As I travel back in time, I feel so exhausted. I had been chasing time, reaching nowhere. The day I completed my graduation as a topper, the expectations from myself started. Competing with the opposite gender at that time was difficult. I started by taking tuitions for the needy children. They paid a token amount and I got engaged. After two years of graduation, I finally landed a full-time job—a job that my heart had always wished for. I found the purpose of my life as if I had studied to achieve this. I started enjoying being called ma’am. After all, I became a lecturer in college. Every month, the salary seemed so rewarding and months turned into two years. But as they say, you need to pay for anything you get. My father suffered a heart attack. The intensity was so high that we had to shift him to another city. My mother was also working at that time. Father’s bypass surgery and he was considered incompetent to resume his job. The responsibility of my brother’s studies and stay at the hostel including all expenses of home fell on my mother and me. As a dutiful daughter, I never had a problem spending money on my family. But there is a difference between spending and becoming solely responsible for everything. Under the tag of strength and perseverance somewhere I forgot to live for myself. To remain in the field of teaching, I had to do a master’s. I secured admission on my merit after seven years of work. Two years of post-graduation required tremendous courage. From lecturer to student again was difficult, but that’s what I was always used to doing. With an ongoing job, I finished my master’s with a gold medal. I was praised for all the achievements, but somewhere, a part of me again gave up just for the sake of job security. I didn’t wish to get married, so it was quite clear that I was the only bearer of the whole load, not physical but all other. Managing distant family ties, maintaining relations, I had become like a candle burning from both sides. My sister got married. My brother got married. I was still single till at the age of 34, out of nowhere, there was a proposal and everyone agreed. But I was worried about how expenses would be managed, who would take the responsibilities of social and emotional ties. I didn’t share my apprehensions with anyone and got married. Starting a life and family with someone at 34 was a challenge. I was trying to manage work life, family life and many other things at the same time. Over these years, I never had any inclination towards such a relationship. I never had any fantasies nor was I inclined towards the opposite gender. The purpose of marriage and physically being a woman, I was under an unknown pressure to produce a child. The physical intimacy was also according to the ovulation dates. Whether you are in a state or not, as it was that particular day, I had to be intimate. Months passed by, and suddenly there was a knock on my uterine wall, and two pink lines appeared. It felt like an achievement as after marriage it was only this that seemed like a medal. I became a mother. But again everything comes with a price to be paid. There was a financial crisis and I had to continue working even after bearing a child. Deep within there was something that got buried. I was given the tag of a strong woman who was back to work after a high-risk pregnancy. Working hours seemed too long as I wished to see my baby, cuddle him and hug him. But still it all went on. Gradually, the baby grew up, and the in-laws also got older. There was a need for my presence emotionally, physically and financially. Someone is not well, someone needs my time, someone needs me to make up the EMI’s. And the cycle went on and on until the day arrived when I was asked to speak on Women’s Day, 8th March. I went blank, why am I supposed to speak about what it means to be a woman? Was I a woman in a true sense? It seemed that I was a masculine figure in the physical body of a female. The weight of the tags like strong woman, courageous mother, one man army pulled me into the abyss of unending commitments. I didn’t realise that over all these years, I had been pulling the life of an ox that carries a burden without thinking of the pain it feels. This made me prepare a speech, where I was to talk about women’s empowerment. But as I stood up, something that was buried popped up. As I held the mic, a stream of incessant tears flowed. Taking a pause, I gathered strength and started, ” On this women’s day, I wish to be a woman again. The carefree daughter who could live her life on her terms. The one who would demand and get anything she wanted. A loving wife, who wishes to prepare breakfast, lunch, dinner and wait for her husband. A wife who can get angry with her husband, a wife who can enjoy without any timeliness to be met. A wife who can tell his husband that she wants to go to her parents’ home for vacation. A wife who can be vulnerable without any fear. A wife who can complain about the child to her husband. I want to be that daughter-in-law who is always there for any social gatherings. The one who is always available and whose advice is sought in the family for social decisions. Above all, I want to be a mother to my child. I wish to see my baby grow up every day, and I wish to feed him every meal. I wish to be with my baby. I don’t want to be available in instalments. I want to drop him off at school and pick him up from school. I want to be available for him when he comes back from school. I want to serve him hot chapatis.
Though I have been working for 20 years, I am keeping up with every responsibility, and I am raising my son right. I am doing my duties as daughter, daughter-in-law, wife and mother, but somewhere the woman within has died. I want to be that woman again.
