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She gave me an invaluable tip, “Even if you have a family to take care of, it is you who must take care of yourself and your acute personal needs. Remember, even the most conscientious of spouses and offsprings have their shortcomings
The archetypal Indian woman has by and large been portrayed as a demure submissive obedient wife who seldom argues with her husband or back chats to the buzurg (aged relatives /senior citizens) In fact, there exists a Bangla phrase saat chawre raa kadey na (even if you slap her 7 times she doesn’t whimper).
This low profile requirement strengthens and intensifies further with childbirth and motherhood. Now she must sacrifice her ‘all’ for the sake of her progeny; quit a flourishing career if need be, minimise socialising, give up her hobbies and so forth.
Remember the oft-quoted Doordarshan of long ago wherein the mother – finding the food inadequate – says stoically “mera kya hai mai rukha sukha khaa loongi”(You eat, I’ll manage somehow)? The husband and the kids must be fed even if the lady goes to bed hungry. Nobody cares two hoots about her nutrition and health. Why should they? After all she is a woman!
This is the proverbial ghar ghar ki kahani in our society even today. Even in the most affluent of households, women’s needs mostly remain on the back burner. It could be that either the men folk are too preoccupied, or else the woman herself chooses to lie low the sake of domestic harmony.
Many years ago I was in conversation with (late) Dr. Manjushri Choudhury (wife of PadmaShri sitar maestro Debu Choudury) in connection with a women’s interest story. She gave me an invaluable tip, “Even if you have a family to take care of, it is you who must take care of yourself and your acute personal needs. Remember, even the most conscientious of spouses and offsprings have their shortcomings,” she had said. Her words still ring in my ears.
My paternal aunt had contacted TB. In spite of tell- tale signs like prolonged cough, weakness, and exhaustion she refused to see a doctor. My uncle didn’t insist either. She spent an entire year just making for herself chicken soup (among other things of course) which reportedly made her “feel better”. Finally when the disease had spun out of control she died on her way to the hospital.
Though my situation was never so dismal, I got an opportunity to assert myself during the pandemic.
Unrest and tension was rife. Money was short. My family members adopted a casual air towards me. While I was convalescing from my illness they served me the same food which they consumed. But I would have none of it. So I stepped up my demand for a protein rich diet (chicken, fish, eggs) and fruits.
They had to yield; as a mark of protest they wouldn’t partake of these items. However I couldn’t care less. If I didn’t get back on my feet soon who would run the household? Everything would go haywire.
To make matters worse, around this I had a relapse of Vitiligo (white patches on the skin) after a gap of two years. When I demanded a fresh supply of the (already prescribed) medicines, my husband tried to brow beat me, saying “You decide: rice for all of us or your medicines?”
My rejoinder was “Give me less rice but buy my medicines. If Vitiligo flares up would you like to live with a wife with ugly white patches of skin?” He was dumbfounded but did comply.
When I discovered my hair was in a mess and a hair cut was necessary, I coerced, cajoled the inmates of my home to call in a hair dresser.
During the two consecutive “corona” summers we survived minus air conditioners since they needed repairs and mechanics were unavailable. Add to it the paucity of funds. But this season, I made a ruckus, yelled and hollered no end, finally managing to get the machines repaired and running smoothly.
Likewise, when my mobile phone broke down completely, they had to provide me a new one since this device is virtually the lifeline of an individual. Surely it must have burnt a hole in their pockets but I needed my pound of flesh.
No more will I let others steamroll over my needs.
Image source: a still from the film Dil Dhadakne Do
Am a trained and experienced features writer with 30 plus years of experience .My favourite subjects are women's issues, food travel, art,culture ,literature et all.Am a true feminist at heart. An iconoclast read more...
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Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Women today don’t want to be in a partnership that complicates their lives further. They need an equal partner with whom they can figure out life as a team, playing by each other’s strengths.
We all are familiar with that one annoying aunty who is more interested in our marital status than in the dessert counter at a wedding. But these aunties have somehow become obsolete now. Now they are replaced by men we have in our lives. Friends, family, and even work colleagues. It’s the men who are worried about why we are not saying yes to one among their clans. What is wrong with us? Aren’t we scared of dying alone? Like them?
A recent interaction with a guy friend of mine turned sour when he lectured me about how I would regret not getting married at the right time. He lectured that every event in our lives needs to be completed within a certain timeframe set by society else we are doomed. I wasn’t angry. I was just disappointed to realize that annoying aunties are rapidly doubling in our society. And they don’t just appear at weddings or family functions anymore. They are everywhere. They are the real pandemic.
Let’s examine this a little closer.
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