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It’s funny how we bring up our daughters in India. We educate them and allow them to follow a career and passion, “Reach for the stars, darling” my dad used to say. Yet, the most important task of her parents remains to get their girl married.
I had a fantastic upbringing- the best education at the school and college levels. Freedom to make my career choice. There was never any pressure to work and earn a living. Carefree, I worked hard at becoming an animator. I put in long and grueling hours – sharpening my skills. The harder I worked, the better I became at my craft, and fell in love with it.
I began work in the Gaming and eLearning industry. Only at that time, my mother decided that I must get married. As a single mother after my Dad’s demise, she was keen to put an end to her “responsibility”.
The proposal was good. I was almost coerced to consent to the match. As the wedding involved moving base I was asked to give up my job and start preparing for the big DAY. “Now forget all this”, said my future Mother in Law. “Take it easy, relax.”
That is exactly what I was not able to do. I had agreed to relocate, not give up my passion.
A month after my wedding I took up a full-time job and was ecstatic. Climbing up the professional ladder I soon learned to juggle work and married life with ease. Until infertility treatments and the pressure to have a child made me take a career break.
Shifting the focus to a new path I signed up for a course in Fashion Design. Hard work is my mantra and it’s given me success at each stage. 2 years of relentless work helped me to create a name for myself as a fashion designer. Loyal clients and a great team at work kept my boutique going even after I delivered my son.
Then followed a second conception, completely unplanned. The decision to not abort was tough. Taking care of a new-born and a toddler simultaneously proved to be a Herculean task. Without much support from my family, I was unable to get back to work no matter how hard I tried. “Let’s close the boutique”, suggested my husband gently. “We can always restart in a few years”, he added as tears rolled down my cheeks. Being financially independent and having an identity of my own has been crucial to me. Never did I think that I would have to give up all of it.
We were confined indoors. Online school for both children. As I sat watching the eLearning videos with my kids something stirred inside me. I began to sob uncontrollably. The children were frightened and shocked out of their wits.
“This was my field,” I wailed. “I gave it all up for you!”
My tone was accusative. I couldn’t believe it. I had dreamt of becoming a mother. I adored my children, yet I was blaming them for my situation. It didn’t get any better. As I spent time teaching the children and being their sole caregiver during the lockdown, I sank into depression. One day I turned the entire house upside down looking for my old portfolio. Applying on job websites to any random opportunities, I was in for a shock. Submerged in the effort of raising children, I’d lost touch with all my software skills.
Self-help was the best way forward. I joined a 1-month course at an institute nearby to refresh my skills.
I soon started freelancing – combining my illustration skills and fashion expertise. Working from home I designed prints, logos, and artwork for t-shirts and loungewear. A shift from my earlier boutique and customization work.
The effort was exhausting but rewarding. During the day the children would take up most of my time. Mornings would be taken up by cooking and attending online school. Evenings would be spent completing and uploading homework. Nights were the only time I’d be able to sit and work. Deadlines were short, but I was competent.
As normalcy returned and physical schools began I was able to work during the day. So much time before the kids came back from school? I couldn’t sit still. I needed to get back to a full time career. It was not enough for me to be just a freelancer. I wanted to be more than just a housewife doing assignments in her spare time. That could be possible only with the help and support of my husband. He understood my restlessness.
He knew it was my dream to return to work and he helped me realize it.
We charted out a step-by-step plan on how I could get back to a full-time career in fashion, that’s what I wanted. Mid-July, I started work with my husband at his garment export business. There was little work for me and traveling 50 km to and fro was tough. I could almost feel the office staff laughing at me. Yet. I had made up my mind to be nothing but positive. Taking baby steps, I learned something new each day. With my Hubby and kids being so supportive I gained confidence. Working on a range of T-shirts that I had designed we started a small fashion label. A few preview exhibitions have shown great response.
My fashion label has launched 2 successful summer and festive collections. Both have been sell outs. Our team of designers, production assistants and the online marketing team all work hard to ensure that we make quality our mantra. The road ahead is tough as we have a lot of competition. The market is flooded with fashion labels with almost 10 new ones emerging each month. However, I seek to keep learning with every order shipped, every design that is successful and also the ones that don’t do so well.
A dream that I dreamt is the one that I live out today. Sheer determination and lots of hard work with that unrelenting spirit to not give up. That is what is needed if you want to make your dreams a reality.
Image source: Pixabay
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Women have always been put into specific roles, judged in a certain way and are assumed to do things that are best suited for everyone.
Being a woman myself, I sometimes feel how do we get that superpower of juggling things and doing all without even complaining.
And they say, women can’t get it all!
Women across the world are achieving every possible thing they want to, it’s just that they need support, and motivation to handle it. In a country where family values and culture are given priority, education and career of a woman is sidelined, post her wedding.
Every household wants a well-educated daughter-in-law but they don’t want her to work because then who will take care of the house, kids, and daily chores. With time, society has evolved into a more modern one but still it has immense expectations on women. There is a continuous struggle in a woman’s mind to get her career back on track, take care of the child, and look after the house and the family it often leads to guilt and self-doubt.
Women always suffer from the dilemma of prioritising their careers or being stay-at-home moms (SAHM), which affects their both mental and physical well-being.
Motherhood, on the one hand, gives a lot of joy but on another gives a lot of pressure. Why do mothers have to choose between their child and a career is the most common question asked today, but there isn’t any perfect answer to it. It is said that a woman herself makes the choice of being a mother, staying at home, and taking a break from her career. Everyone in the society appreciates this about her but when the same woman decides to get back on her career path post the child birth no one supports her. This may not be a situation in every house but it surely is in most of the houses across India.
The Supreme Court of India recently came up with a handbook of rules that would help women gain a better position at work, creating more gender equality roles, and empowering women no matter what. All this is said and printed in books but the reality isn’t this.
In a corporate scenario, there are several companies who are unwilling to hire women with career breaks as they think that these women won’t be able to fulfill their roles properly. They believe that women after a break of 2 years won’t be able to focus on their work as they would be more inclined toward their child. There are so many women who are willing to work but they haven’t found suitable roles for them or are getting rejected for unnecessary reasons.
Although this is one group, there is also another group of companies that have started some wonderful programs for women to restart their careers.
In her book ‘Forget Having It All’, Amy Westervelt sums up the working mom dilemma as: “We expect women to work like they don’t have children, and raise children as if they don’t work.” This one sentence speaks tonnes about the pressure a woman handles on a daily basis.
The label of a bad mom hits you hard, not being with your children, missing their milestones, not being present in school meetings and the list doesn’t end. Similarly, the SAHMs are feeling depressed as their career is on a halt. These moms are often in mixed feelings about how to restart their careers, how to manage their homes, and how to take care of their child while working.
Here is a small conversation that happened between me and my fellow friend who also is a mom, and who was working earlier in an IT Job. We meet every evening with our kids so that the kids can play for some time and so that they have good development. Meanwhile, we also get to discuss our lives apart from the four walls we stay in. I casually asked her what does she when she is not looking after her child (which technically is not possible) but still, she said, she has been sending job applications to various companies for the last 4-5 months. Out of those only 2 companies approached her and one called for an interview. Later, she shared her experience of the interview day. With it having been 2 years since her last job, she just forgot how to explain what she used to do.
When I heard this it just struck that how as a mother we are so engrossed in looking after our children that we actually forget what our lives used to be like before the child was born. It becomes so difficult for a woman to re-focus, restart, and re-work her skills, her memory, her job, and overall herself.
The same is with me, a mother of a 3-year-old, having 12+ years of experience in writing and digital marketing but may be unfit for a corporate set-up.
Another incident I would like to share. In one of the previous companies where I worked, a new mom rejoined after a break of 6 months postpartum and she had so much self-doubt, mom guilt, and the pressure of work that she had to quit in a month. The scenario was when she rejoined she wasn’t given much work to do saying that she had come after a break she wasn’t capable of handling huge tasks. She wasn’t part of meetings because she could get calls and anytime she could leave. In a way, she wasn’t allowed to do anything concrete and she started feeling ignored and decided to quit.
The whole point is when companies decide to give women opportunities, then give them the full freedom to accept the opportunity and work on it. When they say they are open to career breaks, then they should create such an environment where a woman should be able to work without being ignored.
Respect her career break and her decisions.
Create roles wherein they can fit in.
Handover tasks and responsibilities that challenge them.
Let them make mistakes, let them learn.
Because if companies (that involve the men in the community as well) aren’t open and encouraging enough then we will never have equal opportunities.
Image Source: Canva Pro
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.
And I know you feel for the woman who might marry into this family a few years later, and in teaching your son to be a responsible human being, your heart is in the right place.
However, this caption is disturbing to me as the mother of a girl who is teaching her to reach out for the skies and who is careful not to let her feel that the kitchen is an indispensable part of her responsibility.
I would like to point out that I am not making her domestically challenged, but I am letting her see and understand that hygiene, cleanliness, cooking, and organisation are life skills that are going to help her become a disciplined and self-reliant adult and not the “marital skills” (that make a boy or a girl most eligible in the marriage market).
I am apologising to her whenever I am being rude to her so that it is ingrained in her self-concept that disrespect and abuse are not to be tolerated and so that she understands when someone manipulates and gaslights her. Furthermore, I am careful about letting her know that bullying someone is wrong, but I have also taught her to punch when someone tries to bully her.
I am not raising a so-called “Spoilt Papa ki Pari” who is ungrateful and entitled, but a WARRIOR who earns a title. Along with many others, have already been deemed the “witches” of our generation for going against societal norms, but we witches are raising the GODDESSES—those who are invited with respect and devotion, revered with surrender, and served with gratitude and love before they slay (that is, before she succeeds in all her ventures).
Furthermore, I am not raising an insipid girl, but one who has a loud voice and strong opinions. I am instilling in her the values of a fully functional adult, and if at all she feels the need to accept a man (perhaps your son) as a partner, she must not feel the need to be thankful towards you for raising your son as a self-reliant, fully functional adult.
You should be proud of your parenting because you are raising men as they should be and not as undiagnosed cripples who cannot move around their own house to make a cup of tea for themselves or to warm up their own dinner even when they have fully functioning limbs.
Furthermore, you should be proud of yourself that you saved your sons from the emotional trauma of having to be insensitive and hardened, as they will have a better understanding of their emotions and will not be reluctant to ask for help when they need it.
Not only that, but you should be happy that you will raise an adult with better mental health than other men in your life have had.
However, my daughter does not need to feel grateful to you for that because I am also teaching her how to safeguard her mental health and never let toxic people and relationships damage her inner sanctum. I am teaching her self-care as an essential part of her life. I am teaching her how to apply masks to her face only to extract and dispose of toxins (and toxic people) from her life.
Furthermore, I am teaching her how to call out and walk away from abuse. Likewise, I am not teaching her to ignore but to retaliate.
I am not teaching her to be shy or ashamed, for we women have long been that way, and it hasn’t helped us much. I am teaching her to be unabashed, to be fiery, and to be a WINNER.
Yes, I am teaching her to be competitive, but not for some state-funded or society-sanctioned exam. I am training her to be competitive along the lines of Darwin’s survival of the fittest to ensure that she endures, survives, and evolves.
When you ask my (or any) daughter to be thankful to you for raising your son as a human being who can evolve further on his own instead of regressing into a man-child, you are not only delimiting the expanse of my daughter’s (or your daughter-in-law’s) dreams to your home and your son, but you are also discrediting your own parenting as you are being nothing but an evolved sugar-coated version of your mother-in-law, “Who has raised the world’s best son and has been the world’s best mommy.”
My best wishes are always with you for raising a great adult, but my daughter must not be asked to feel grateful about it because I am teaching her not to!
Image source: CanvaPro
In a couple of years or so I shall be stepping into my 60s.
In the twilight of my life, I feel changes sweeping all over my persona, my very being.
That I am growing more and more sentimental with every passing day is fairly palpable.
A fairly recent development is a longing to have a grandchild. Yes, I am terribly fond of children. I adore their simplicity, honesty, and innocence-often interspersed with bouts of unalloyed affection. This intense love may be traced to my DNA. Both my parents were extremely fond of the little ones throughout their lives.
As a matter of fact, my dad was virtually the “Chacha Nehru” (the venerable first Prime Minister of India) for all children in our family, friends, or neighborhood circles. He would run around, play with them, indulge in innocent pranks and tricks, and “freak out” as much as possible.
My mother’s attitude towards kids in general was muted, a tad subdued. She never expressed her emotions in words, but at the sight, touch, or sound of a child, her face would light up with a strange glow, at once motherly and divine. As for me, nothing affords me greater pleasure than having lots of children around me. I enjoy peeping into the joyful, wondrous microcosm of their minds to escape the crass realities of the big bad world.
Why am I writing all this? For the simple reason that a good number of women in my peer group – colleagues, friends, and cousins included – have become grannies. Am I jealous? Nah! I only wish to enjoy this ‘elevated’ status.
However, the problem is that my sole offspring who has just stepped into her 30s is not planning to marry any time soon, like the bulk of “obedient” desi girls. She is totally focused on her career and harbours several dreams, but shaadi is not one of them.
No amount of coaxing, cajoling, persuasion, or emotional blackmail by me or her Papa is going to make her walk to the mandap. Her dry humour surfaces when she asks us to hang on until she begins to earn more and gets stabilized after which she can think of adopting a kid or two. I am not sure if that will happen while I am alive.
So, as of now, I regale myself by keenly following the innumerable videos, clips, and shorts on infants and toddlers that flood social media (chiefly Facebook & Instagram). The brilliant camera work, vivid capturing of ‘baby’ sounds and activities – cooing, gurgling, crying, crawling and more–truly make my day!
My 7th grade son was reading a poem called The Bangle Sellers by Sarojini Naidu. The poem harps on the notion that a woman dreams of her marriage, how each phase of her journey is towards marriage, as represented by the various colours of bangles. “This poem also describes how the bangles are attached with their emotions and these bangles also represent the transition of a girl from young to old.”
The poem starts by saying that a “maiden dreams of getting married.”
The blue and silver bangles represent her “freshness like the mountain dew.”
The red bangles are the woman who is “like a flower bud.”
The “buds that dream” represents the dreaming for marriage and the green bangles represent the “freshness of young women.”
On studying this poem at school, my son asked – is the dream of a woman only to get married? What about her hobbies and aspirations? He asked me if my goal growing up was only to get married. He is stunned by the notions this poem speaks of, as he sees his mother working as a designer, content writer and a chef in addition to her family roles.
The next stanza describes the yellow bangles of the woman as she is getting married. “She needs to look brighter of all on her wedding day.” My son now asks me if I ashamed to be of dark skin colour? I have never been the one to try to appear ‘fairer’, or apply too much makeup. I tell him proudly how my mother never wanted me to be a white doll on my wedding day.
The next stanza describes the purple and grey bangles which shows how she stood by her husband through good and bad times, and how she raised her children. “The bangle seller also says that these bangles are perfect for those women who maintain their family with pride and worship the gods.”
My son now again questions is marriage the only goal of a woman. I explain to him that marriage is a bond between two people and how they cherish each other’s wishes and desires, but it is not the only dream of women.
As I explain to my son, I wonder why the ICSE board includes this poem in a curriculum for today’s generation.
Every woman does not wish to be married. Marriage and taking care of their husband is not the only goal in their life. They have their own careers. They are educated and skilled. They can multitask efficiently.
Also, a woman enjoys wearing bangles but that is for her pleasure and not because she wishes to be a perfect wife to her husband. What about the errors and trials she faces? What bangle will she wear then? What about wearing a bangle when she celebrates her achievements?
I wish for my readers to think and tell me if I am wrong in my thought process. A woman is sufficient and excellent by herself. The bangle colors adorn her and enhance her capabilities.
Sneha still remembers the time when she had her first period.
She was returning home from school in a cycle-rickshaw in which four girls used to commute to school. When she found something sticky on the place where she was sitting, she wanted to hide it, but she would be the first girl to get down and others were bound to notice it. She was a nervous wreck.
As expected, everyone had a hearty laugh seeing her condition. She wondered what the rickshaw-wallah thought of her. Running towards her home, she told her mother about it. And then, she saw. There was blood all over. Was she suffering from some sickness? Cancer? Her maternal uncle had died of blood cancer!
Her mother just gave her some pieces of clothes to be stitched on her underwear whenever she felt like that. Was that all that she had to do? Was her mother not able to understand her condition? She had cancer!
She lived in a small house and everyone would wonder if she cried. No, she had no chance of shedding tears. Her heart was breaking. As a last resort, she wrote an imaginary letter to some unknown Doctor explaining her condition which she imagined was cancer and put it in a place where her mother would see it. And lo! Her mother did!
Watching her mother read it, Sneha felt hopeful. Now her mother would understand, and help her about the cancer. Talk about it. Explain to her what was happening. Some solution would surely come now that her mom read what she was going through?
However, nothing happened. Her mother did not say anything about it. She was becoming a nervous-wreck now. For an entire year, Sneha was sure that she was dying. Nothing interested her.
One day, while she was going through the magazines which her mother read, she noticed an article about it. Then, another! Then, the third one!
So, was it a normal phenomenon? Then, why didn’t her mother talk about it?
Now, she also wonders why there was no education about it in school? How will others girls deal with it? Or will everyone go through the worries she went through? Why?!
Image source: by Peopleimages.com – YuriArcurs Free for Canva Pro
I knew Karva Chauth was around the corner when my social media feed started filling up with photographs of mehendied hands, and I braced myself for the sappy posts and the acrimonious debates that I knew would follow. I was not disappointed.
Every year, I find a vast majority of my female friends to be firmly on one or the other side of the Karva Chauth debate. There are friends who undertake the fast, dress up for the evening puja and post photographs on social media. And there are friends who write long, fiery posts denouncing the custom as patriarchal and anachronistic. Both these groups of women often end up clashing on social media, and there seems to be little common ground between them.
And every year, I end up reflecting on what my stand is. This year was no different.
Of course it is. It is a fast undertaken by women for the well being and long life of their husbands. Tradition does not require the man to undertake a similar fast for the well being of their wives, so it is certainly one sided.
A few younger couples, inspired no doubt by Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, both keep the Karva Chauth fast, but that doesn’t change the fact that the genesis and intent of the festival is patriarchal. There are women who say that Karva Chauth is really a celebration of sisterhood, that it is a day when women get to dress up and pamper themselves, but when the purpose of the festival is to celebrate gender imbalance, that cannot be used to absolve the festival from being labelled “patriarchal”.
This is a harder question to answer. Karva Chauth, as is much else, is a matter of personal faith. A woman who has grown up seeing the women of her family celebrating Karva Chauth is conditioned into believing that this is something that women do for the welfare of their husbands. For them, keeping the fast is akin to paying an insurance premium, and they are willing to do that for the sake of their husbands.
Personally, I do not think we have the right to force them to change their belief, especially since their actions are not causing direct harm to anyone else.
Certainly not. Many women who consistently and vociferously speak up for women’s rights, have been called “false feminists” and have been shamed for observing the Karva Chaut fast. This in my opinion, this goes against the spirit of feminism. Like it or not, we have grown up in a patriarchal world, and have been conditioned to think and act in ways which go against true gender equity.
Most of our religious rituals (by our, I mean Hindu, but it is applicable to most religions) are intrinsically patriarchal. Across cultures and religions, women are “given away” in marriage. Hindu women are dissuaded from performing funeral rites. Women house owners have spoken of how difficult it is to find a priest even to perform a housewarming puja in the absence of a male partner.
As feminists, each of us, in our own way and at our own pace, challenge these age old beliefs and seek to change ourselves and those around us. There is no such thing as a “perfect feminist”; each of us is an “evolving feminist”. Shaming women who observe Karva Chauth does not serve any purpose because all it does is make people defensive and defensive people tend to dig further into their own beliefs.
There is however, one aspect of Karva Chaut which most people who observe it do not consider- Karva Chauth is not inclusive. Only married women are allowed to observe Karva Chaut. A woman who might have been keeping the fast and performing the puja for decades is prevented from observing the festival when she loses her husband.
If indeed, as some say, it is a celebration of sisterhood, does a woman cease being a ‘sister’ when she loses her husband?
In order to prove that the festival is not patriarchal, some women claim that the fast is for the entire family, not just for the women- if that is the case, does the family cease to exist when the husband passes away?
Karva Chauth is not, of course, the only festival which is not inclusive. In fact, most Hindu festivals discriminate against women who have lost their husbands. But this is one aspect of the festival which the women who observe it should think about- do they want to be a part of something that is blatantly discriminates. Yes, as feminists, we believe in the right of women to choose. But inclusion is as important as individual choice, and the festival fails on that count.
At one time, in Bengal, only married women were permitted to participate in Sindoor Khela, where Goddess Durga is fed sweets and pampered on the last day of Durga Puja before being symbolically sent back to her father’s home. The ritual has now evolved to include not just unmarried women and divorcees, but also widows and transgender women. Today, Sindoor Khela is genuinely a celebration of Sisterhood, even though it too is rooted in the patriarchal tradition of sending the woman back to her marital home. If one festival could evolve, there is no reason why others should not, as long as those celebrating them are mindful.
You see, weddings are often solemnized after comparing and contrasting the Janampatris and Natal Charts. I personally believe this practice is so yesterday. Marriages should be proceeded with once both parties undergo an OTT-Choice-Compatibility test.
Don’t agree?
Let me explain.
The Resident-Husband’s general demeanour unless he is rubbed the wrong way is as gentle as a freshly set curd. So he prefers genteel romances. You got the drift. It is mostly K-Dramas.
I am the Gunturu red chilly hot Andhra Amma- So I prefer a murder or two with enough twists in the tale. Throw in a body I say, the bloodier the better!
Since dinner is the meal that we share after a hard day’s work, we prefer to plate up and plonk ourselves in front of the telly.
Now please don’t pontificate and say, ‘What about conversations? Why not the dining table? You need to connect as man and wife!’
We are connected all right on a network Family plan. After decades of marriage, even if it is a love variety, no matter how hard you try the conversations will veer towards bills and their payments. Life does that to you. Enough to induce acidity if such tough topics are discussed over already bland food. Politics is too contentious and the economy is spirit flattening. Hence OTT seems the best option.
It starts with a K-Drama, then to a Rom-Com and we finally settle on Murder. By then the Resident Husband would have given up on Food, me and the TV, strictly in that order.
It is not that I am always selfish and hog the remote every time. I understand I have drawbacks in my pristine character and I am willing to work on my faults. So this full moon night, when we trawled Netflix for the middle ground of watching, I chanced upon a Festive Holiday collection. A whole lot of Christmassy movies. It was like hitting the bumper lottery for the man!
I selected one. Don’t ask the name. Frankly, they are all the same. A rich/middle-class blond who is stuck in a love situation with a bloke who is either too arrogant or the one who wouldn’t commit. She needs rescuing and her family prods her to improve. As she undergoes situations that teach her the true festive spirit, the man of the moment arrives and she ditches the dumber dude.
Coming back to the movie in question, it was so treacly that the husband actually asked for a tragedy/action flick and said he was off Romances for a while.
Played well, didn’t I? The mantra is ‘when you can’t beat them, join them and nub them gently into submission’!
We loved watching cricket until the World Cup Final 2023 broke our hearts and we are off cricket for now. I consume Insta Reels for mood-spotting and trends-understanding. We watch Tennis and Comedy shows on YouTube unite us.
See, in this bleak world, it is the humour that makes us go on and face every tomorrow with a bright smile.
Hence we both also connect over KJO’s latest Dettol cleansed family-view offering which is akin to rich Frat parents meeting over Mocha to discuss their brats and their scraps.
Makes us feel better that we are A-Ok!
Because we ain’t just ‘Worker’s, but are ‘Liver’s too!
Phew!
“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.
I knew that my husband wanted to visit the place. I was also aware that he was undaunted by the steep climb, being a physically active person. He was contemplating turning back out of his concern for me.
I have my strengths, but physical activity is not one of them. In fact, I tend to avoid physical activity to the extent I can.
My journey with physical limitations began during my first year of MBA when I was abruptly struck by a severe bout of dermatomyositis that later transformed into muscular dystrophy, confining me to a hospital bed for an agonizing month, almost making me miss my third-semester exams. The recovery period stretched over six months, marked by heavy steroid treatments to regain my usual physical semblance.
The echoes of that testing time eighteen years ago persist to this day.
Walking even a kilometre induces huffing and puffing, and my muscles protest with pain. Climbing a mere two-story flight of stairs sets my heart racing. “The dermatomyositis can come back in a time in the future – whether near future or far future, we can’t say now.” The ominous words of my treatment doctor linger in my memory.
Fortunately, I haven’t experienced a relapse since the period. Yet, those words reverberate in my mind. I assiduously avoid strenuous physical activity, favouring a slow-paced walk, detesting the notion of jogging, and opting for elevators over stairs for any ascent beyond two levels.
Beyond the physical limitations, my mindset imposed further constraints. Though I don’t think twice about going beyond my comfort zone regarding intellectual and professional pursuits, the story is the opposite when it comes to stretching myself in the physical realm.
My husband, a witness to my physical struggles during our MBA days, is privy to my apprehensions and fears. He didn’t even consider the thought of me embarking on this steep, tortuous climb.
But something inside me was determined not to turn back. Of course, I didn’t want my husband to turn back without paying homage to the deity because of me. Another reason was that, as a life coach, I firmly believe that the power of mindset can overcome any limitations, and wanted to practice what I preached. But the most important reason was that I didn’t want my fears to limit me and play spoilsport in our vacation plans.
I remember not thinking so much. “We will not turn back. Let me start and see how far I can go,” I remarked to my husband.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied, not pausing to think. For some reason, I didn’t want to allow myself the opportunity to change my mind.
So I started. And what a walk, nee climb, it was. In searing heat, without shoes. The more I climbed the steps, the more steps there were to climb.
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.
I was taking forever to reach the deity while my husband was climbing up the hill without breaking a sweat – an addition to the list of things I admire about him. He was by my side, cheering me every step of the way.
Nevertheless, reaching the summit appeared an insurmountable feat for my non-athletic body. I almost gave up at one point in time.
And then, to force myself not to abandon course, I approached the climb the same way I approach my coaching business and writing career – taking it one step at a time. Instead of focusing on the far-reaching top, I concentrated on the next step ahead. It kept me going.
Guess what? A full two hours after I commenced my climb, I reached the summit and bowed down in front of the deity. Carved out of a single block of granite, Lord Gometeshwara loomed large on the horizon.
I felt an incredible sense of achievement while reciting my prayers, an accomplishment that I consider right up there with some of my significant career milestones. I had overcome the limitations of my body and mind to achieve something that I thought was way beyond me.
And to think I wouldn’t have been able to experience that exhilarating feeling if I had given up undertaking without even trying!
Don’t give up on your dreams without trying. Until you try, you don’t know what you can’t do.
Start small and focus on the next step. Instead of overwhelming yourself with the ultimate goal, break it down into manageable tasks. Take it one step at a time. This principle has helped me pivot from my corporate job and grow my coaching practice into a flourishing business. And attain many personal milestones, like climbing that hill.
Surround yourself with authentic cheerleaders who support and motivate you. Their presence can make a world of difference in your pursuit. Would I have been able to do it without my husband? Maybe, maybe not. But the journey would have been damn harder without him.
Dreams are worth pursuing, even if they seem impossible at first. Don’t give up on them easily.
Embrace your challenges with determination. Like me, you will reach incredible heights you never thought possible.
Bahubali Gomateshwara image source: Getty Images Free for Canva Pro. Other images Smita Das Jain
In the state (Bihar) I come from, having a strike at the time of university examination was more of a rule than an exception. As a result, the exam was certain to be postponed and three years of courses often took more time than usual to finish the undergraduate degree.
Though things have pretty much improved now.
I am sure those of you who are from Bihar and Jharkhand will empathize with me on this.
As expected strike delayed my undergraduate degree almost by one year.
Marriage is also early in these states.
So this delay gave enough time to my family to fix my marriage and set my life. As if getting their daughter married was the only goal of their life. As if marriage is the final destination of any girl’s life. Because exams could get delayed but marriage couldn’t.
And thus I got married before the completion of my degree.
A few months later my result was out.
Thank God I had passed with first division or else I would have felt embarrassed in front of my husband as I had blown my own trumpet about getting good results throughout my exams.
My life took a 180-degree turn after marriage, responsibilities and duties took the front seat and career and education shifted to the rear.
Days turned into months and months into years amidst fulfilling the duties and responsibilities of a wife and daughter-in-law.
And then I set foot into the most beautiful phase of my life, motherhood. It felt as if time had got wings.
My life hovered around my two little munchkins. Witnessing their developmental milestones and taking care of them seemed the only goal of my life. I witnessed the purest and most selfless form of love. I was so occupied in my life that the thought of my career and development never crossed my mind.
But for some time now I have been feeling very empty and lost.
Now that my kids were grown up and for most of the day they would be occupied with their studies and other activities, my engagement with kids had tapered off. They were developing self-dependent and confident. I was so happy but that also meant they don’t need me now as much as they did before. My life which used to be filled with chores and errands around my kids had now turned vacant and unoccupied.
This emptiness needed some action and activities to escape the pain of my self-doubt and insecurities, and to make my life fulfilling and happening again.
This is when I turned my focus towards me, myself and my life. What to do now, where should I start from? Am I too old to begin something new or am I young enough to start over? I often found myself caught in the train of thought.
However, I had joined a clinical dietician course for my MSc but had to leave it midway because of my moving to the USA.
So getting a job without any work experience or appropriate degree after such a long gap seemed unimaginable. Moreover, stepping out of my comfort zone and being deprived of the luxury of enjoying the space and time of home seemed even more daunting and terrifying to me.
But I needed badly to do something engaging and committing. When nothing seemed to be working out I immersed myself into reading. I started borrowing books from the library one after another and devoured them in my free time. I interacted with a couple of reading groups and set a reading goal for myself. I also participated in reading challenges to make the reading journey more exciting and inspiring.
I must confess I genuinely came across some life-changing books that not only reduced my stress but also broadened my perspective to see life and instilled empathy in me. I kept a record of my reading streak and competed with other amazing readers who later became my lifelong friends. Meanwhile, we also started putting reviews of the books we finished in the group online, this helped other readers to pick the book of their interest along with me.
And this is how I landed into writing.
Gradually my interest grew and my writing traversed through scribbling from reviews to food articles to creating blogs and content for my website. It kept me on my toes and I was as busy as a bee.
Though I was not being monetarily benefited I was feeling productive and efficacious. I was feeling happy and content. Connecting with more women like me made me feel empowered and confident. We used to meet up every fortnight in the library and read our write-ups aloud in front of other fellow readers. With their fair feedback, I became more eloquent and exact and It enhanced my listening skills as well.
Although I wasn’t making any money from what I was doing I felt capable and worthy.
I also joined a group of volunteers and helped teach other women who lacked basic knowledge of English and helped kids with their homework and other assignments. The joy of giving back to the community was absolute bliss and weighed more than any rupees and bucks. The fulfilling feeling of contributing to society was unparalleled and unmatched.
Whatever I was missing in my life had now gone away. I was happy and satisfied.
It’s when I came across some websites that empowered women by providing them a platform where women from across the globe felt free to voice their thoughts and opinions. I connected with them and started sharing my voice and perspective with them.
I got a new identity and recognition through my ideas and writing there. Today I can say I am at my happy place.
Image source: a still from short film Ghar ki Murgi
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