Hundred Happy Things: The power of love

Sorry for being late. You can blame it on the type of person that I am, procrastinator, lazy and laid back. 

Going through the karvachauth posts, seeing the merriment around and witnessing the excitement some of my colleagues and neighbours have shown, I felt lonelier than usual. It was not the depressing loneliness, just a little sad reminder. You have some bad days in a relationship. You just have them more frequently if you are in a long distance. Switching on the TV didn't help. This whole debate about whether Karvachauth is a celebration of love and faith or a pure antifeminist mission to suppress women gave me a headache. The male panellists seemed frustrated on lack of their respective wives' devotion to them, the females certainly were not fasting. The anchor was not particularly handsome either. No reasons to keep watching this mindless drama. 

Before you judge me, I am not anti karvachauth. I don't observe it myself, I wish I did. Plainly because the other fast I observe for the same reason is tougher and less romantic. Hartalika Teej requires me to stay hungry and thirsty for almost 24 hours and there are not many romantic rituals involved at the end of it. At the same time, I don't judge women who don't fast for the so called "longevity" of their spouses. To each, Her own.

 Blame it on the type of person that I am, distracted and unfocused. 

All this talk of fasting reminds me of my mother and a peculiar incident from her past. Without even realising, or giving her due credit for, I have inherited her madness. Double fold may be, as she calls it. She had ideas about how she wanted to raise her kids, wanted a daughter, had a logical approach and when my father gave her the freedom to do things on her own, she proved to be quite independent. Yes, madness it was in those times.

So when she conceived me, my parents wished for a daughter. They had selected a name based on the name of a protagonist of a novel she was reading at that time. Instead of being a coy, obedient girl the protagonist was a strong headed woman, the kind my parents wanted me to be. And their prayers were answered. I often joke about how this prayer was sure to be heard. Not many people prayed for a daughter in those days. They had no competition.

I was a much loved, much welcomed toddler when a fast, famous in north India, fell. It's called 'Jeetiya'. Mothers observe this fast for the ‘well being of their sons’. My mother's interpretation for the same was ‘well being of the children’. So she wished to fast for me. My grandmother was appalled. After all, I was a girl. It could have been a bad omen, what if my mother could not conceive a son after that? She strictly refused. My mother was adamant too. She declared that she would not fast for son either, in future. I don't think anyone took her seriously. So after few years, when my brother was born, mum was asked to fast for him. She smirked and refused (well, this is my imagination now. Can't imagine her smirking, being the good girl that she was.) Her logic was same. She loved all her kids the same. I do not know the kind of reaction she faced, because she never told me. She never used to tell me anything negative about anyone as long as I was impressionable. She had justified the stance of my grandmother too. But let's leave that story for some other day.

Does it matter if she fasted for my brother or not? Certainly not. He could not care less. Has it made a difference in my life? Most definitely. If she had fasted for me too, probably it would have had the same impact on me. The point was, she loved me as much as she loved my brother. She loved me enough to raise a voice. She loved me enough to make a statement that no one is allowed to treat me any different than a male child. By their actions, my parents proved this time and again.

 I have always had a feeling that I am special. I was loved, sought after and prayed for even when I was a foetus. So as a full grown human being, I deserve to take decisions, make choices and have a say. My parents loved me irrespective of my gender. In fact, I am pampered a little more by the virtue of being a girl.

 So you can understand how false and deceitful the words of those panelists sounded to my ears. These fasts and festivals in my culture have more to do with emotions. In stories like mine, in a different way than imagined. Let's leave it at that. 

Remember, To each, his own!