Every evening, Veena spent an hour at the park. A short and
slightly plump woman of forty, Veena had been told that exercise and a balanced
diet was the only way to cope with diabetes. The park was usually crowded in
the evenings. Several ladies discussing domestic issues monopolized the walking
track, middle aged men walked in a medium pace in clusters while techies
jostled in-between these groups jogging spiritedly and occasionally children
raced through the track, bumping their way through.
In such conditions, one inadvertently heard snatches of
conversations that entertained the listener greatly. Young working women
chatted about their workplace and the challenges of managing the household, middle
aged ladies complaining about their husbands, children, in-laws, domestic
helpers and generally everybody who disagreed with them while the grannies
mostly hobbled around at a slow pace or discussed the achievements of their
grandchildren in the comforts of a bench. The men on the other hand mostly
discussed politics and cricket while some ranted about their wives.
One evening, as Veena was walking towards the park, three
girls, probably in their pre-teens came out of the park. They appeared to be
having a deep discussion. The girl in the middle looked confused and upset
while the other two were doing the talking.
“Accept it, you were born a girl and will remain one all
your life” said one of the two.
“Yeah, what makes you feel so bad about it? You can’t change
things. Accept the fact” added the other.
The girl in between them remained silent but it was clear
from her skeptical looks that she wasn’t convinced.
Veena smiled to herself as she heard this. It reminded her
of her own search for an identity during her youth.
Born in village near Bangalore, Veena, for most of her
childhood had hated herself. It came as a consequence of the continual nagging
of her family. Since she was born in a patriarchal family, Veena’s birth was
heralded as “yet another bundle of expenses” and she had been looked down upon
for the only reason that she was a girl. Initially it had surprised her
innocent mind, but over time she grew accustomed to the ways of her family.
Her teenage years were tormented. She could no longer stand
the snide remarks, the unwarranted chiding and longed for love and affection.
What amazed her was that her detractors were mostly the
female members of the family. Didn’t they realize that they were no different?
In her quest for love and appreciation, she participated in
boys’ games and helped the men on the fields, hoping that she would finally
gain acceptance in her family. She was mistaken. They had found another reason
to castigate her.
“Since you’ve had the misfortune of being born as a girl, at
least behave like one! What’s all this tomboy behavior?” berated her
grandmother.
Veena had a miserable time during those years and had grown
to consider being born a girl as a curse. Out of desperation and determination
to get away from the wretched backwardness of her village, she left the village
in the hope of a better life in Bangalore.
Due to the kindness of a stranger,
she found employment and consequently, a good income and an accommodation.
Here, Veena was exposed to the changing times, the progression in women’s
empowerment and the rapidly evolving society.
Over time, she met a man, who loved and cared for her, for
who she was and Veena settled down happily. She continued to work post marriage
and they lived a contented life. She had made no attempt to reunite with her
family and neither had they succeeded in tracing her. She was happier than ever
before, yet the scars of her childhood left her in self-doubt and demoralized
her at times.
Things changed forever on 20th September 1990, in
a small room in a hospital, as she held her new born daughter in her hands. As
she looked at the bundle of joy, tears brimmed in her eyes. She felt a strange,
inexplicable sensation tingling in her; the beauty of Motherhood. She had never
before felt so elated; despite the pain that seared through her, she felt at
peace with herself. Motherhood had made her embrace the joy of being a woman.
She smiled to herself. She saw some similarity in the girl’s
predicament. But she knew, a time would come, when the girl would feel ecstatic
about what she probably regretted being today…
A few days back, I heard the exact same conversation as I've mentioned in the story, as I was walking to the park.. And that set me thinking.. Probably "Over thinking" :P
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