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Can you believe this bloke compelled me to wear only saris - full time at home- till the eighth month of my pregnancy?! The excessive heat coupled with humidity made my life miserable.
Recently when I browsed an interesting post by a fellow author on this very forum I had a sense of déjà vu. She describes the absolutely unnecessary hullabaloo over ladies donning nighties and /or dupatta –less suits.
I wish to narrate how I was in dire straits so far wearing a ‘nightie’ was concerned.
I lived in my ultra orthodox sasural under constant surveillance of two moral guardians (read Taliban) in the shape of the husband’s mom and dad. The mom was unschooled and dim-witted while the dad was a medical practitioner. But he out-Heroded the Herod in orthodoxy.
‘Nightie’ was an eyesore for him (possibly because during his initial years of struggle he couldn’t afford one for his missus. Who knows?) By the way I never saw the matriarch wear any in the current situation either, when she could jolly well afford them.
Looking back, I recall how the three other female inmates (that’s the only word to be used in this situation!) ie.; a sister-in-law plus two aunts-in-law also never wore nighties, for reasons best known to them. I never probed. Couldn’t care less. Come to think of it, they were thus doing me a great favour by allowing me enjoy this privilege.
Back to the point. The moment the patriarch saw me step out of our bed chamber, nightie-clad he would start hollering, his eyes flashing his nostrils flaring. I would dart back to the room only to emerge after a change.
There were days when he was not home and I would be relaxing in a nightie, if he chanced to return before I could change he would chase me around the house (yes, quite like straight out of a Tom & Jerry cartoon, isn’t it?) uttering expletives about my rotten culture, khandaan /clan etc.
Trust me, my nighties were simple, sober in tone. Not those see-through, sensuous, titillating ones. Yet…Forget about maternity gowns – can you believe this bloke compelled me to wear only saris – full time at home- till the eighth month of my pregnancy?! The excessive heat coupled with humidity (I delivered in late September) made my life miserable. Nobody, not even the sasuma dared defy his diktat since he was a ‘Doctor’ and doctors are ‘honourable’ men!
Now the anti-climax! Through the summer months, the venerable gentleman having returned home from the clinic/hospital, would chill out in the living room bare-chested, clad only in bloomers! Thank heavens it was not one of those tight-fitting groin hugging underwear or trunks Otherwise it would have been a grotesque sight.
I confess, the sight of his sweaty, hairy torso filled me with disgust. But could I complain or pass a remark? Certainly not. For he was a ‘Doctor’ and doctors are ‘honourable’ men!
Beats me, how people can be so ruthless, selfish, and insensitive merely for the sake of convention! HE could relax in comfort because HE was a MAN, but no – women could not claim any sort of comfort. Certainly not a mere daughter in law!
Image source: a still from the film The Lunchbox
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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