From the feminist in me

This one is for you ladies.  I dont really like feminists, mostly because im more convinced by biology and evolution than feminism. And before you pick up the belan and charge at me, let me clarify that i do obviously believe in equal respect, equal rights and equal opportunity, but if you expect me to join a protest outside a beauty paegant, be prepared to be disappointed. I'll get to that in another post.

As i was cooking last night - which btw is not one my strengths and M (my husband) could vouch for that , given diplomatic immunity. I have these bouts of wanting to cook, and thats when i do. So i decided to make maharaja burgers with some chilly fries and baby corn. I made this pretty burger and set it on a pretty plate which we dont usually use, coz its heavy.. And i presented it to M. And then i made another one of my pretty maharaja butgers for myself, but i found myself pulling out the not-pretty plate - thats when i paused and thought to myself  - what exactly am i doing? Why am i not serving myself in the pretty plate. For those of you (especially men) thinking "its just a goddamn plate for godssake" - its not about the plate. Moving on. I pulled out the pretty plate, decorated it and promised to think about this after watching some mindless TV.

How many of you have heard this from your mothers while growing up - "arre bete pehle papa ko dinner serve kar do". How many times is the lady of the house served water or tea when she walks into the house. The examples are plenty, but the point im trying to make is, though we have been subjected to this kind of conditioning all through our childhood, its time to consciously avoid letting it affect us. More importantly, its time to teach our sons to be equally responsive to the needs of the women in their house and not turn them into a "punjabi puttar" - i hope my mom is reading this. And most importantly ladies, if you dont have the nerve to stand up for yourself, do the society some good by NOT bad mouthing the ones who do. Yes your are jealous , no you are not being pious and homely like a matrimonial ad.

Thankfully, the women in my family are strong and independent. Not the 21st century independent but definately the 20th century independent. They have a say, they participate in decision making, they lord over their children and can scream at their husbands in private, if required. And no, they are not disrespectful towards their husbands, they dont drink or smoke, they manage relatives beautifully, go out of their way to help each other and get along well enough with their mother-in-laws. 

YET - "arre bete pehle papa ko dinner serve kar do" 

Though i can gladly say that luckily im married into a family where women from both generations are sent to work with a kiss on the cheek every morning. They are welcomed home with a hug in the evening. If they are tired or unwell, they are instructed to stay in bed and are served food. The men here have very smartly figured out that women appreciate these bits (in daily life) more than expensive gifts. Saves them alot of expense too :)

However, as i was writing this i got a call from my mother. And as she told me about her day, she said - "arre beta (yes thats what she always says)  aajkal main subah late uthti hoon, papa jaldi uth ke dadi aur mere liye chai banate hain"  how sweet ! Late in life, but much needed. So proud of all you lovely men.

Unfamiliar Territory

Its a cold winter morning, something i have not experienced before on a weekend. And yet, here i am wide awake at 6.30 am. I have only my work to blame. Every weekday i leave home at 7am, which ofcourse is a torture in winters, but what'll you do. But somehow, earlier, my body knew weekdays from weekends; which is no longer the case.

So yes, i wake up and its still dark outside, and im sitting in my cozy bed, in my snugly warm room and start doing what i do best - thinking. As a child, i went to these weekly 'development' (i really dont have a better word) classes. They are a big part of my childhood memories. I dint quite understand their importance at that point, but now, im sort of proud of them. Though these classes had a religious tilt to them, which i understood much later, they were a form of missionaries popularising their sect by catching us early. But, for the most part they worked on the gurukul model.

As most of us know, in ancient India, education was mostly verbal. So we went to these classes, twice a week, we were taught shlokas from ancient scriptures. We recited these shokas enough number of times to learn them very well and also to understand what each word meant.

So coming back to my cold morning, one of the shlokas we learnt was to be recited looking at  your palms as soon as you open your eyes. It was an ode to the work we do with our hands. Clearly alot has changed since. I no longer wake up and religiously look at the palms of my hands and pray to my work. Instead, i wake up, reach for my ipad on my bedside table, as i open it, facebook stares back at me and asks, "How are you feeling, Priyanka?"