Of age and a sprinkle of sage

Any attention to the popular culture will how Americans focus singularly on themselves. For them, it’s self before else. No confusion, no apologies. And I love that. I wish we could all be a little more like that. There’s a refreshing honesty to that, a sense of self preservation, this unimaginable lightness of being, this freedom from all that has the potential to shackle you.

And I envy them. I envy the simplicity with which they make their choices, the conviction they have in themselves, and the fact that they’re encouraged to think first for themselves and them for rest of the world. Minimum compromises, minimum heartaches. And here we are, constantly striving to make progress in our idealistic universe, where you focus more on what you can expect from others than on what you can expect out of yourself. Where what you feel and believe in, is held answerable to everyone in your life and their opinions. Where your choices, your decisions are held under a microscope by all and sundry, where neither self love nor self preservation are much cared about. Where the only thing that’s considered important is what ten other people think of you or your dreams.

And it’s not just your aspirations, dreams or simple wants. It’s also in the myriad hues of the relationships you are surrounded by. And boy, does age give you an upper hand in this country of ours! We wear it like a life jacket, which doesn’t merely protect us, it also creates a shield, a wall that makes us unchallengeable. Mustn’t that be a delight?! Ironically, this indomitable aspect of the personality is usually quite nicely spiced up with a generous dose of flexible vulnerability, which we bring in and showcase at the perfect moment. For where authority and aggression may often be challenged, cultural inferences be damned, it’s that fragility, that temporary display of weakness which awakens the dormant egos of the most humble of the lot, giving them a false sense of authority, as if they are in charge. And then, sorcery! The old ones simply sit and simper, at our mercy, when we still do their bidding. Oh, wonderful motherland, you are truly one in a million!  

Happy Women’s Day honey! Aren’t you lucky to have me?!

These social media messages dedicating women’s day to ” women who refuse to be anything but their fabulous selves” confuse me. Do we actually mean this? Because quite honestly, the first visual that crops in mind on reading statements like these is that of actual women who live by this ideology feeling offended to see themselves applauded for the day, while rest of their lives are a constant struggle for gaining acceptance for this very belief.

Every 8th of March there are fabulous posts, pictures, dedications, messages, HR packages in corporates and what not. I see former colleagues of mine go out for team lunches and post pictures with hashtags like “celebrating us” or “proud to be a woman” or “proud to be me”. And the same people on their anniversaries post long odes to their husbands, not celebrating the union of equals or the years of togetherness, but saying things like “thank you for choosing me, helping me. I am nothing without you.” Am I the only who gets puzzled by this duality? Or does it really exist? I see endless cases of women running households, wearing multiple hats daily, and still criticized for the smallest of things. Still get told to manage an additional thing or two. Still get ‘corrected’ for their manner of multi tasking. AND THEY DON’T SEE ANYTHING WRONG WITH IT. I don’t see them object to this. And yet, these very same women don’t support other women who do call a spade a spade, and refuse to compromise. They are quick to correct them, तो criticize their lack of obeisance, for valuing themselves as much (or more) than their partners.

I see mothers go easier on their sons than their daughters. And forget about the daughters-in-law and their expectations for equality. It’s a thing of amazement for some that there are joint families where different preferences are accommodated between the in laws and daughters-in-law by either side, be it food, daily schedules or dressing. That two contradictory ideologies can exist without endless friction or endless criticism. And that this is a basic expectation and not something requiring endless gratitude.

I remember the first few years couple of years of my marriage being full of inquisitive questions from my extended family regarding my new relationships and how ‘controlled’ or ‘free’ my ‘new phase of life’ was. I’m safely assuming a lot of that curiosity was centred around the fact that I’d married a person of my choice, who didn’t belong to the same community. And while that’s not a big deal in my family, the curiosity levels and silent judgements.. oof! They fly through the roof y’all! Could I continue to eat non veg, could I cook it in my new house, was I ‘allowed’ to wear non ethnic clothes, could I still meet and spend time with my friends, did I have any help with managing the house, was I willing to take on the full-time role of a homemaker, if I didn’t clear my CA exams before marriage would they be okay with me continuing to study? These are just of the questions. And the fact that none of these things were an issue, well, that meant I was certainly “privileged” and “lucky” because I was “allowed” to do this. And that maybe I should thank my luck that my in-laws are so understanding.

I know I SHOULD thank my luck, because I am lucky to have found a man who with whom I’m so perfectly compatible. That I’ve married into a family where we are willing to accept each other as we are, differences and all, and still care, respect each other. But it isn’t my luck or I’m not privileged that they treat me like an equal human being with thinking faculties, active wants and desires in life. I mean, they’re equally lucky to have found me and have me as a part of their lives, because I do add a certain amount of vibrance, bring a different perspective on things, and care for them as I would for my own blood family. So yes, I am lucky, but no, I’m not privileged and I certainly don’t think I am (nor should I ever be!) an exception.

Times have changed for sure. If I look around me, I’m surrounded by couples where men and women are both equal contributors to household incomes and in some cases women do earn more and men are okay with it – not grudgingly but with grace, and knowledge of the fact that those women deserve it! Even in case of couples where the woman is choosing (and I’m emphasising on CHOOSING HERE) to not work but manage her home, it’s not obligatory for her to justify her hours. They don’t belittle each other by nullifying one another’s individual contribution to their life together. And, like I said earlier, I am lucky to have such people around me, but no, these should NOT be exceptions. These things, and more besides these few examples, should be the norm. I am not naive enough to believe that it’s going to happen overnight, but the change can certainly not start with a mere wish of “Happy Women’s Day”.

It can be brought about gradually. It can be encouraged by teaching your boys to contribute more to the house and family, and respect every INDIVIDUAL’S choice; by teaching your girls to expect more from life, demand the best for themselves and from themselves, and to reiterate to themselves everyday that their sense of self worth and happiness is as important as anybody else’s. Stop assigning roles from the day a child is born, and burdening them with ideologies they seldom understand but are pressured to obey. Women’s Day isn’t, and shouldn’t be, an empty glorified celebration for social media or Hallmark/Archie’s franchises. Change your narrative first, before you pass on those trite messages on whatsapp the next time!