Skip to main content

No country for us



I can be anything. No. No one ever said this to me. I understood. I was a girl. I couldn’t be anything I wanted to be. I knew that because I have been vehemently practical. I knew my limitations yet let my expectations run wild. I grew up with many siblings. My brothers drove cars when they reached grade 8 and when I turned 14, I demanded that my father taught me how to drive too. My father happily obliged. I was obviously excited to be behind the wheels, when I steered and hit the gas I knew there wouldn’t be any boundaries for me. Little did I know being practical and driving a car didn’t mean life’s road will be rosier. 

Past the next generation. I have a baby girl. She is going to embark on a new journey come August and I couldn’t be more excited. She is graduating to grade 1. More so often we converse like any mother and daughter duo would. I am usually either yelling at her or showering her with love.
I tell her constantly she can be anything she wants to be. I refrain from making statements like, ‘you are a girl, so sit properly’ or ‘you can’t do it because you are a girl’. Yes, physically she is different from the boys but should her physical build hinder her from wanting to become who she wants to be? 

She often asks me, “Momma what do you want me to be when I grow up?” I am speechless, to be honest. My first thought is, what do I tell her that would satisfy her. Secondly, I wonder if I should tell her what I want her to be. Thirdly, should I tell her anything at all? Well, I don’t know what I want her to become because for god’s sake she hasn’t even started grade 1. Then I worry. What does ‘anything’ mean to her? Should I be specific? What if she feels the pressure to become ‘something’ that I mention casually just to avoid her probing further. 

How do I make sense of being a girl, a woman, a mother and not being able to define what that ‘anything’ is to my 5 year old. The insecurities thrown at us right from our parental house to our husband’s house and then by the state is overwhelming. The financial insecurities coupled with zillion other social insecurities deeply worry me. Being practical isn’t enough – not now. So how do I go about securing my daughter’s insecurities and her future?  

A sensible country has laws and policies that protect their citizens’ rights. And here I am, citizen of an insensible country that is hell bent on taking away my biological rights – in the path to take away my right to be a mother and an equal citizen. When I say you can do whatever the boys can, am I not lying to my little daughter whose right to be an equal citizen is being violated en masse with wide consultations as we speak? So where do I start mending the insecurities for my daughter. Will I ever be able to define that ‘anything’ to her?


Comments

  1. Shradha Giri, you always amuse me with your writing and thoughts! It is a sad story, but lets keep our hopes high! Time's changing and it has to change.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A letter to my future teenage daughter

My dear daughter, you are only seven today but you will soon be seventeen. And when you become 17 I know the world will no longer be the same for you and I. We will be together in the same house but we will be distant apart in our heart and head. I was once 17 you know. And like everything else nothing is constant so before you grow up too fast I am writing a letter to you and the million other 17 year olds just like you. Love life - you are going to fall in love - hard. So hard that you are often dizzy with love. A love that is insignificant but withholds you from achieving all your dreams. Dreams that you dreamt when you were barely ten. Dreams that your parents dreamt for you when they first held you in their warm loving arms. Dreams that your mother dreamt for you when you were just a tadpole in her growing tummy. You are 17 and you have just graduated high school. At the verge of becoming an adult. You think you are big enough to make decisions and that you know the best f...

Dreams pursued

My precious Photo: Shradha Giri Last night my nine-year-old and I held hands and cried. We then laughed and then cried again. This isn’t something we normally do – our daughter, our precious one who was quiet for a change sat still, listened to what I had to say. The thing is, I have decided to change my career at this age and it is creating a ruckus which I didn’t think of earlier. I guess no one thinks through until the day one starts working on the decision. I decided a year and a half ago that I would invest in a school. Both my husband and I danced at the idea one idle weekend. We didn’t think of the distance - 500km. A year and a half spent running to banks, local ward office and to tax departments, the deal was done. Just like that with considerable amount of loan on my shoulders, I became a part of the system where I have always wanted to make a difference. I spent the past two weeks in my new role and I was baffled by what I observed (I also spent a few nights c...

Oh boy! women bleed

Menstruation is a taboo. No one talks about it. Women do not openly purchase sanitary napkins. We pretend we don’t menstruate. We refrain from talking about our period at homes and at work places. I have always tried to reason with the stigma vis-à-vis the biological fact a female body goes through. Like how men have beards when they hit pubescent - girls bleed. What’s the big deal I repeat? Often, families and friends laud the teenage boys for sprouting one line moustache or a goatee. The boys are identified for being macho and finally a man. On the contrary, families hide their girls when they start their first period, ashamed when their bodies provide proof that the girl is perfectly healthy and normal. These young girls go on to believe that their bodies have betrayed them. They coax their bodies because suddenly it has made them impure. They can no longer mingle with the other sex openly; they must be mindful and often face exclusion from family functions. They are forced to a...