“Mumma, what gift do you need this mother’s day?” Bahaar, my teenager, asked me yesterday.
When the part of me, probably coming from my Granny’s genes, wanted to respond, ” Write your XII board exams excellently, and become who you want to become.” But a part of me, from my learned experience, replied, “love yourself the way you love me, your dad, and Nishttha (my little one), always. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Probably, loving and caring for people around us more than ourselves is something we women got from age-old celebrations, which is excellent, but not enough.
While I take pride in my value of “celebrating others,” I also love antique jewelry more than myself. But it doesn’t stop me from challenging antique patterns of caretaking & homemaking responsibilities seen any less than office work.
Every mother is a working mother – the only difference is where they work and what they do.
So, I and my sister and my brother were raised by a working mom. Being the eldest of three, did I become the third parent as a 4-year-old? Yes. Was I scared some days? Yes.
When my grades were terrible in social studies, my mom was my teacher in school, and I was to stand outside the class. My classmates might have felt sorry, and my mom would’ve felt guilty. I never felt anything wrong about it as a child. I loved every bit of my life – my fights and trades, being a counselor didi to my siblings’ friends, and whatnot.
One of many memories that I hold is when we together used to select the embroidery and print patterns to turn her plain sarees to match the trends of the time. She also taught us to engage ourselves in interests like embroidery and others. Almost all our relatives have one or more teddy bears made by my sister – whether it is out of love or force, that is a different story.
The memory of my 5-year-old brother mopping the floor, my sister cooking for the first time, and I going to take the LPG cylinder from Bharat Gas Agency (which was a 3-4 hour exercise of waiting in a queue, loading it on the bicycle, and getting home without hurting myself) has earned a permanent place on the festive meals together.
These productive ways of dealing with our time, decision-making capacities, and powers helped us immensely, even as adults.
Yes, I missed my mom many afternoons. I used to feel happy when she took the day off, and I could come home to my favorite pulav and a warm hug rather than a cold meal to warm for myself and my siblings. Still, I never experienced that as the primary role of women.
Fast forward years later, we three are now on three different continents; My sister and I are two working moms holding key positions, raising next generation Bahaar, Nishttha, and Avira, and have been doing very well.
Bahaar and Nishttha, if one of them is doing something which might raise parents’ brows, the sisterhood is an unsaid silent contract, and another one would do everything to prove the deed right. I think Avira will sign up for their unsaid agreement soon, as they are not accepting thumb impressions yet. Also, we all are waiting to hug Avira outside of facetime.
Despite having a supportive family and being raised by working women, did I not feel the guilt? Of course, I get on the guilt trips. Quite often. Still, I am proud to pen three nonnegotiable manifestos for my daughters, Bahaar, Nishhtha, and Avira.
1. Reject the idea that motherhood and work are mutually exclusive. Do what you love.
2. Gender roles are absolute nonsense. As one of my favorite authors, Chimamanda Adichie, says, “Because you are a girl is never a reason for anything. Ever.” Whenever you feel guilty, ask yourself, “Will I feel the same way if I were the other parent?”.
3. People will selectively use tradition to justify anything. Go by your discernment.
I don’t want a SuperMom title from my daughters and messages with ten hands tending to ten different things from my well-intended friends and colleagues. I am not an image of a perfect mom and office going (working from home these days). No provoking of any guilt trip in me, please;
All I request this Mother’s Day is: for moms to be nothing less than proud and for partners and families not to talk but walk the walk and support. We together will explore ways to build more inclusive families, workplaces, and communities for ourselves and future generations.
Happy Mothers Day! Make it wholesome in your small ways!