Worth Reading!! *Can We Have It All?* Can we have it all? this question haunts all of us, especially women. Women who experience myriad emotions while trying to balance life. Women who are sometimes blissful with joy over any compliment and sometimes drowning in guilt over a burnt recipe. Women are multi faceted; they possess the strength of steel to face the hurdles of life with grace, while sometimes they silently cry over an emotional movie, all by themselves. They are represented as fragile dolls behind glass showcases and also as Goddess Durga, the personification of valor. But no matter what they do, wherever they are, women are haunted by the question Can we have it all? This is a story of 3 women, who are pondering over this question from different perspectives. ----Dhanalakshmi---- It was yet another day for Dhanalakshmi. Age had taken its toll andshe stooped slightly as she walked. As she got up from her bed, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. She saw multiple strands of grey hair, numerous wrinkles, a withered frame and a frail structure. Her eyes moved to her hands, the numerous veins appeared like streams of water playing with each other. She wondered how the years had passed by. She was born on the auspicious day of Lakshmi Puja, hence her parents had named her Dhanalakshmi. Her birth had brought in good fortune to her family. Her father doted on her. She was among the five privileged girls in the neighborhood who went to school. She was happy throughout her childhood. She loved reading books. She read them eagerly. She loved singing too, mostly crooning melodies from gramophone records while she went to school. One day her father took her for a musical concert in the city. The experience left her bedazzled. She wanted to become a writer, a singer and after the musical concert, a violinist. Her life began to change as she became a teenager. Just like the recognition of the auspiciousness of her birth, there was another custom in her family. The increasing age of the girl-child was proportional to the in-auspiciousness of her advancing age. The search for a groom began for her. She cried and gently protested before her father, but one fine day, amidst pomp and show, the hands which were supposed to write books and play the violin were placed into the grooms hands. Those hands, over the years that followed, cooked, raised children,washed utensils and clothes, prayed and grew numerous visible wrinkles on them. She had a peaceful life throughout. Yet Dhanalakshmis heart had that one regret. She could never write a book or play the violin. Could she every have had it all? As this question entered her mind,she quickly started moving towards the kitchen to prepare the morning tea. The uncomfortable question always got postponed. ----Damyanti---- The alarm clock woke Damyanti. It was going to be a hectic day. Her husband had an important meeting, she had to visit her daughter, the house needed to be cleaned, her vegetable garden needed to be watered and to top it all, her maid was on leave. All these pointers made Damyanti dizzy. At 52, she was hoping for that one day when she would spend a day totally by herself, but that seemed like a distant dream. Damyantis mind was sharp as a knife. In fact she was a first bencher during her school days, systematically maintaining her notes, studying sincerely and above all being an all-rounder. Her love for academics brought about a desire to teach, to become a professor, nurturing the minds of her students. But during her Masters, she fell in love with her classmate. A person who went on to get a PhD himself. As Damyanti marveled over the life the two of them would share in academics, a rude shock awaited her. Soon after her wedding, her husband put forward a simple rule: either of them could pursue a career; the other one had to stay at home and look after broken pipes and running noses. Being in love, she chose to stay at home. And that was not a bad choice, she maintained, over the years. She had used her analytical mind in household activities like origami, developing the best projects for her children, creating their library at home, cooking great dishes with optimum gas usage. But sometimes, late at night, when the house was asleep, she quietly read the Thank you Sir cards which her husband regularly received. She wondered if she would have got these cards had she been a professor. Could I have it all? This question lingered often in her mind as she moved out of her room. ----Disha---- Dishas day has begun in the middle of the night. She has a number of action items in her to-do list. The next day, she has a customer presentation, submission of estimation for a proposal and above all, she has to make custard for her mother and grandmother who would be visiting her. Her work fills her day. It gives her a sense of purpose, a feeling that keeps her enthusiasm high; it gives her a sense of identity. The job pays her well too, but for her it is not about the money, it is about the independence of buying things for her loved ones that cheers them up. As a toddler, Disha had noticed her grandmother and mother, discussing the monthly budget, buying the best groceries but always silently letting go when they had to spend money on themselves. She felt empowered while gifting them goodies from time to time. That made her happy. Yet Disha could never cook a proper meal or clean the dishes well. Even if she did at times, it was half-hearted. Her heart was always filled with gratitude for her mother and grandmother who showered her with unconditional love. But considering her conference calls, meetings and extensive travels, sometimes she wondered if her child would be deprived of her love. She wondered if she could be a perfect wife, mother and homemaker. She wondered if she could have it all. She quickly glanced back at her laptop screen again. Optimizing time was her utmost priority. -----When The Three Met---- Mom and GrandMa, I am so glad that you came all the way to meet me, Disha exclaimed. For a change she had kept her phone on silent mode. Dhanalakshmi smiled sheepishly while Damyanti beamed with joy as the three of them sat having custard. I know the custard is not that good, Disha said, I tried my best, but somehow something went wrong. Dhanalakshmi slowly moved her hand over Dishas head and said, I have seen you give your best to whatever you have done till now, just like your Mom. In fact you both travelled on those roads which I did not know existed, as a woman, I feel proud of you both. Damyanti had silent tears trickling down her cheeks. Amma, since childhood, I always admired your completeness as a woman. Whether it was cooking for the entire family or silently admiring me as I sat to study, I learnt from you that in life, a womans grace lay in letting go. Thank you for being our guardian angel Dishas analytical mind became silent as she was swept in a current of deep emotions. Thank you both of you for making me realize my self-worth, for giving me the freedom to be my best self and above all for teaching me what it takes to be a complete woman Then there were tears and smiles and secret gifts. A diary for Dhanalakshmi where she could write her heart out. A brochure from an NGO for Damyanti to volunteer for teaching the slum children. Disha had a gift too: a list of 1000 recipes from Masterchef. Dhanalakshmi finally said, We may wonder whether our lives are complete, but true happiness lies in actually making the most of what we have. That is what most happy women think and do.And then there were smiles over the profound realization the three of them had over custard.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Dec 2014 15:51:32 +0000