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As I pen down this piece, I find myself in the process of recuperating from the distress caused by the Indian team’s defeat in the finals of the recently concluded Cricket World Cup 2023. Despite our team delivering an outstanding performance throughout the tournament, the loss in the final has left a lasting impact.
As a devoted fan, I diligently followed every match played by India, a consistent ritual that has spanned approximately two and a half decades.
Growing up with a sports enthusiast father ensured that the love for cricket was ingrained in me from an early age. While my earliest recollection of sitting through an entire match dates back to the 1999 Cricket World Cup, my subconscious mind like Abhimanyu from Mahabharat has somehow retained names of all the Indian players who have played International cricket in the ’80s and early ’90s, even including few non-Indian cricketers such as Sir Ian Botham, Martin Crowe, Graham Gooch, Malcolm Marshall etc.
Later during the formative years I was privileged enough to attend a school with extensive facilities, including a sprawling playground and pool. So, I had the chance to try my hand at various sports without encountering any gender-based restriction, which meant I wasn’t accorded or denied opportunities based on gender. I pursued all my hobbies and habits according to personal choice; consuming cricket, following the stats of my favourite cricketers and then discussing them with friends and family certainly being one of them. Cricket has always been a valuable conversation topic during social gatherings for me.
This ongoing trend of cricket becoming increasingly embraced by both men and women is undeniably a positive development, exemplifying a more inclusive and egalitarian approach to the sport, dismantling traditional gender barriers.
The landscape of sports viewing in India, once predominantly a male-centric pastime, has undergone a noticeable transformation in the last two decades, signalling a shift in trends as we observe a consistent rise in female viewership who share an equal enthusiasm for watching sports on television or OTT platforms. Whether it’s a working woman or a housewife carving out time to enjoy her favourite game amid the demands of work and daily chores; playing a pivotal role in reshaping the narrative and ensuring that gender no longer dictates sports viewership.
The increase in limited over format of cricket has also greatly contributed to this trend. With the rise of IPLs and T20 cricket, it has further fuelled a growing interest in women’s consumption of cricket around the world.
In fact not just as the audience, growth and popularity of women’s cricket has also garnered popularity over the years and demonstrated ability to drive substantial audiences. However, relying solely on male viewership or expecting men to fill stadiums in large numbers to popularize women’s cricket is not realistic. A sport thrives on its fans, and the increasing interest from diverse segments of the population is a promising sign.
The credit goes to our heroes of the game who have placed India prominently on the world map creating a historic legacy. It’s a matter of great pride for India that the leading run scorers in International cricket in both Men’s and Women’s cricket are Indians. In a career spanning more than two decades, Mithali Raj has inspired generations of youngsters and budding sportspersons. Moreover, she is merely one example; there are numerous others.
Witnessing such women as idols breaking barriers is truly heartening. While there is still a considerable journey ahead in terms of fighting societal stigmas and peer pressure yet the growing interest in sports bodes well for the future of Indian cricket, sports and nation as a whole.
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Dealing with generational gaps can be exhausting, women have to balance home and work dynamics. Can being patient, and forging connections with humour flexibility, and gratitude help?
In the modern world, many women find themselves sandwiched between two distinct generations, each with its unique set of values, expectations, and approaches to life.
At home, it’s a delicate dance between teenagers challenging the status quo and elders seeking tradition and respect. Meanwhile, the workplace mirrors this intergenerational tango, with seasoned leaders craving stability and the younger workforce hungry for change and innovation.
Picture this.
A household where teenage rebellion clashes with the wisdom of the elderly. My in-laws, products of an orthodox upbringing, advocate for respect and discipline, while my daughters question every rule, seeking to break stereotypes and redefine boundaries.
The workplace, too, reflects this clash, with seasoned leaders yearning for a hierarchical model while the younger generation demands speed, risk, and a departure from tradition.
Navigating the delicate intergenerational balance is hard, but not impossible. Let’s explore the 7 solutions to the challenges women face at home and in the workplace.
It advocates for empathy, humour, and gratitude to bridge generational gaps successfully.
At times, patience wears thin, but taking a step back to listen empathically has been a game-changer. Understanding perspectives from both sides, wearing the hat of a 20-year-old and a 50+, helps bridge the gap both at home and in the workplace.
Read more: Daina Emmanuel On Her Career Journey Being About Patience & Passion
Act as a facilitator rather than a roadblock.
Create opportunities for the young and old to learn from each other’s strengths. Encourage connections at work between young innovators and seasoned leaders, fostering an appreciation for what each brings to the table.
Read more: 12 Ways Women Leaders Can Master Executive Presence
In a world that abhors constant reminders, setting clear expectations and giving individuals the space to meet them allows for autonomy. Trust the process, and you might be surprised by the creativity and efficiency that emerges.
Read more: How To Micromanage Small Teams Without Crushing Creativity?
Lecture-resistant teenagers at home and eye-rolling colleagues at work? Swap the monologue for a dialogue filled with humour. Injecting fun into daily interactions can break down barriers and foster a more enjoyable atmosphere.
Read more: Women Are Finding Their Unique Voices, And There’s No Stopping Us Now!
Help each generation understand the broader context. At home, share family stories and history. At work, provide insights into the company’s journey.
Connecting the dots from past to present helps everyone appreciate the bigger picture.
Read more: Focusing On The Bigger Picture
Rigidity is the enemy. Embrace an adaptive style that allows for flexibility. Balancing the demands of different generations requires a willingness to bend without breaking.
Read more: Enhance Your Skills Cross – Functionally To Get Ready For A Post – Pandemic World
In the midst of generational clashes, the simplest words—sorry and thank you—prove to be the most potent. Apologizing when misunderstandings occur and expressing gratitude for the unique contributions each generation brings fosters an environment of mutual respect.
At home, acknowledging the wisdom of the elders and the vitality of the youth with a genuine “thank you” goes a long way. In the workplace, a culture of gratitude can transform the dynamics, making every generation feel valued and heard.
So, don’t underestimate the power of these two small words; they have the ability to bridge gaps and build bridges across generations.
Read more: 6 Ways To Express Gratitude To Become A Better Leader
Navigating the generational sandwich is indeed an art, and as women, we often find ourselves at the forefront of this delicate dance.
By listening, connecting, avoiding micromanagement, infusing humour, bringing the big picture into focus, maintaining an adaptive style, and expressing gratitude, we can not only survive but thrive in the intergenerational whirlwind both at home and in the workplace.
So, here’s to embracing the chaos with a smile and savouring the unique blend of wisdom and innovation that each generation brings to our lives.
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Image source: CanvaPro
How can women in middle management build their presence? Here is a 12-step guide that will help you master executive presence in the workplace.
In the dynamic landscape of corporate leadership, executive presence is a critical asset that can significantly impact one’s success.
For women in leadership roles, cultivating and exuding executive presence is not just about conforming to traditional norms but about leveraging individual strengths to command respect, influence, and make a lasting impact.
Executive presence is a quality that goes beyond mere appearance or confidence. It is a combination of charisma, communication skills, gravitas, and the ability to project a compelling and authentic leadership image.
Women in leadership often face unique challenges, as societal expectations and workplace dynamics can create additional hurdles.
However, by embracing their authentic selves, women can harness their unique qualities to build a powerful executive presence.
Enhancing executive presence is not limited to those in top leadership roles. Individuals in middle management can also benefit significantly from developing and showcasing this quality.
Here are some practical tips to enhance executive presence for leaders in middle management:
The foundation of executive presence lies in authenticity. Authentic leaders are more relatable and engender trust among their teams.
Embrace your unique qualities, experiences, and perspectives. Your authenticity will resonate with others, making it easier for them to connect with you on a personal and professional level.
Read more: Can Women Really Take Their Authentic Selves To Work?
Confidence is a key component of executive presence. Stand tall, make eye contact, and speak with conviction.
Cultivate composure in high-pressure situations, demonstrating resilience and a cool-headed approach to challenges. A composed leader inspires confidence in others and fosters a sense of stability within the team.
Read more: What Can Be Done To Overcome The Confidence Barrier That Women Face At The Workplace?
Cultivate deep knowledge in your field or industry. Share your insights and expertise with your team and colleagues. Volunteer for projects that align with your strengths and showcase your skills.
Read more: 6 Corporate Survival Skills Every Woman Needs To Know!
Understand the broader goals and vision of the organization. Align your team’s objectives with the overall strategy.
Demonstrate that you can think beyond immediate tasks and contribute to long-term goals. Strategic thinking positions you as a forward-looking leader who can navigate complexities and drive the organization toward success.
Read more: Learning The Art Of Saying No And Being More Strategic At Work
Proactively identify opportunities for improvement or innovation. Volunteer for leadership roles in cross-functional projects. Showcase your ability to take charge and make informed decisions.
Read more: I Landed My First Corporate Job At 54
Take ownership of your decisions and actions. Learn from mistakes and use them as opportunities for improvement. Hold yourself accountable for the success of your team and projects.
Read more: Is Your Workplace Toxic? Do The Checklist!
Articulate your ideas concisely and with confidence. Practice active listening to understand the perspectives of others. Be mindful of your body language, eye contact, and posture.
Adapt your communication style to the audience. Effective communication is paramount for building executive presence.
Read more: 6 Ways You Can Improve Your Communication Skills
Establish connections within and outside your organization. Attend industry events, conferences, and seminars to expand your network. Actively participate in professional associations and online forums.
Read more: 5 Ways Women Can Master Professional Networking!
Be aware of your own emotions and those of your team. Manage conflicts diplomatically and foster positive relationships. Demonstrate empathy and understanding in challenging situations.
Read more: 5 Key Skills For Emotional Intelligence At The Workplace
Dress professionally and in a manner that aligns with your workplace culture. Pay attention to grooming and personal presentation. Your appearance should reflect your competence and professionalism.
Read more: 3 Must’ve ‘Gen Z Professional Clothes’ For Work Wardrobe!
Solicit feedback from peers, supervisors, and team members. Actively work on areas identified for improvement. Show a commitment to continuous growth and development.
Read more: Despite Criticism And Cynical Comments, I Chose To Follow My Heart & Tell My Story!
Leadership is a journey of continuous learning. Stay curious and seek out new knowledge. Stay informed about industry trends and best practices. Attend workshops, training programs, and conferences to enhance your skills.
Pursue additional certifications or advanced education relevant to your field. Demonstrating a commitment to learning not only enhances your skills but also sets an example for your team. This ongoing dedication to growth contributes to a powerful executive presence.
Read more: Want To Up-Skill? Do It At These BEST Women’s Leadership Programmes In India
No one is born with a great executive presence! To master executive presence you have to combine various skills, behaviours, and attitudes that can be cultivated over time. Executive presence is not a one-size-fits-all concept; it is about embracing your unique qualities and leveraging them to lead authentically.
For women in leadership, this means breaking free from stereotypes, confidently owning their space, and contributing to a diverse and inclusive leadership landscape. By focusing on authenticity, confidence, communication, strategic thinking, and continuous learning, women can cultivate a commanding executive presence that propels them to success in leadership roles.
Remember, your presence matters! By embracing it fully, you can inspire those around you and leave a lasting legacy in the corporate world.
CELEBRATIONS AND SUSHI
When you meet friends whom you’ve known for OVER 20 years and more, you kind of start from where you left off. There are no awkward moments, nor any irrelevant pleasantries to exchange. The conversation simply flows, just like the laughter! A Vacation trip with my besties from college last month was fantastic. I felt like I had once again become the college kid who would speak her mind and laugh out loud without fear of being judged or misinterpreted.
Traveling over the hills, driving past tea estates and misty landscapes we felt ecstatic! Reliving those moments of carefree freedom, countless dreams, and unimaginable naivety. Talking about old times, college crushes, and more. Catching up on friends’ whereabouts- who was doing what, A whirlwind of topics that need not even bear relevance to time or theme!
St. Xavier’s College Mumbai lives in some part of every Xavierite whether they choose to acknowledge it or not. There is a magic within those magnificent walls that cannot be described. Even today the lending library beckons- I wish I had spent more time in those rustic alleys and read more. The Woods, the first Quad, and the Arches appear before my eyes- if only I had lounged around more than I did. A little bit longer in the IMG please, whispers my favorite rendition by Ghulam Ali.
Looking down at the valley from Dolphin’s Nose, Coonoor, we felt that whatever each one of us had achieved was irrelevant. How mindlessly we had been caught up for the past 2 decades trying to reach a position in our careers, personal lives, and more. The endless rat race seemed so futile from up here. Everything looks like a speck when u look at it from a height. The importance we tiny particles of energy attach to ourselves is hilarious!
By the bonfire that night at the cozy homestay, we made a few new friends. With a certain family, the connection was different. Like an instant link. We began chatting and continued like we’d known each other for years. The family was from Delhi and was celebrating Dusshera holidays with their son. Like most Delhiwale these guys were foodies- so obsessed with taste and culinary ecstasy that they had named their pet cat also SUSHI!
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes in amusement.
With the addition of new friends, the college reunion trip became a lively celebration.
Those few but wonderful days left us with lingering regret! Why hadn’t we understood in our 20s what we realized now? That the only things that endear over time are the memories we make. Our lives are only a series of events- one leading to another. It is imperative to live each day to the fullest. We must squeeze it dry and move on… Celebrate your experiences irrespective of what they bring- happiness, joy, hard work, heartbreak, or suffering!
Life is like sushi- made of exotic, colorful ingredients rolled together and served before you. Pick it up and relish the different flavors- some you like, some you don’t. It is ok!
That’s all we need to live successfully– Celebrations and Sushi!
Every year Dugga comes home with her children and stays with her parents for ten days. These ten days are filled with fun and festivity. On the tenth day, everyone gathers to feed her sweets and bids her a teary-eyed adieu. ‘Dugga’ is no one but our Goddess Durga whose annual trip to Earth is scheduled in Autumn. She might be a Goddess to all. But to us, she is the next-door girl who returns home to stay with her parents.
When I was a child, I would cry on the day of Dashami (immersion) and ask Ma, “Why can’t she come again?” My mother would always smile back.
I mouthed the same dialogue as a 23-year-old, who was home for Durga Puja. This time, my mother graced me with a reply. “Durga is fortunate to come home at least once. But many have never been home after marriage.”
I was aghast! “Why can’t a married woman visit her parents?”
“Well, it has always been a rule that once married, the girl becomes ‘porogotro’ (belongs to another family by marriage). She has to develop ties with the new household. Frequent visits to her biological family will mar the new relationship that she has forged.”
***
In January 2005, I got married. As the days to Durga Puja drew nearer, everyone assumed that I would be spending Pujo with my parents-in-law. That was the norm. I reached out to my parents. They advised, “Now that you are married, you need to know your in-laws better. Spend this year with them. Next time, you can be with us.”
But the next Pujo, the expectations remained the same. To be a good daughter-in-law I have to spend Pujo with my husband and his parents. It was time for diplomacy. By virtue of marriage, I have been blessed with two sets of parents and I have to be dutiful to both. ‘Two days with the parents-in-law and two days with my parents.” I declared. The decision was not accepted well. My parents did not want any complications. In the end, to keep everyone happy, I booked a trip and went away with my husband.
It was then that I realised every daughter, no matter how old they are, yearns to come home during Puja. ‘Home’ to us is that abode where we were brought up with great care till marriage served us an eviction notice. How difficult it is for women to relinquish everything, join a new household, and accept their husbands’ parents as their own!
It was in 2013 that my path crossed with a young couple settled in a small town in Odisha. It was just before Pujo and I was packing for the trip to Kolkata when the woman came and sat next to me.
“Didi, are you going to sasural?”
I nodded. “Going home.”
“A woman’s home is her parents-in-law’s place.” She said.
I informed her that I have my own house in Kolkata which belongs to me and my husband while my parents-in-law and parents live elsewhere.
She sat there, stunned!
The young woman had been married for four years and had never visited her parents. The instructions were clear. The ties with her parents were over. The marital house was her new abode and the husband’s parents were her only set of parents. In the last four years, her parents had visited her twice. A bride’s parents are not supposed to visit frequently. Her mother sends sweets and other delicacies to a woman who commutes from her hometown. “My mother writes to me every day.”
The pain and sorrow on her face was evident. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she shared a secret. “I am trying hard to get pregnant.”
“Why the hurry?” I asked her.
“It’s customary to send a woman to her parent’s place in the advanced stages of pregnancy.”
It was my turn to be stunned to silence.
In such cases, out of desperation, they feel that getting pregnant is the only solution. Having a baby changes the entire equation. But who will tell them that it serves to complicate it further?
It has always been customary to pack off pregnant women to their parental homes in the advanced stages of pregnancy. Isn’t that what the women want? Finally, an opportunity to go home and live with her parents. But have you ever given a thought to why this is a custom?
The women remain at their parents-in-law’s place as long as they can work. As the pregnancy advances, she needs rest and greater care. A liability, she is sent off.
Child delivery in earlier times was a challenging process. Lack of proper medical care contributed to the high rates of mortality amongst expectant mothers. The ceremony of ‘shaadh’ or the wish fulfilment ceremony was held for them. The ceremony fulfilled all the desires of an expectant mother in case she didn’t survive the child-delivery ordeal. Expensive saris, jewellery and good food. All that a woman desires. Why would the husband’s side bear this?
The responsibility of delivery also rested with the parents. If something went wrong, the husband’s side would never be blamed. The charges of midwife/doctor and delivery costs were also borne by the parents. Why will the husband’s side bear it? Once the baby was born, the mother and the baby would remain at her parent’s place till the parents-in-law deemed it suitable to bring her back. In the case of a boy child, there was an urgency to bring back the duo. But a girl child would mean a bleak future for the new mother. Usually, it was closer to the date of the rice-eating ceremony that the mother and her baby were taken back to her marital home. Imagine such a long stay for a daughter which was otherwise impossible.
That was 2013 and it’s 2023 today! The situation hasn’t changed much. Many women are pining to go home. They need special permission from their husband to visit home. Even if they are permitted, they have a stipulated period which is non-negotiable. Just like Durga, many of these women come home alone. Their husbands do not join them.
The image of a good daughter-in-law is equally important. Also, to prevent unnecessary complications in relationships, staying with parents-in-law during Durga Puja becomes a farce. Alas! No weightage is given to the woman’s preferences.
Ironically, the arrival of Durga every year is a stark reminder of the regressive customs our society is saddled with. No matter how much we have moved on, such unfair norms and practices exist holding women in a tight grip, thus creating a society which is based on inequalities.
Image source: YouTube
Hima Das was born into a poor family near Kandhulimari village in Assam’s Nagaon district on January 9. Her parents, Ronjit and Jonali Das, belong to the indigenous Kaibarta community. Both of them engage in farming to support the family.
She attended Dhing Public High School, where she developed an interest in playing football, a sport she would play with the boys. Shamshul Sheikh, a teacher at Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya, provided the most valuable piece of information to the youngster after observing her incredible speed while playing football. What followed is history.
The 18-year-old Indian sprinter had always wanted to play football. Her school coach convinced her to try out athletics after noticing her sprinting across the muddy fields of Assam. Despite a lack of training facilities and equipment, she still bagged a bronze medal in the state meet.
She didn’t have an available running track and had to practice on a muddy football field. After considering the advice given, she, with barely any training under her belt, won the 100m bronze at the state meet and subsequently made it to the finals of the Junior National Championships.
The coaches decided to switch Hima to run the quarter-mile to give her a better shot at international success. At the Federation Cup in Patiala in March 2018, Hima Das comfortably won the 400m gold in 51.97 seconds, breaking the 52-second qualifying mark for the Commonwealth Games later that year. She then became part of the Indian athletics contingent for the 2018 Commonwealth Games.
Finding herself fast-tracked into the national games, she couldn’t win a medal, but Hima Das improved on her personal best timings in the heats and the finals of the 400m at the Commonwealth Games at Gold Coast. Despite finishing sixth in the 400m at the Commonwealth Games, Hima Das’ achievements were set to see a fascinating turnaround.
Hima Das became the first Indian athlete to win a gold medal in any format of a global track event at the IAAF World U20 Championships when she clocked a speed of 51.46 seconds. She won 5 gold medals in about a month in the Czech Republic in July 2019.
Hima Das mainly takes part in women’s 400-meter, 200-meter, and 4×400-meter relays. At the Asian Games in 2018, she won a silver medal in the 4×400-meter mixed relay. She also set an Indian U20 record of 51.32 seconds to finish sixth in the Commonwealth Games 400m final in Gold Coast in April 2018.
In September 2018, Adidas signed an endorsement deal with Hima Das. She was then conferred with the Arjuna Award by the President of India on September 25, 2018.
The 2018 Asian Games was a similar story. Das qualified for the 400m final, clocking 51.00 in heat 1 and setting a new Indian national record. On August 26, 2018, she bettered the national record to 50.79 seconds in the 400m final, winning the silver medal.
Four days later, Das, in association with M. R. Poovamma, Sarita Gayakwad, and V. K. Vismaya, scripted history. The quartet won the women’s 4 × 400 meters relay by clocking an incredible time of 3:28.72. This was a fitting compensation for Hima, who had failed to qualify for the final of the 200-meter race earlier on the same day.
It was a false start in the semifinal that had let her down back then. Hima also won a silver medal in the 4×400m mixed relay to complete a record-breaking haul at the continental extravaganza.
Das gave a voice and provided a platform for young girls who aspire to be included in sports. With women reaching new heights day by day, we get to see the gender diversity in the nation, which has been so stereotypical when it comes to girls playing sports. It’s no longer just a ‘boy’ thing to do, and is acknowledged as a profession for all!
‘Baby on Board’, my friend gave instructions to her husband for designing the board while rubbing her swollen belly. I watched her in amusement as excitement and anxiety played hide-n-seek on her face. Raised brows, widened eyes followed by smiling lips and dimpled cheeks. Amongst the instructions and expressions, the rubbing on the belly was constant. After she was done with the phone call, I interjected her to-do-before-the-baby-arrives list, with my question.
‘Something bothers you, Anita?’
The rubbing stopped. She looked into my eyes and took a deep breath. Pregnancy gives you that kind of labored breathing but Anita’s was more of a mental exhaustion that escaped as a sigh through her nose.
‘Hmmm… I won’t lie or beat around the bush but yes, I’m tensed. Tensed over how I would manage once the baby arrived. How things will change for us as a couple after the delivery? How things will change for me? Will my life, running on my whims and fancies, be ever the same? Will I be the same? Or even sane?’
I held her hand in a firm grip. Feeling the tension in her curled-up fingers, I said, ‘No.’
She turned away from me, probably turning to face herself in her thoughts that were rattling on her mind. Gingerly, she looked up after what seemed to be a massive minute-long observation, Anita asked, ‘Was it the right decision to get pregnant? Am I erring by bringing this life into my chaotic world?’
‘Well, now is not the time to pour over such matters. The decision is made. Action taken. You got to only wait for the results.’
I had to be pragmatic. Couldn’t just wheedle her into believing that parenthood was a cakewalk. Yet, in a moment I was sorry for her state and bit my tongue for having been so non-empathetic about her state. Wasn’t I, too, at that juncture some eight years ago? Was that a long time back that today I answered Anita so cruelly?
Yes, I feel ancient while my girlfriends in their late thirties debate over whether to bear a child or not. Ten years ago, when I married, having a baby post-marriage was the most natural thing to do. As natural as washing your hands post visiting a washroom or as organic as having pav with bhaji. Forgive me for the lame examples but it was utterly foolish to think about whether to have a child or not a decade ago.
Times changes. I can see a gamut of options people have to live their lives. One of them could be being the DINK couple (double income no kids). Initially, due to my social conditioning, I found it weird and absurd how a couple could be happy without the tag of parents on them. Going childfree by choice and not by “nature’s wrath” was a difficult concept to digest. I empathized with individuals who suffered from infertility. For whom the boon of parenthood was a mirage, fell into my oh-so-sorry category.
Then walked in a few friends and close family members, who told me that they had happily and voluntarily chosen to go childfree.
‘It is a huge responsibility and we don’t want to go through the trials and tribulations of being a parent.’ A friend spoke upfront of her choices at a school reunion. Not only she but a few other friends who were parents to not one but even two kids resonated with her.
‘It is good you are clear with your priorities and nothing wrong in doing so.’ Another one joined her in unison.
‘I feel you are going a bit overboard with calling parenthood full of trials and tribulations.’ My meek voice conjured up some strength. ‘It is not all that messy and muddled.’ I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear that had fallen from my messy bun.
‘Look at yourself.’ The advocate of not bearing children turned towards me. ‘Hadn’t it been for your son you would have had a successful writing career? What are you holding back for? Isn’t the money divided? If it were not for his school fees, his tuition, his extracurricular, even his McDonald’s treat and fancy clothes, you wouldn’t have opted for this simple gharelu look of yours?’
The discussion was turning aggressive and I could feel the heat of disagreement on me.
Seeing my ashen face, the friend mellowed down, ‘I’m sorry I don’t mean to critique your choices but what I want you to know is that we aren’t ready for the sacrifices. You can say we are selfish but at least we aren’t faking ourselves into believing we would be great parents.’
I sipped my cola in silence. There was a plateful of food for thought to chew on. To lighten the atmosphere, a friend cracked the silence.
‘To have children is like having an untrained employee in your organization of marriage. If you are ready and stable and settled, mentally, emotionally, and financially and have the plan in place to hold the mess… then go ahead… sirf emotional madness of becoming a parent ke chakkar ke nahi padne ka.’
We had a good laugh. He made a strong point. The tension had fizzled out. So the soda from my cola. The sweet cola minus the zing of soda was not bad. So was the ideology of staying away from parenthood. One always has the option of being pet parents, godparents, or adoptive parents over being biological parents. If not this, then as my younger sister says, ‘Why have my own when I have yours? Ek Ma se bhali do!’ I cannot agree more.
With children comes financial, moral, and emotional madness but with them around comes a sense of fulfilment. I have a shoulder to cry on, a lap to rest my weary head on, a trophy to show the world- See this is my creation! Yet, there have been hair-pulling moments to the extent of me going bald. A feeling of bankruptcy after paying exorbitant school fees. Halloween nights when the baby bawled her lungs out.
Sheer will.
Where there is a will, there are ways. But only if there is a will.
To all my friends, who are just married or about to be married, tread slow, as having or not having a child is a sensitive matter. Before I began writing this blog, my friend Monica gave me the above advice. You may be trolled, mocked, called insensitive and selfish for keeping parenthood at bay. Sadly, you are not part of a major populous that opts for parenthood because that is what one does after getting married. But remember you are a golden minority with sensible attitudes. There is no U-turn on the highway of parenthood. And definitely, no my-way-or-highway attitude!
In my weakest moment, let me acknowledge your support because when I have had enough poop and vomit-cleaning sessions, I have left my son in the care of my sister. Secretly, I thank God for her choices as I have a reliever after a long duty of parenting.
Image source: by fizkes from Getty Images Free for Canva Pro
As the present century approaches the completion of its first quarter, there is an increased tendency to misuse the phrase “shattered the glass ceiling,” which is loosely used with each feat accomplished by one so-called “overachieving” female.
The term “overachiever,” through its connotation, limits the achievement of an average woman.
Just like other patriarchal constructs forced upon the schemas of several generations, the concept of achievement attained by a woman is not easily digested. This is because the glass ceiling isn’t just a lid placed upon an airtight compartment to imprison women; it also refers to the incapability of men and women alike to think beyond the limits set by that ceiling.
That is why it is a matter of great awe when a woman achieves something.
This glass ceiling is not a reachable space, but a framed structure tightened to be held in place with its hinges strongly intact on all sides. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels have described in detail the real reason for the construction of this ceiling. It was neither myth nor religion nor culture, but to ensure the passage of property to a man’s true heir.
This construction was to put control over women’s bodies and sexuality. But in the name of creating order in society, women were enchained to live within the limited space granted to them.
For the same reason, pay disparity has been maintained across genders to deny any kind of control to women. This tight compartment had developed an ecosystem of its own where most women had learned to surrender and survive to let their life processes continue. They were not able to look beyond the atmosphere developed within this ecosystem, even when the ceiling made of glass promised more light from beyond, from above, and from around the corners.
Whenever a woman achieves something, thereby giving the said glass ceiling a severe blow, the hinges of this framed structure weaken a little to let some fresh air in, and this gust of fresh air is celebrated with such glorified enthusiasm that it is assumed that the glass ceiling has been shattered. But it remained very much intact, and the fresh gust of air soon became stale due to overconsumption of the tale in the tight compartment.
Soon every woman felt inspired to rise and “break the ceiling” by following similar footsteps, and in the process, she competed against every other woman who was feeling inspired the same way because the internal ecosystem of this compartment was conditioned to support the pyramidal structure.
Instead of celebrating every achievement right from birth and surviving to heal, pulling each other up and rising, from climbing mountains and taking combative training to become a solo backpacking traveller and adventurer, from becoming an entrepreneur from within the thresholds of the house to crossing the threshold and the bars and pars of excellence set, women were forced to look in a single direction.
This too had been a shrewd patriarchal plan where women were encouraged to shatter the glass ceiling at that very point, which was already weak due to the blow so that even if they got a space to escape, it should allow one person out at a time while other parts of the glass ceiling remained intact.
Women were pitted against each other and made to believe in the survival of the fittest, while men continued to expand their horizons in a multidirectional way.
It was also falsely popularized that a woman is a woman’s greatest enemy, as one competes with the other for her space—a single area that has already been brought to light where women can show their potential without posing much of a threat to the patriarchy.
In all the places where the blows in the glass ceiling are being made, cracks appear, blurring the view for those living under it.
These blurred views of vision represent the various distorted perceptions of reality according to which society comprehends the success of a woman as being an easy one achieved by sheer dumb luck, at the cost of family and honour, or through unfair means.
Often, these cracked perceptions multiplied by the inhibition created by the stale atmosphere of the above-mentioned ecosystem create a kaleidoscopic view of reality that being more colourful adds to the entertainment value of a tale, renders the reality a farce, and poses a direct challenge to the inspiration that the other women could have taken from their sister’s success story.
However, Marie Curie became the first and only person to have received a Nobel Prize in two different scientific disciplines, when Margaret Hamilton, the lead software designer for NASA’s Apollo program saved the mission through her flight software which prevented a last-minute calling off of the landing on the Moon; when Mary Wollstonecraft, Simone de Beauvoir, Helen Cixous, Sandra Gilbert, Virginia Woolf and many others enlightened women regarding their “second sex” status, about the atrocities and mechanisms of patriarchy with which women have been manipulated to not try their horizons and venture beyond them.
When Malala Yousafzai took a bullet for her right to education; when actress Neena Gupta boldly decided to raise her love child and didn’t let the stigma of honour and single motherhood attach to her family when in the regressive Bollywood industry actresses like Anushka Sharma and Kareena Kapoor embraced motherhood at the peak of their career and continued to take on the lead roles in movies post their maternity leave and actresses like Priyanka Chopra made her name internationally advocating the all-triumphing importance of financial independence and love in marriage rather than age.
When acid attack fighters like Laxmi Agrawal refused to suffer and become depressed and built fruitful lives and entrepreneurial ventures for themselves; when even after being amputated Arunima Singh didn’t let the tragedy overpower her spirits and scaled Mount Everest, each gave such permanent and damaging blows to the glass ceiling in so many, multi-faceted directions that a large part of the ceiling came down in the past century and a half.
This gap made the fresh flow of breeze permanent, and the stagnation of millennia escaped.
All this shattering of the glass ceiling, thus, is not an individual’s localized case, but the collective effect of many women’s effort to break free in all possible directions, simultaneously and continuously, striking with whatever force they were, and are, able to apply.
Veena got into the lift. It was a festival day, and the space was crammed with little children dressed in bright yellow clothes, wearing fancy peacock feather crowns, and carrying flutes. Janmashtami gave her the jitters. She kept her face down, refusing to socialize with anyone.
They had moved to this new apartment three months ago. The whole point of shifting had been to get away from the ruthless questioning by ‘well-wishers’.
“You have been married for ten years! Why no child yet?”
“Have you checked with the doctor? Is something wrong?”
“Keep a fast on Tuesdays. Feed cows. Must be the previous birth’s sin.”
“Eat vitamins. You are too thin! Dieting? That’s why no baby!”
Veena and her husband, Nishant, had been college sweethearts. They were married for a decade and had been trying for a baby for the past six years. Initially, they had been relaxed. As they grew older, pressure mounted. Relatives, friends, and neighbours had only one question to ask.
When are you giving us ‘Good News’?
They went for tests, and the results had been devastating. The doctor suggested fertility treatments. Three gruelling cycles of IVF were unsuccessful. Veena endured the mood swings, the pain, and the heat flashes; yet her womb remained stubborn. She kept blaming herself till the worry started eating her from inside.
Had she drunk too much coffee? Had she participated in too many sports? Has she waited too long?
When the pointed questions became more painful than the IVF failures, she sunk into depression. Nishant had suggested adoption, but she wasn’t able to reconcile.
Wouldn’t that mean that her body had failed her? She had perfect grades, a perfect job, a perfect home. Wasn’t adoption akin to quitting? What would people say?
They fought for months. That’s when Nishant suggested a change of scene.
To start afresh.
The clanging of the lift bell awakened Veena from her rumination. She alighted and walked up to her flat. The door of the opposite apartment was open. As Veena looked up, she noticed with a grimace that SHE was there. ‘SHE’ was the elderly grandmother who kept looking at her, hoping to initiate conversation.
Veena had ignored the woman most of the time. Once, that old crone had had the audacity to turn up at her doorstep and offer her snacks. Must be another gossipmonger, waiting to spread rumours. She shook her head and closed the door politely.
Presently, the elderly woman was drawing a giant white Rangoli in front of her apartment. The door of the house was open and revealed little white footprints, that lead from the entrance, all the way indoors, as if a little child were walking. Veena sighed.
A reminder of what she didn’t have. How many Janmashtamis had she fasted in the hope that she would be blessed? Every year, she saw the most adorable children dressed like little Krishna. Why couldn’t one of those be hers?
Her glance had lingered a second too long. The old lady looked up at her.
“Why don’t you come in and have some tea with us?” she asked.
The lady hobbled up to Veena, and reached out for her hand. She felt a sudden calm.
“How do I address you? How do you speak Hindi so well?” she asked curiously.
“You can call me Gowriamma. We are from Chennai, but my husband was posted in the navy. I have travelled all over India and can speak many languages. It will be nice to chat. Come, dear.”
Veena followed Gowriamma indoors. The air was rich with the scent of rose water, and incense. Her eyes fell on the pooja room in front of her. Elaborately decorated with flowers and lights, it housed Gods of every shape and size. At the center of the room was a cradle with a little idol of Krishna in it. Seeing this, a lump formed in Veena‘s throat.
Gowriamma rolled a straw mat on the ground, and Veena sat down on it. She offered her some tea and fried snacks.
“Tell me about yourself!”
‘I’m Veena. I moved in here recently with my husband. And before you ask, I don’t have any children.”
“I wasn’t planning to ask.”
“Really? Every woman looks at me as though I am incomplete or a damaged piece of goods. It hurts!” she burst into tears, relieved to voice her insecurities out loud.
Gowriamma kept silent, until Veena gained her composure. Then she spoke softly.
“Every woman is a manifestation of the divine mother Goddess. She is complete in herself. She encompasses the entire cosmos. Who are we judge what is complete and what isn’t?”
Veena sniffed through her tears.
“IVF didn’t work. My husband has given up. I feel useless.”
“Why do you define your worth by your ability to conceive? What is the connection?”
“I…I…everyone looks at me with pity. I hate it!”
“Do you want to be a mother?”
“Yes. There is nothing more that I could want.”
“Then why not consider adoption?”
“What do I know about the child I’m going to adopt? How do I accept the child as my own? What about their gene pool?”
“Let me tell you a story.” Gowriamma began.
“Once upon a time, in a village, a woman had given birth to a girl. But due to a mix-up, her baby got switched with a baby boy.”
“Like in a hospital mix-up?” Veena asked curiously.
“Something like that. The woman wasn’t aware that this boy wasn’t her son, and she raised him with utmost love and affection. The boy was a prankster initially but grew up to be a real charmer and a valiant warrior. He managed to kill a cruel king and reclaim his kingdom. In reality, the boy was a royal, the nephew of the king he slew. Today, we worship this boy as a God. The boy’s uncle had been a monster. Yet, the boy was a God. People do not remember the woman who gave birth to him. It is the woman who raised him that is remembered and revered.”
“But, didn’t the woman miss her birth-child, over the child she raised?”
“Ah, but she birthed him too. Perhaps not from her stomach, but from her heart.”
Veena pondered over this. Why did this story seem familiar? Suddenly it dawned on her.
“This is Yashoda’s story. Krishna’s mother!”
“Yes, Yashoda was the mother who raised Krishna, even though it was Devaki who gave birth to him. However, Nurture overrules nature. He could have been a tyrant like his uncle. But he didn’t turn out that way- instead he is worshipped, even today. The love you give to a baby will shape their character and future. And who knows whom you are bringing home? Perhaps, another Krishna?”
Gowriamma’s words touched Veena’s heart.
“There are many children out there waiting to find loving parents. Why don’t you bring joy to one of them, rather than going through the agony of repeated medical procedures? Ultimately, what you decide is your choice. There are no right and wrongs. May you find the happiness you are looking for.”
Veena did not know for how long she sat there. Something in her shifted. When it was time for her to leave, Gowriamma gave her a gift- a baby Krishna in a miniature cradle. This time, Veena didn’t feel the sting. She felt something flutter in her chest. Something she had not felt for a long time.
Hope.
Nishant prayed that his wife would be in a better mood. The baby thing was tearing them apart.
When was the last time she had smiled?
He stood in front of the apartment and rang the doorbell. The door swung open, revealing lights and decorations. He was startled. Usually, it was locked, dingy, and gloomy.
Had something happened?
Veena was wearing a purple saree, and her hair was tied up with jasmine flowers. She looked stunningly beautiful. She sat in front of their pooja room, where she had set up a little Krishna figurine and was praying to it.
“Veena, if you want another cycle IVF. Let’s go for it. I can’t bear to see you unhappy,” he blurted out.
She shook her head.
“No, Nishant. Let’s adopt, like you suggested.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m certain.”
Veena looked fondly at the Krishna figurine that had its arms stretched out to her. Soon there would be the pitter-patter of little feet. Their baby was waiting out there somewhere. People could keep their opinions and tips to themselves.
She would bring her baby home and be the perfect mother to them.
As a mother who always strives to enrich my daughter’s experiences, I was excited to take her to the iconic Brindavan Gardens in Mysore and the picturesque Botanical Garden in Ooty.
Armed with the knowledge that these places offered wheelchairs for visitors with mobility challenges, we embarked on our journey with high hopes of creating lasting memories. Little did I know that our enthusiasm would soon be dampened by the disappointing reality of broken wheelchairs, not just once but twice.
In an era where inclusivity is championed, it is disheartening to encounter barriers that impede the experiences of individuals with disabilities. Both Brindavan Gardens and Ooty Botanical Garden proudly advertise their commitment to accessibility, claiming to provide wheelchairs for those in need.
However, the stark reality on the ground contradicts these promises, leaving visitors like us feeling let down and frustrated.
Upon reaching the parks, we were eager to avail the promised wheelchairs, only to be informed that the available ones were in a state of disrepair. This not only posed a significant inconvenience but also raised questions about the commitment of these popular tourist destinations to ensuring a truly inclusive experience for all visitors.
It’s disheartening to witness the disappointment on my daughter’s face as she struggled to navigate the uneven terrain without the assistance of a wheelchair. The broken wheelchairs not only hindered her mobility but also cast a shadow over what was supposed to be a joyous and carefree day.
Parks like Brindavan Gardens and Ooty Botanical Garden are not just recreational spaces but significant public assets. Millions are invested in their development and maintenance, and it is only fair to expect that a fraction of these funds be allocated to maintaining functional wheelchairs.
Ensuring the availability of working wheelchairs is not just a matter of fulfilling legal requirements, but an ethical responsibility to make public spaces truly accessible to everyone.
It is crucial for authorities overseeing these public spaces to recognize the urgency of addressing accessibility issues. By investing in well-maintained wheelchairs and other facilities, they can create an environment where all visitors, regardless of their physical abilities, can fully enjoy the beauty these parks have to offer.
The broken wheelchairs at Brindavan Gardens in Mysore and Ooty Botanical Garden were a stark reminder of the work that still needs to be done to ensure true inclusivity in our public spaces. I sincerely hope our experience prompts those in charge to reevaluate their commitment to accessibility and take immediate steps to rectify the situation.
After all, everyone deserves the chance to explore and appreciate the wonders of these parks without unnecessary hindrances.
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