“Sheer words merely demean what actions alone can redeem..”
When I look at all the Women’s day hoopla around me, it is this thought that rhymes in my head. This is what I feel when I hear people make customary ‘Women’s Day’ speeches.
I live in a world which has given me more opportunities, more choices more independence. Yes there is reason to celebrate, reason to acknowledge that we’ve come a long way. However nothing steers within when well organized cosmetic campaigns play out as scripted. I may not be quite a cynic to dismiss outright all celebrations and symbolism around all such ‘Days’ but with each passing year I see myself slowly turning nonchalant to such one day gestures. Yet today is the day when I want to reflect on the dichotomies of a women’s existence on a personal note.
What better a reference point than my own mother? Compared to the choices, opportunities she had I am way ahead. Honestly her say was merely namesake whether it was with respect to her career or her marriage. There were others in the family to look for her. Yet for all the decisions that others made for her she bore them with dignity, adjusted, learnt to strike a balance even if she was the only compromising party. She made personal sacrifices with a smile on her face. Her needs, her aspirations always came secondary. She made the perfect team with my dad to give me a life she herself could not claim. She raised me, fought for me and above all she believed in me. My heart truly goes out to her.
As I sift through her life I become conscious of the duality in her life. I may have taken some special likeness to the word ‘dichotomy’ but then in some way it is the strongest undercurrent in a women’s life. Men can be selfish and get away with that, a woman is less singular in her choices, she’ll think of her family, society. It is here that the dichotomies-trichotomies(if there is a word like this) emerge. It is the nurturer instinct in her that comes into play. I remember having read somewhere,
‘Its not a bad thing, is it, to be strong in some ways and fragile and vulnerable in others’.
An invincible woman is not my idea of womanhood. She’ll lose her vitality if she becomes all ‘me’. There is a beauty in the duality of her existence. However it is a tender balance, it’s ruining if the duality overpowers her existence and makes her lose her own identity. My mother contributed in her own way to help me carve out my identity and my father supported me throughout. I’d find my way to live with the dichotomies J
As for the Women’s Day, I choose to find my own meaning, away from the clamor mills!
