treated me and loved me and disciplined me.
All I can say is “Thank God for making me their daughter and the most pious role Daughterhood”
It was a year back when I found out that I was carrying. The news brought lifelong happiness to entire family. While my husband and family were rejoicing, a part of me was terrified. I still don’t know if the dilemma is faced by all new mother but surely I was not the happiest.
The identity that comes with motherhood is not something you can prepare for. No books/ teacher/ pamphlets can teach you motherhood. well, the journey has not been easy for me either. From sleep deprived nights, the hormonal imbalance, the morning sickness to increasing body weight everything added to my misery. The most terrifying was the thought on how am I going to fulfill the responsibilities of baby. To think of it I am still dependent on my Mum/Dad for most of my existence… Then how am I on earth is going to be a Mom? These thoughts kept me awake for many many nights altogether..
When Shlok was born, I abruptly went into heart failure. There were too many emotions all fighting together to be visible. The hormones were having difficult time to control the emotions. I had a ceaserian delivery and hence the only emotion that was loudly seen was of pain. The pain generating from the stitches was killing me already. Trust me I was nowhere thinking about the baby. It was only after the pain subsided the next day that I was able to take the baby in my arms.
I would not be wrong if I say that the motherly emotions generated slowly and gradually. It was not spontaneous from the start.
However I think it was the smaller things that worked for me i.e holding baby, his small cries, his subtle was of looking for me, calming in my arms, feeding and much more.
There are only rewards of being a Mom.. this I can say after five and half months of being a Mother. Today I feel grateful for being a Mom everyday, every second. It’s great to see your baby growing a little everyday… His first smile, his babling… holding your finger everything is just so special. I am grateful for growing a family.
As such, one day cannot be enough to cherish the fact of being a Mom. The challenge being real, but the pleasure of being in the class of mums is invaluable.
‘Jashodaba” everyone used to called her. She was the agony aunt of entire neighborhood. Motherly love for an infant i.e. me care and concern for all and much more she had to offer. The only jewelry she always adorned was a smile. it was more contagious and whomsoever came in contact with her, always left with a smile.She was most trusted to my Mum who was most closer to her. Mum tells me, that Jashodaba had met mum when she was roaming door to door asking for domestic work. Jashodaba pleaded mum for some work. Reluctantly mum agreed as mum was doing her Post Graduation and she need somebody to take care of me when she goes for studies. That is how Jashodaben became our family member.
Days passed by and Jashodaben with her honesty and simplicity won hearts of all. She not only took care of me, but also the entire household. She took meager salary and used to sleep in the courtyard which was at the center of our house. She never told anything about her family and always insisted that we were her only family. With time, we all became more and more dependent on her.
Soon after, mum was about to complete her final exams. She told Jashodaba, “Ba, my exams are ending. Soon I will be at home for entire time.” Mum was happy as she would now be able to spend more time with me. Well, the exams were over in a weeks time.
One day, as usual Mom and Dad were sleeping in their room at night. It would be around 2:30 am when mum woke up hearing a noise. She thought she might be dreaming and hence ignored the noise and went back to sleep. But a few seconds later she again heard a noise rather a scream. The scream shook her up from head to toe as she has the scariest nightmare of her life.
From the window she saw a long figure fully engulfed in fire moving here and there in the courtyard. Flames reaching the skies. Mum froze in fear and she could only call out her pacifies. “Jashodaba, Jashodaba where are you? There is a fire in the courtyard.” There was no response. It took a minute for Mom and Dad to realize that it was Jashodaba herself who was engulfed in fire. They panicked however somehow the fire was put to end. Hearing cries the entire neighborhood has come for rescue. After 15 minutes there was pin drop silence everywhere. We never knew how but the police had come and registered a suicide case. She was shifted to Government hospital where she was declared brought dead with 85% of burn injuries.
We could never swallow the fact that Jashodaba had committed suicide. Mum who was closest to her could never make out what pain Jashodaba had. The only reason we could conclude was that Jashodaba thought that since Mum’s exams were over, she might not need her now. Probably she never had a place to go. Whatever the reason be, but we had lost a family member.