Check out the ultimate guide to 16 return-to-work programs in India for women
A mom takes a stand on how her child should be named, convincing the establishment in her small way - and that this should be the norm everywhere.
A mom takes a stand on how her child should be named, convincing the establishment in her small way – and that this should be the norm everywhere.
A lot of her classmates ask my daughter why she has two initials for her middle name. She says to them “one is for my father.” And the other? “Why of course, my mum. Who else?”
On one hot and sweaty afternoon, I found myself standing in Kiara’s school office lining up to verify her details in her school register. The clerk asked me “what’s your child’s mother tongue?”
“It’s Marathi.” I answered.
“But isn’t Karir a North Indian surname?” She enquired.
“Oh yes it is. Her father is a Punjabi.” I replied.
“But you said her mother tongue is Marathi.” continued the inquisitive clerk.
“You asked me for her mother tongue, didn’t you? Or was it father tongue?” I was getting irritated partly because of her audacity and mostly because of the heat.
The poor clerk was a bit perplexed. Moving on to the next column she asked me my daughter’s complete name.
“Kiara Anand Sunila Karir,” I helpfully offered.
But I have place for only the first name, middle name and last name. What sort of a name is this?”
“You asked me her complete name. And that’s what it is. Anand is her father and Sunila is her mother. Make space in your form for both or neither.”
“But I have to write a middle name.”
I glared at her and perhaps that did the job faster. She quickly made space for two middle names. Ever since, she has been Kiara A. S. Karir. And that’s what she is… on her certificates and forms. It’s a name she is proud of because it has her daddy.. .as well as her mummy.
Satisfied with the rest of the details, I turned around to leave the room as the next parent took her place.
“What’s your child’s name?” She asked the lady. “Karan Manish Sunanda Rawat”. The woman proudly replied. As I overheard this, I turned around and looked towards her. I saw her looking back at me with a big grin on her face as the clerk shook her head in amusement. There were three other mothers, who were waiting for their turn.
All equally in tandem with what had happened, I’m guessing. I’m sure the clerk noted that from next year, they would have to make an extra column on the form.
A small step for these moms and me, and hopefully, a big step for mothers everywhere.
Published here earlier.
Image source: Flickr, for representational purposes only
I write because I love to express myself through words. And I am a communicator. I run an advertising agency where we combine creative expression and try to add a sheen to the brands we read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
Why is the Social Media trend of young mothers of boys captioning their parenting video “Dear future Daughter-in-Law, you are welcome” deeply problematic and disturbing to me as a young mother of a girl?
I have recently come across a trend on social media started by young mothers of boys who share videos where they teach their sons to be sensitive and understanding and also make them actively participate in household chores.
However, the problematic part of this trend is that such reels or videos are almost always captioned, “To my future daughter-in-law, you are welcome.” I know your intentions are positive, but I would like to point out how you are failing the very purpose you wanted to accomplish by captioning the videos like this.
I know you are hurt—perhaps by a domestic household that lacks empathy, by a partner who either is emotionally unavailable, is a man-child adding to your burden of parenting instead of sharing it, or who is simply backed by overprotective and abusive in-laws who do not understand the tiring journey of a working woman left without any rest as doing the household chores timely is her responsibility only.
Please enter your email address