I know, I know, I shouldn't be here right now, blogging in the middle of a work day. But, I promise this is gonna take just 15 minutes and then, over and out!
Today is an official 'Day of Cribbing', a day--which, incidentally, comes by way too often for my liking--when I'm allowed to rant and rave, and generally put on a don't-even-think-of-striking-up-a-conversation kind-of face and be moody all day long. No, it isn't PMS; just one of those days when the maid has gone AWOL.
But I am not taking precious minutes off work to write an anti-maid rant. In my new, 'improved' avatar, I have already learnt to take such inevitabilities in my stride.
This is on another tangent altogether: I was running late to pick my daughter (her school bus drop-off point is about a half-km away from my apartment) and on the way, the usual thoughts popped into my head: 'Why is it that women always have to take the brunt of domestic emergencies? Shouldn't both parents have equal responsibilities?' and blah, blah, blah... a rather needy voice in my head kept going on and on. Mind you, I don't even have serious reason to complain; Abhi is more often than not ready to pitch in with Ditu-related details.
But my mind--unruly as usual--was off on its own sweet (sweet? nah!) track! And then it struck me: don't brace yourselves or anything-- nothing earth-shattering here...
Just realised that if God (or Nature, if you prefer) chose the woman to carry babies within her, there is definitely something special about her, right? Something more than special, I think, something that is both a wonderful blessing and an overwhelming responsibility. I don't need centuries-old conditioning or unwritten rules of society to tell me to always be there for my daughter, to nurture her, protect her, help her grow into a sensible and caring human being.
And by that same count, I believe God has put something extra, something mysterious by nature, in every woman: an impulse to love that bit more; that instinct to keep your child safe no matter what the circumstances; to keep giving a little bit of yourself even when you feel like you just can't, any more; the strength to love selflessly and then let the light of your life choose a path of her own, a path which in all probability leads away from you; and a kind of patience that beats definition.
And by that count, what does a little bit of extra duty matter?
Today is an official 'Day of Cribbing', a day--which, incidentally, comes by way too often for my liking--when I'm allowed to rant and rave, and generally put on a don't-even-think-of-striking-up-a-conversation kind-of face and be moody all day long. No, it isn't PMS; just one of those days when the maid has gone AWOL.
But I am not taking precious minutes off work to write an anti-maid rant. In my new, 'improved' avatar, I have already learnt to take such inevitabilities in my stride.
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| Pic courtesy: indyeahforever.wordpress.com |
This is on another tangent altogether: I was running late to pick my daughter (her school bus drop-off point is about a half-km away from my apartment) and on the way, the usual thoughts popped into my head: 'Why is it that women always have to take the brunt of domestic emergencies? Shouldn't both parents have equal responsibilities?' and blah, blah, blah... a rather needy voice in my head kept going on and on. Mind you, I don't even have serious reason to complain; Abhi is more often than not ready to pitch in with Ditu-related details.
But my mind--unruly as usual--was off on its own sweet (sweet? nah!) track! And then it struck me: don't brace yourselves or anything-- nothing earth-shattering here...
Just realised that if God (or Nature, if you prefer) chose the woman to carry babies within her, there is definitely something special about her, right? Something more than special, I think, something that is both a wonderful blessing and an overwhelming responsibility. I don't need centuries-old conditioning or unwritten rules of society to tell me to always be there for my daughter, to nurture her, protect her, help her grow into a sensible and caring human being.
And by that same count, I believe God has put something extra, something mysterious by nature, in every woman: an impulse to love that bit more; that instinct to keep your child safe no matter what the circumstances; to keep giving a little bit of yourself even when you feel like you just can't, any more; the strength to love selflessly and then let the light of your life choose a path of her own, a path which in all probability leads away from you; and a kind of patience that beats definition.
And by that count, what does a little bit of extra duty matter?
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