My many women, and the Alpha-woman
To all the beautiful women in my life who have helped me see the world through their own coloured eyes, I might not see it the same way you do, but thanks for helping me see beauty in those colours.
As a child, I never realised how important it was for young girls like me to have role models. In hindsight, I had many, without even knowing it was called that; my first standard class teacher Sunita madam who taught me that inhe(इनहे) and unhe(उन्हे) are to be pronounced as if you have one finger on your nose and bring your nasal tone, among many other nuances of the Hindi language, Jyothi madam who once let me in on a secret that I was her favourite student, Preetha madam who told me I was a kind girl and I should carry this trait to my grave, Chandra Moorthi madam who gave me a birthday gift on my tenth birthday, Leelavathi madam who urged my parents to make me learn music; Rugmini madam without whom I might not have been peeved so much by bad grammar, the list is not all-encompassing. I have had many women celebrities, teachers, CEOs, and housekeeping staff from school( Santhi aunty’s face comes to mind) who have been the ingredients of what I call the cake of inspiration.
Many times, I tend to discount the role my mother played(and plays) in my life. To describe her in one sentence would be hard but here is an attempt- the one woman who can, in one moment, make me want to grit my teeth annoyed and seething, shout at her for not seeing my point, and hug her tight and bite her cheek with love, in the next. The more I see many young girls around me still shy and many a time afraid(for various reasons), the more I appreciate the upbringing I have received from my parents, especially my mother.
R. Geetha, Accountant, Head Post Office Palakkad, those are the words that went on any official document and, through my primary years, made me think that is who she was. She holds a masters in Biochemistry from one of the best colleges in Coimbatore(of the day), and stayed in hostels for many years of her schooling which was pretty uncommon in those days. Probably these are the experiences that made her so sharp, witty, and street smart. I still keep telling her that probably taking up the Government job was not one of her best decisions, but she shuts me up every time.
I remember this one day when I had my Maths olympiad, it was my first time with the OMR sheet(the bubbling sheet). Like a genius, I had marked all of my answers on my question paper thinking I would get enough time to mark them on the sheet, only to see the pounding steps of the invigilator approaching me to snatch the paper away from me five minutes before the time ran out. I came out of the exam hall crying that day. What would you imagine? A loving mother wiping the tears of her weeping child and saying it was okay?
R.Geetha had a different approach; she took turns to tease and scold me every five minutes. Hard love much? Clearly, she was disappointed, for a woman who spent three hours outside the exam hall praying for her kid- and she made sure that I knew that she was disappointed — no facade of sugar-coating whatsoever, period. Geethamma was no different from the Indian mothers who would ask their children why they lost those two marks when they came home with a “whooping” score of 98/100. I would attribute a lion’s share of my competitiveness to my mother.
As much as I have known her, Geethamma is never one to stoop in front of others. Everyone who knows her acknowledges that her traits are highly sycophancy-phobic. She has a rakish air to herself. I am in dearth of words when it comes to describing how much of a go-getter she is, in her own terms. My Geethamma would not adjust for the male in the house(my father) if she felt he was being unreasonable, she would not pay heed to the “Head of the Family” if he said that is how good households worked. This is not to say that my father was unreasonable, he is the single most sensible and loving man in my life, but imperfection is a human trait and my father is no exception. I would laugh at the fights my parents have because my father, who grew up in a patriarchal setting would often lose to my relentlessly logical mother who would simply not give up. She would cook food for him, but if he was too angry(because of some obvious bickering that must have happened) to eat it, his loss, she would say. Gradually I saw my father changing(we are not done changing yet), under my mother's unusual(but effective) tutelage, heck, he even clicked pictures with me in my shorts(albeit, knee-length) on our Goa trip(my biggest achievement till date).
Geethamma taught me, strike that, she showed me how important money was, no she is not greedy, she is frugal, as frugal as frugal would get. She told me that I would not have to depend on anyone if I had a job of my own that would put food on my plate, clothes on my back, and a roof over my head. My friends mock me when I check the prices on the tags on Kurtis before buying them. “Navi, you are their only daughter, what are you going to do with all that money, stop being so miserly”, they would say. Anything above five hundred rupees needed special permission from her highness which included a herculean series of steps of proving the quality of the cloth, the worth of money, and an absence of gold print(cuz it would wear off quickly). I would have to then double-check to see if the same thing was not available in another shop at a cheaper rate. When they say that I am rich because both my parents were working, my Amma would jokingly tell me, “Your parents might be rich, Navi, but you are not”. She also tells me how much they have had to work to get to where they are, and I would not call us rich. This is not to say that I had a hard life, my life was easy, at least easier than so many unfortunate people out there, and my Amma ensured that I knew it. To this day, she asks me to keep working hard and never settle. She knew she was not going to coddle(as was the usual) her only child. She would not let me indulge unreasonably, making sure I earned most of what I possessed.
The other day, my best friend asked me who I was most vulnerable with. I had to think for a while(a little wistfully) before giving her an answer. I told her that, without a doubt, it would be my mother. There are innumerable times when I have been a total brat and shouted at her when things were not going my way. Unlike most mothers who would take the hit and keep quiet, my mother would turn a deaf ear to my whimsies and walk her own way. I am ever so grateful for this trait of hers that gets to my nerves and helps me become calmer at the same time.
To my Geethamma: Amma, if you have been patient enough to read till here, I am surprised(Yes, she is one highly impatient lady). You are the definition of “breaking the bias” for me. Thank you for being this bold, so ferociously bold, Amma. Thank you for defying the stereotypes at the grassroots. You will always be my guiding light.
