The Road Trip

                                                

                                                            I

Do you want to listen to Adele again?

Oui! But first, let me get this fucking GPS to talk in French. I cannot follow the stupid American accent.  Petit Conasse, can you please read the address for me?

Absolutely, my little slut! It is, 140 E. Walton Place, Magnificent Mile, Chicago, IL 60611.

Voila! We are ready to go to Chi-ca-go! I am so excited! Let’s listen to Someone Like You.

It’s like our little theme song now. Two single women. Women or girls?

Girls. Let’s be girls.

Yeah. Two freshly single girls, if I may add. Singing Someone Like You loudly over Adele’s voice, going to Chicago from Lansing. We are so happy, yet so sad.

I am French. All of us are always sad.

In India they prepare you for lifelong suffering, right from birth. It’s okay to be sad. When you’re sad about the big things, you can get euphoric over the smallest of things. I cannot imagine always being happy. It would be exhausting.

Yeah I agree. Sometimes I force myself to think positive when I don’t want to, and then I feel very tired from all the effort I put into it. It is easier to be sad when you want to be sad. You can be happy later.

 I know! We have our entire lonely life ahead of us to be happy! Fuck this road. I wish I could add some hills along this way.

 I could cut paste some from South of France. Or you could bring some Himalayas.

But the blues are a calling at the end of this road! Maybe we will meet some cute guys!

Pff! I don’t care. I am not so good when I flirt in English. I get tired from translating in my head. But we can go to the French Markets and get some cheese. That’s as good as having sex for me.

Cheese that smells like socks.

Will you please shut your mouth about my cheese?

Okay sorry! We’ll get the cheese and I will help you flirt. But you don’t need to flirt. You’re so pretty.

Ah Non! My, what do you call it, the part between your knees and your feet?

Ankles?

No. Between that and the knees?

Calves?

Yes! My calves are fat.

No they are not. And you don’t pronounce the ‘L’ in calves. It’s Ka-aa-v-s.

I don’t give a tiny rat’s ass.

Oh! You picked that up nice! I will teach you more.

I teach you French, you teach me English. I tell you about French mustard and baguette. You tell me about roti and paneer. We make an awesome couple.

Yeah! You know, our trips remind me of On the Road by Kerouac. Sur La Route. Except, he doesn’t whine about how monotonous the Midwest roads can get. He writes passionately about the corn fields and the clear starry skies instead.

How about the sunsets in the Midwest? Someone should write about it. Every evening the Sun gives a big hug to the corn fields. It is as if the sky is trying to make up for the boring earth. Sometimes, I just want to go right in the middle of a corn field and watch the sky turn pink, sitting next to a cow.  

You are so poetic! But there’s something good in every place. Today, we are bitter and lost. But in a few years, no matter where we are, this place is going to make us nostalgic. You, Ms. I-am-so-French, are going to miss The United States.

Non! Never! I will miss these times, but I will never miss this country.

You cannot separate time and place when your head is in the cloud of memories. You will miss everything. Even the big fat sugary muffin from the corner coffee shop. Our minds have the ability to edit memories. They are filtered to keep the happiest.  

In a way you are right. I didn’t like the time when I was in Toulouse. But now I miss it. Fabrice was never really in love with me but I was in love. And when you are in love, you remember those days with happiness.

Are you out of love now?

I don’t know. But I moved seven thousand kilometres to get over it. So at least I am far away. And you know, the idea that only one man is made for you is kind of crap. I think there’s only one rever, what do you call it in English, the story you see in your sleep and then sometimes you make one up, when you’re bored and awake?

A dream? Yes. It is a dream.  A reverie.

So you are just looking for someone to make that dream with. My dream is to live on a farm. I didn’t really want to get a PhD. I kind of kept studying and I ended up here. I would like to make cheese on my farm as a business. Live there with my three kids and a husband.

Cheese, which is organic and dairy free!

Oh come on! Don’t make fun of my Frenchness. For a long time, I was sure that it was going to come true. Now, not so much.

You are absolutely right about the dream. But the trouble is, we are trying to cast actors who are not willing to be a part of our movie. Our dreams and their dreams don’t match. And in our times, dreams are the only flimsy strings, which tie us together. What do we believe in, apart from our dreams? Our dreams even come with a plan B.

We believe in our phones. And our music. On that note, could you play something nice?

Like Edith Piaf?

Non! Zazie! Je Suis Un Homme!

What do we believe in? Do we believe in God? No one gets terrified into being good any more. We are good because we want to be good. No one is forced to get married because they got someone pregnant. People get married because they share the same dream. And that’s good. That is how it should happen.

In India people get married all the time. How do they do it? Indian men are not as much afraid of marriage as the French.

Ha! That’s because they aren’t really free.

What do you mean?

You know, the Indian middle class kids, the ones you meet here in the US, are raised on an imaginary conveyor belt. They are raised to excel at everything that brings status. Education, employment, marriage, family! There’s no breathing space. You can’t be a chef if that’s what you are passionate about. You have to be an engineer. That’s considered good. They are produced, quality controlled and packaged before they are sent off to the US.

But there’s structure. Indians do certain things at certain times. When I was growing up, I used to see my father come home tired from the farm, my mother cooking our meals, and we used to help out in the kitchen. I don’t see that no more.

Would you prefer to cook meals for your family instead of what you are doing right now? And our life has a different structure. We take a two hour swim in the morning, eat fancy food grains, and do Yoga to calm the fuck down after six cups of coffee in a day. That’s also structure.

Non! I don’t mean it like that. I would love to have some of that family structure. At least the basic structure. I don’t mind if I come home from work and my husband cooks meals. I don’t even mind if it isn’t my husband but a boyfriend. As long as we have children and we live happily.

But this is an endless pursuit. Finding someone who shares our dream, then liking him enough to build a dream with him, sustaining that dream while keeping it together. Sometimes I feel like having a baby without a man.

Me too. That would not be ideal but it will be more peaceful than trying to find a man who lives in the same city as me, gets good money, is not a psycho and wants children.

You make it sound so dramatic. With a sense of impending doom.

What is doom?

It is the feeling you’ll experience if Nicholas Sarkozy gets elected again.

Ah putain!

                                                            II

So, what do you want to listen to next?

I don’t know. Something that makes me calm. Yoga music?

Alright Madame! Anoushka Shankar coming up for you. Just, for, you!

How did you decide that you’re going back to India so quickly? At first I thought you did it just to feel secure after your break up. I was kind of sure you will change your mind.

I love this life. But I don’t want to live this life forever. I don’t want to live here and also try to live in a parallel Indian Universe. The same routine: meeting Indian friends on the weekends, setting up a perfect American home with a small corner for Indian Gods. Going to the Indian store to buy dead eggplants and shredded coconuts. Talking to your kids in your language only to get a reply in English. I don’t want to be an Indian in the United States. I want to be a westernized, cultureless idiot in India.

Is it also because you are an only child? And you feel it is your duty to go back and be close to your parents?

Yes. That’s a big part of my decision. I don’t feel obligated. But I feel the loneliness in my parents’ voice when they talk to me. If I ever have a family, I would love my kids to be close to their grandparents. We do a much better job of inspiring kids as a grandparent than a parent. And I am sick of standing in front of arrogant American visa officers. I don’t want to depend on the American government emotionally. For them, I am just a number.

But what if you don’t find a man when you go back to India?

It is not about finding a man and settling down as much as it is about courage. For years, I have evaded the nosy questions about my apparently directionless life.  I have tried everything but I was never able to look them in the eye and say, “I don’t know when I am getting married. Fuck off”. I want to do that now.

That’s true. If someone overhears this conversation, they might feel we are making a big deal out of all this, but it does hurt. Even though I don’t have much pressure from family to get married, when I see my cousin with her two kids, I feel pain sometimes. It is not a good feeling but it happens to me. And then I feel bad.

It’s okay to feel envy. It gets better if you accept it. Makes it easier to move on. Maybe, your cousin also feels the same about her smart, world travelled cousin.

I know. There’s always the second side. We feel sad because we want everything. This and that too. But when I am old and lonely, my travel will not make me feel better. If I have grandkids, I will have something to look forward to.

What if you die today?

Pff! Now you’re being a big drama bitch.

No. It could happen. You never know! What should I play next?

I know what I want to listen to. That Indian song with French rap.

Delhi 6? Awesome! Rahman coming up!

Sometimes I just want to get a big glass of red wine, sit in the bath and listen to music with no thought.

And sometimes I want to analyse what all this angst is about. You feel it. I feel it. It is about something that hasn’t yet happened. Maybe it won’t happen at all.

But many of my friends are married or living with their partners. They post photos of their family online and invite me for baby showers. My uncertain future is their present already.

Yeah. Those pictures really screw us up. It used to be nice when pregnancy news was discreet. Now it turns into a fucking biology lesson. But someone might be saying the same thing about our photos. You know when we went snowboarding, or our pictures from Vegas. They must be calling us fucking show offs.

Vegas was a really good time connasse. You almost killed me by making me laugh! That’s what I really like about you. You can really talk. Something I wish I could do. Maybe we could be roommates forever.

Yeah and maybe we could also do a sitcom! I think this is a pause in our playlist. This time in the United States. We are going to come back to this pause again and again. We are going to remember it fondly all the time.

Do you want to get a coffee and a bagel?

Yes! And shmear it with cream cheese!

                                                            III

So? What next?

I don’t know. I am kind of lost now.

No. I mean what you want to listen to.

You decide.

Okay. We will play some Louisiana. Kermit Ruffins! I still can’t get over Nawlins. If I really had to choose a city to spend the rest of my life in, I would choose New Orleans. I wish I could just set up an office there.

Ha! And do what?

That’s the problem. I have to invent or discover something I could do in New Orleans. Can you imagine how great it would be to walk those roads every, single, day? The food? The beer and the music?

Pff! No! I don’t like New Orleans. It is too loud for me. I like Chicago.

That’s where we’re headed. So I am sure it will cheer you up.

I am not sad. I am just French.

But look at it this way. We are so free. We can do anything in this world.

 I don’t think freedom is really helping me. You want dark chocolate. You go into the grocery and there are seventeen kinds of dark chocolates. There’s too much choice. If I go back to Europe, which country do I go to? If I stay here, where do you I move next? I meet men all the time. But I have this awesome ability to always choose the bad ones.

First world problems.

Eh come on! Don’t be like that with me. I will make you get out of the car. Then you will have to walk to Chicago like people in India do.

Hey! We have cars in India, bitch! Both of us are victims of the opposite kinds of syndromes. I love being directionless. When I was a little girl my mom always made me drink milk. I didn’t get any tea. And I used to imagine my life as an adult. In that daydream, I had twenty cups of tea in a day. That’s why I want more choice.

It is such a pain in the ass to choose. So these days, everybody is a kid. We have toys we put around ourselves. Phones, video games, video chat, online movies and shows, headphones. And we think we are cool. We think we have everything.

Yes Grandma.

No! Seriously! We are thirty! Our mothers were done having babies at our age. My mother already had three! And I don’t even have a stable boyfriend.

But maybe we’ll produce kids of better quality. So one would be enough! When you meet the right guy, you could even have a baby in a year.

When?

Why do we hanker for this milestone? Why is it so important? Is it because everybody does it at some point or is it because we really want to do it? What if we just decide to get over it? We settle down in life. We choose a permanent place to be, we buy a house, hell we even have babies but without a man. Why is it so hard to imagine?

But nobody does it that way unless they are really late at everything.

Elephants do it. Elephants are raised by females. The females stick together and look after all the kids. Maybe be we could follow elephants.

You’re crazy. But it would be great to have kids and live with each other. I will name mine Mirabelle. What would you name yours?

If it is a boy, I will call him Kabir. And if it is a girl, Ananya.

Wow! Such beautiful names! Actually Mirabelle is the name of our cat back in France.

You just picked your cat’s name for your child? You’re a monster!

Petit Conasse! In all my fear and confusion, I am just so glad I am with Someone Like You.

Me too!

When Health Becomes a Habit

I lost 6 kilos over a period of 3 months. There are a few insights I would like to share from this ongoing journey.

1. Weight loss is 80 % diet, 20 % exercise

My previous failures have taught me that it is near impossible to outexercise your over eating. There's a logical reason behind that. Most dieters underestimate the amount of calories they eat. So you can only lose weight successfully if you stop looking at exercise as your knight in shining armour.  Exercise helps if your calories are in line. And exercise helps you in many other ways. It keeps you happy, it is great for cardiovascular health, it keeps you motivated in other tasks during the day. But it is almost powerless when it comes to relying on it solely for weight loss. You also have a limited time window to exercise in your schedule, but food can happen anywhere, anytime. So to put it in perspective, at my weight, 45 minutes of vigorous (at your peak heart rate) cycling burns 730 calories. And you eat over 700 calories if you go out for dinner at a Punjabi restaurant (2 rotis, butter chicken and Jeera rice). Now imagine yourself doing 45 minutes at that pace every time you go over your calorie goal. 

2. "Eat every 2 hours" strategy is doomed   

I was a big fan of the "Rujuta Divekar" theory, until I started practicing it. Eating moderate amount of calories every two hours does help alleviate sudden over eating after a long bout of starvation. But it needs a lot of planning. Without professional help, it becomes tedious to constantly count your macros. You also tend to over eat a little at each meal, making you miss your goal anyway. Additionally, if you are eating five times within a span of 8 - 10 hours, you end up working much more in the kitchen trying to plan healthy snacks for the day. A lot of research points to the fact that the body does not treat bulk calorie consumption and calorie instalments differently. It is our minds that need constant feeding. 

3. For me, Intermittent fasting (IF) works

I have recently jumped on to the fasting bandwagon. This theory draws justification from the eating patterns of ancient humans. They typically had a feasting phase and a fasting phase. IF can be practiced in many different ways ( https://authoritynutrition.com/intermittent-fasting-guide/). I follow the 16-8 method. I eat breakfast, lunch and tea. I stop eating at 4 PM and fast until breakfast. However, I do not consume lesser calories than what is prescribed for my BMR.  I eat all my calories in two meals. So instead of having three 300-400 calorie meals & two 100-200 calorie snacks, I go up to 600-700 calories for breakfast and 400-500 calorie for lunch. Depending on how many calories I have consumed in these two meals, I can even fit in a snack at tea. I continue to eat my macros the way they are prescribed for weight loss, avoiding sweets, fried food and sodas. The basic premise of IF is to create a time span inside your body where there is no food to be digested. Hence your insulin levels drop, triggering the conversion of stored glycogen into usable energy. 16 hours of fasting gives the body enough time to trigger that biochemistry. And if you think of it, if the popular diet urges you to eat at 7, you are incorporating a 12 hour fast into your day anyway! This method just adds a few more hours to that.  

4. Protein rich breakfast actually helps 

I have done many days of experiments where, keeping everything else identical, I only changed my breakfast to contain more protien. And it's certainly not a myth. Protein rich breakfast greatly helps weight loss. Contrary to the meticulous diet programs prescribing egg white omelettes, I have whole egg. And it doesn't derail me in any way.

5. Everybody needs a cheat day

Prior to this moderate success, I tried to restrict myself from eating out until I reached a certain weight goal. However, every "down" moment where I could not lose weight or gained half a kilo threw me into a spiral of self pity. So I incorporated a compulsory cheat day in my week. No matter what my weight loss state is, I always take my cheat day. Every week, I plan my cheat day treat and look forward to it. It keeps me well behaved on the remaining days, which means I get it right 6 out of 7 times. That's 85 %. Trust me, this is all the efficiency you need when you are on a weight loss regimen. :) 

 6. Weightloss cannot be a straight line with a negative slope. 

Don't expect it to be steady. There are going to be days when you weigh more than the previous week. But you have to keep your focus and not lose faith in your diet and work outs. It is an emotional journey but if you incorporate the fact that you can draw a straight line through all those points when you are done, life becomes easy. Sometimes  the distance between two points on the line makes you ignore the entire line. Don't let that happen. Have compassion for yourself but not pity. :)

Beyond all these insights there is one clear lesson. This cannot be a short term strategy. This has to be a lifestyle. 

Our lives are managed by larger forces which constantly aim at exploiting the addictive value of food. It is up to us to know that treats should be treated like treats! And that our body also needs a break from this constant sensory overload. Trying to do it on your own, without the help of a "weight loss program" may give you slower results but in the long run, you learn it better than trying to lease your soul to an external inspector. It teaches you a lot about food, exercise and most importantly, about yourself!

Together

I envy musicians. Every time I listen to a favorite track, I imagine how it might have been conceived: in an expensive but lonely studio at midnight, after weeks of relentless practice with a dozen musicians or just an epiphany in the shower. Whatever the source, good music has one endearing quality - all the team members have to enjoy making it in order to get that standing ovation. I don't think it happens that often in other kind of team work. Nowhere else, other than in dance and music, is the result so instant and the mistakes so obvious. I watch video after video of great concerts and always find that glow of success mixed with happiness on the faces of the performers. Even the accompanying musicians always look happy. Even though they are not the focal point, without them, it won't be as good. 

I used to repeatedly listen to this fusion by Pt. Ravishankar and Yehudi Menuhin. About six or seven years ago, this would play in a loop on my small ipod shuffle. The soothing sound of a violin and the energetic strumming of the sitar makes it really addictive. To add to that, the "East meets West" theme makes it exotic. The sound of Indian notes from a violin can suddenly escalate to an emotional level for me. So this track had always been special. 

Then I stumbled upon this!

It is a direct recreation of her father's work. This time, you can actually see the entire ensemble in action. The energy of the concert is certainly envy-inducing for me, and the legacy just makes it even more precious. All teams should be built the way musicians make it all work - together!

Purposefully Peripatetic

 

I have spent the last month deleting unpublished drafts of posts which did not pass. I even accepted for a short time that all of this is over. Writing, blogging, reading blogs and being a part of all the writers' platforms available online. 

But writing was getting difficult due to my self imposed filters. I had decided that I am not going to go down the "mommy" road. It is very tempting to write about what's constantly on your mind. And for a while, after the commencement of motherhood, your baby is the only person you want to talk about. It suddenly becomes obvious why there's an imaginary line between parents and non-parents. No matter how "cool" you try to be, you can never go back to your pre-parent days. 

I could've blogged about a million baby related things. But now that I look back, some of them were just momentarily overwhelming. 

Something that hasn't become easier with time however is, getting back in shape! I don't really subscribe to the "getting your body back" school of thought. Because I don't believe motherhood has in anyway taken away my body! It's still very much here and is perhaps more obvious now than before!

But during my experiments with different work outs, I made a really good choice. I bought an activity band. And it has changed my life. An activity band something you wear on your wrist, which syncs with your phone and diet apps such as myfitnesspal. You can put in your diet diary and your workouts and know how much over or under you are for your goal. The ideal activity goal is taking 10000 steps every single day. To put it in perspective, if I don't exercise, even after running behind my crawling son four hours a day, I manage to take only 4000 steps. So 60 % of my target activity has to come out of purpose and intention. 100 % of my food intake has to come with purpose and intention! 

I use the Jawbone UP (move) tracker. It has a computer generated Smartcoach, which keeps egging you on, without nagging you. The effectiveness of this way of losing weight or staying fit is the statistical analysis that goes on everyday about your habits. It has three sections, sleep, food and activity. It monitors all three parameters and draws charts to show you where you need improvement and where you're doing great. 

If you're meeting all your goals, there's a software generated "pat on the back". If you're slowing down, there's a friendly concern, or just an observation posted on your home screen. It's far better than actual humans trying to give you advice on how to lose weight. 

So now, if I have to walk across the street to get something, I don't just rejoice in the thought of upping my step score, I also take the stairs! I look forward to beating myself at my own game and I take weekends as an opportunity to eat extra healthy and build a bigger step score. It has given my exhaustingly busy life an amazing new purpose (yes! Even beyond all the greatness and satisfaction of motherhood). 

And on that note, let me also confess that motherhood is anything but that delicate Johnson & Johnson advertisement you see on TV. This Friday, after spending a entire day agonising over whether to take along my son to a party, I got stuck with him in traffic on my way home just before the party. And by the time I had gone through the usual drill of changing and feeding him dinner, he just decided to fall fast asleep with no care in the world for any party. So I decided to go by myself leaving him in the care of my mother. I called a taxi after a really long time. And the feeling of being in a quiet transit, with old Hindi songs playing in the taxi, wind in my freshly washed hair -- best 30 minutes of my recent life! :) 

And I still managed to miss my son all the while I was at the party! 

Feminism in 8 minutes

http://youtu.be/WlYxmO8jVC8

There's much talk going on about Barkha Dutt's rebuttal, when she was trying to defend India at an international conference. 

Is India safe for women? 

Yes. It is. If we go into the statistics of reported rapes, India fares much better than some developed countries. But is safety the only thing we aspire for? We must be safe. It shouldn't even be a point for statistical analysis. But more than safety, it is the perception of a woman's role in the society that desperately needs a change.

The link above is from a Marathi movie released in 1937. In the 8 minutes above, one gets a lesson in how domestic violence against women works in India. It's not just a man Vs woman fight. Sadly, women also encourage violence against other women. In the clip, the aunt in law instigates her nephew to beat his wife, convincing him that it is okay because she got beaten up by her husband too. And when he hesitates, he is considered "weak". 

The movie tells a story of Nira, a young orphaned woman who is married off by her relatives to an old man. She rebels against it in ways which would be considered too radical even today. But it is a fight on principle. She wants people to be terrified of marrying old men to young girls lest they all turn out to be like her. 

The song following the scene is one of my all time favourite songs. So glad it has subtitles. 

First of all, women have to stop playing a part in holding other women back. I think when older women try to push men to control their wives, it stems out of envy. Sometimes it hides under the mask of religion or traditions. At others, it is just a psychological power struggle. 

Last week, one of our neighbours in the adjacent complex heard a woman wailing out of pain. It sounded like someone was hitting her with sticks. My mother was called immediately as she is the secretary of the complex. The person who called her left when the wife beater opened the door, leaving my mother alone. Inside, she found a man and his mother, next to a crib with a two month old baby. When she asked what was going on, they said nothing. She asked them to call the mother of the baby into the living room. When she came out, she was shaking. She looked like she had been crying all day. When asked why she was crying, the husband replied that they had got into a fight because her parents did not pay for the delivery of the baby. When asked if she had been beaten, she started sobbing helplessly. Then the husband took her inside and when she returned she said, sobbing all along, that she was very happy being a part of the family and she had no complaints whatsoever. My mother left them with a warning that next time they hear a similar noise, the society would call the cops. 

The bride's parents are supposed to cover all the costs of all the ceremonies from the wedding leading up to the birth of the first child. If they fail (or refuse) to follow any of the expected duties, they are met with an unexplained grumpiness (at best) to serious domestic violence (at worst). Even if the bride isn't financially dependent on the groom's family, her family is supposed to follow the "traditions" designed in an era where women did not have a separate existence from their husbands. 

The circle of suppression continues almost as a revenge. The mother in law relives the position of power that her mother in law enjoyed when she was a young bride. When a daughter in law quits her job after the birth of her child, it is also partly due to psychological pressure to follow in the footsteps of her mother in law, who never ventured out of the house. 

Why can't the revenge happen at the right time with the right people? Why should you seek it against the same gender in the next generation? Why can't to stand up for yourself like Nira? If you do that, you would never let that happen to your daughter in law. And this is exactly why victims should try to get out of their victimhood. 

And the first step to not being a victim of domestic violence or marital disrespect is to be financially self sufficient. You don't have to earn a fat pay cheque every month. But women who step out of the house to earn a livelihood are not just doing that -- they are also earning respect. And it is much better to rebel against idiots when you have your own money in the bank account. 

Another reason why women put up with this is the fear of being a divorced woman in a society full of big noses. But like our neighbor who left as soon as the wife beater opened the door, the society seldom does anything to stop your suffering. And when you start looking after yourself, you just need a few trusted friends to start over again. 

XX or XY?

I have been reading Rujuta Divekar's "Women & The Weightloss Tamasha". I expected this book to enlighten me about a well balanced diet to get back in shape after pregnancy. But it turns out, that it enlightens you more about the being a woman in the Indian society. For the record, only the crème de la crème of the Indian society are in a position to afford a nutrition consultant such as Rujuta or "RD" -- as she's lovingly referred to by her following. So I was expecting her clientele to include all the non-famous Sonam Kapoors or Kareena Kapoors of the nation. I was surprised when I read about the kind of lifestyles all these rich women lead. Feeling guilty about preparing a food item specially for oneself, taking all the "cow" jokes cracked by their husbands in a lighter vein but feeling utterly defeated inside, giving up work to be a stay at home mom and then feeling worthless because of the choice, being okay with the male members of the family not contributing anything to the housework, and numerous other similar last century habits. It was saddening to find out that this still is pretty much the norm in India, even in the rich classes where women can easily afford professional domestic help. And it was a relief to realise that I am miles away from any of these impositions. 

Being pregnant also brought forth insights into the society into which I was going to let my unborn baby mingle. The news itself was received by praising my choice of "not delaying it too much", implying that we are a society that looks down on women who delay motherhood or do not want it. Then, as months progressed, everyone including strangers in the supermarket queue took a shot at predicting the gender of the baby. Some well meaning aunties advised me to eat certain foods to "get a boy". It didn't matter that I was already in my fifth month then, and the gender of the baby was decided! 

Every time I would lie down for a sonography, I would stare into a mandatory legal declaration in the consultant's office. It screamed in a bold font that sex determination is a punishable crime. The offenders could get up to three years in jail along with a Rs. 50,000 fine. It was always a comforting sight. I had even saved the toll free number given alongside so that I could report people who were surreptitiously trying to do it. 

Every time I touched an old lady's feet out of respect they would bless me and say out loud that I may produce a son. I always retorted, "Take that back! I want a daughter". I am the only daughter of an only daughter. I wanted to continue that desperately. I guess it was partly because I wanted to relive my own childhood and partly because I am a crazy feminist. I absolutely, from the core of my being hate being treated second to men. And I hate men who condone this kind of behaviour. And more than anything else in the world I have a big problem with women who consider producing sons their boarding pass to the flight to heaven. It is a sad fact that women are just as guilty of perpetrating this crime as men are. If men treat women as second class family members, women treat other women, especially the women married to their sons, as second class family members as well. 

And you don't have to go to the extreme of sex determination to see this attitude. Little gestures go a long way in showing you that you are not equal to your husband, even if he himself honestly thinks you're more than equal! If you come home from work and start cooking, it's no big deal; but God forbid if you sit down with your computer and the husband cooks, all hell breaks loose! You're expected to stay home way past the time you take for nursing because "the baby needs mom". But nobody has ever even thought of leaving that job to dad. I think a child would equally benefit from having a relaxed dad at home who would indulge him/her when the crazy disciplining mom is out to work. Bedtime stories would be so much sweeter in baba's voice than they are in aai's voice! And wouldn't it be a great Facebook cover photo where the mom is seen cooking and the son and father are helping her chop vegetables? Or better still the mom is seen working on her laptop as her babies bring her coffee? 

I was never very sentimental about these milestones. But somewhere I expected that motherhood would make me at least a little bit of those gooey-emotional-mommy types. But the only emotion I felt strongly all through my pregnancy was an urge to win this battle by having a girl! But I lost. And how! Even in my spinal anaesthetic high in the OT, I heard someone say that it is better to have a boy first. Then you can decide calmly if you want another child. If I wasn't so numb, happy and high at that point, I would have given that man a black eye. 

I can't not like my little guy just because I wanted a girl. Ultimately, girl or boy, mommy always loves them to bits. But now I realise that life has given me a tougher challenge than just raising a girl without this social bias. It has given me the challenge of raising a guy who would treat the women in his life with utmost love, respect and fairness. To teach him that no matter what old ladies say to your mom about having you, life would have been just as easy and happy had you been born as a girl. You would still get that extra piece of cake, and you'd still be dragged into bed at 9, whether you wanted it or not! 

Just like marriage, motherhood is also a personal choice. And yes, it is a choice. You are free to choose not to have a child. And I think our society also needs to learn how to respect that choice. However magical and fulfilling it is for you, it is still a universal phenomenon. Of all the sons born with "the blessing of the almighty" very few really turn out to be as ideal as Lord Ram -- the epitome of an ideal son. But we still see a lot of Seetas finding solace by giving up into the arms of Mother Earth, because they are not trusted by this world! 

Lessons in Courage

The announcement of this year's Nobel Peace prize brought two thoughts into my mind.

The first thought, came after a feeling of deep shame. I knew Malala and her story very well. But I actually had to Google the Indian citizen she shared her Nobel Peace Prize with. Malala, as we know her, was born because of social media; and today, social media is a bigger reality than everything else. There is very little human interaction these days, even in protests and social revolutions. Just add a hashtag and you're done. You are a part of the protest just by hashtagging words on your Twitter account. We have seen many such movements. Whether it is #bringbackourgirls, or back home, the intense #iamanna movement which quickly degenerated into a political party without roots. The over exposure to social media and hashtag activism has led us all to kind of 'swallow the proverbial red pill'. Our minds have a separate existence in our online worlds. But how much of that turns into action is a million dollar question. This brings me back to my original thought. Although both Malala and Satyarthi are symbols of fearlessness and courage, I think Kailash Satyarthi's low profile activism, which went on for over three decades, with the help of organized teams, deserves a bigger applause. In his interviews, he mentions how he and many of his staff got beaten up on several occasions trying to rescue children trapped in bonded labor. Over the years, Satyarthi and his team have not just taken a moral stand, but also built systems to keep it sustainable in a real life scenario. 

The second thought, was about courage. Satyarthi's Nobel acceptance speech included a fable. The story of a little sparrow who is flying back into a raging forest fire. A lion, trying to escape the fire asks her how on earth can she do anything about it. She replies that she is just doing 'her bit'. This is a wonderful story. But it never comes to life the way it does in stories. Kailash Satyarthi gave up his job as a lecturer to start the Bachpan Bachao Andolan, much to his mother's disappointment. I think, this step required a lot more courage than any subsequent thrashings he may have received at the hands of greedy factory owners engaging in child slavery. The choice to give up a life of certainty/comfort/material pleasures for a life which may or may not lead to security and prosperity requires tremendous courage. This is the point where all of us fail. All of us -- especially the youth raised with an Indian middle class upbringing -- are constantly guided (lectured, forced, threatened, manipulated) into believing that our end goal in life is to stay out of trouble. And by trouble we mean conflict of any kind. We will be encouraged to do our best, grab the best schools around the world, get the most lucrative jobs we can lay our hands on, marry and have kids at the "right time". But we would never get lessons in courage. When it comes to standing up against injustice at home, in a workplace, in our social lives, we are always advised to stay out of trouble.

This is also the culture behind the practice of  aborting female fetuses in middle class and upper middle class families. They have the money and the power of  hushing up everything. I am sure if every middle class daughter made up her mind about walking out of a marriage that demands sex selective abortions, this problem would be weakened. But divorce is trouble. It involves being "answerable" the society, which never comes back to check on you again once you are off the shelf! This is also the culture behind institutional corruption. We are always ready to take candle-lit marches to Jantar Mantar against corruption. But when it happens right under our nose in the work place, we never act as the whistle blower. Because standing up against powerful people is considered getting into trouble. We will never have the courage to be an Edward Snowden. At best, we would get inspired by the actions of people like Snowden and Satyarthi, dilute it about a thousand times and end up feeling good about ourselves for doing all that thinking. 

So there is very little hope for 'doing our bit'. For every million scared middle class human beings like us, there will be one Satyarthi. And I think that is somehow enough to make this world a better place. Unless we are taught growing up, that it is completely okay to fail, that we are not in a perpetual competition with everyone around us, that we need to build milestones inwards as well as outwards as we go through life, that taking a leap may lead to something far better than we imagine, that new roads are discovered by people who are willing to risk something, that there is immense happiness in satisfying your inner voice, until that time, we will just be a group of robots living replicate lives.