Pretty Woman

This is not a repertoire of the 1990’s  romcom, by the same name. Nor is it an attempt  to spark off a debate on the plethora of products adorning the racks of our body-care boutiques, from face to body, hair, skin, nails et al, to pump up the glamour quotient. After all beauty, they say…is only skin deep! And is that all that evinces our interest in our womenfolk? Certainly not. Let’s shift our focus then,  to some startling statistics about women:

·         In both developed and developing countries, women work 35 hours more than men every week (1996).

·         There is no country in the world where women's wages are equal to those of men (2000) .

·         In world politics, only 13% are women

·         In the corporate sector, the no. of women on top is about 16%, and the nos. are not moving in the ascending direction since 2002.

·         In Silicon Valley, for every 100 shares of stock options owned by a man, only one share is owned by a woman (1995).

But today’s not Women’s Day! Then why this pugnacious attempt on awakening towards feminist intellection. The facts, figures and numbers will keep changing with years, and not necessarily in the order of our preference, as reports and trends indicate, as we  phlegmatically find avenues to occupy ourselves, given our penchant for routine above rational thinking towards societal causes, and I am no different.

There are a myriad of stray thoughts, nagging me on my current status as a stay at home, working mother…well, whose ever heard of a non-working mother anyway? Mothers by default are working, in their homes for sure in all cases without exception, and outside of homes in some cases. I quit a full time, well paying corporate job, to be a caretaker for my children few years ago. Since then I have been working full time at home, and flexitime as a freelance HR consultant. All my friends who are mothers too, are faced with this perpetual quandary….to work outside of home or not? The grass always seems greener on the other side, as we women go amok engaging in sardonic discussions, inadvertently ending in self prosecution. And hence this salient subject that has quelled most of our womenfolk, as I prepare to give vent from the deepest recesses.

 Most working mothers I know, feel guilty to step out to the workplace, because this is inferred as a direct trade off from time spent with the family. Surprisingly, none of the men folk harbour any related thoughts or feelings. And our media and TV commercials do nothing to salvage the situation, only add to the grievance, when they portray a moping girl child coaxing her nani (maternal grand mom) over a phone call, to come to her rescue, to assuage her long tresses as the office going mamma has no time for the same, and the mamma overhearing the lament, left feeling remorseful and extremely inept . A working mother is always treading on a razor’s edge, striving to strike that fine balance between childcare and official commitments. She makes every effort to fit in her kids soccer classes, music classes, doctor’s appointments, play dates etc while juggling her official emails/ phone calls, deliverables, deadlines etc, with élan. Her predilections towards the home and the kids stimulates her multitasking ability as she focuses on the homework, projects, and assignments with an eye towards fixing the dinner, all at once. These attributes well captured in a phrase describing current genre of mothers as ‘helicopter moms’, hovering around the kids to meet their smallest of daily needs, in an article read recently. This ubiquitous dextrity has made her the self proclaimed queen of her haven and has thereby kept the man of the house bereft from opportunities to demonstrate his proficiency in the field. Let me project a few facts once again, collated from different sources, for clarity:

• Working mothers still perform most of the household chores.
• Working mothers work more hours (paid and unpaid) than working fathers.
• Mothers who work part-time have the longest working hours of all.
• Even when both parents are working, the responsibility of care for sick children usually falls on the mother.

The facts have not been mustered overnite, yet they are an honest projection of women, reprising her role as the only sane option for panacea, for the family and kids, leaving her depleted of her physical and emotional reserves. Who is responsible for this systemic evolution of mindsets amongst our male and female species? Why are womenfolk perennially engaging in rueful attempts to be masterful in her deliverables, poised ambiguously amongst the interstitial spaces of family and office work? As we ask these poignant questions, there are fingers pointing at us, women, as much as we’d like to stay oblivious to the revelations, looming large at our grimacing faces.

Euphemism, it is, as we agree to the banal truth, that ‘patriarch’ is legacy and we women need to accept recriminations for being ambassadors for promulgating this practice. We could have the best of education and credentials, yet in marriage, we always settle for a spouse doing better- higher education, better credentials that come with a better job. Women have the nonchalance, never to take their job/ careers seriously, considering them impediments in pursuit of a blissful family life. Women typically work for the ‘added’ income in the family- that which allows access to the extravagant lifestyle- the malls, the shopping, the kitsch fine dining eateries, the holiday abroad etc etc. The onus of being breadwinner still rests on the tender shoulders of our menfolk, much to their dislike, perhaps, just like women are expected to take a step back (in the career context), as soon as the stork comes visiting. This is perhaps one of the key notions, that has been influencing women to procrastinate marriage, and motherhood, giving birth to a host of fertility related complications.

The rules of the game are changing for the better, and we have witnessed one such exemplification in a highly qualified and deserving Marissa Meyer being appointed CEO Of Yahoo Inc, 5 months into her pregnancy. Are employers sitting up with alacrity to take note? Is there  a need felt, to enhance avenues at work, for optimally utilising the untapped potential of our womenfolk, that has been waning into obscurity so far? How can they create work conditions conducive to the demands faced by a mother, or is it simply convenient to remain taciturn? There can be crèches, options to work flexitime or from home, so that every woman is able to unleash her latent potential in the interest of serving the firm, while also bequeathing her maternal responsibilities in undiluted proportions. There is a patent obligation, that we create a progressive environment, where every woman can pursue her career and motherhood simultaneously, sans scepticism that both are mutually exclusive.

Well, these are just a few indicators of creating a work environment commensurate with multitude of needs faced by an office going mother. Doesn’t guarantee a smooth journey through motherhood, because there are no rules to this game, no qualifiers….there is no right or wrong here….no black or white…but only varying shades of grey. There is no right mantra, to make you the impeccable ‘mom’, but a game of trial and errors. The idea is to survive all odds, amongst the incessant shifting of tectonic plates called life. A friend of mine, after a long hiatus of staying away, was on a compulsive job search, because she wanted to inspire her daughter, who was a recluse and withdrawing. She wanted to instill the awakening in her daughter, that in this era of fragile relationships, the need to be self dependent is no- more a choice, but a dire necessity. On the other hand, there was another office going mom, whose daughter, when probed about her career plans, stated with brusque intonation, that she aspired to be a stay-at-home mom, being around with her children, as that was something she found lacking in her life. So the rules are divergent for all, ‘change’ and ‘adaptability’ being the only constants.

So girls, celebrate Women’s Day, each day of your life, standing firmly by the choices and decisions, undeterred and unperturbed by what others think, say or do, indefatigable as you cherish life, in it’s all it’s psychedelic hues, through ups and downs, leading it on your terms with conviction!

City City….BANG BanG

A city of a million dreams, a city of opportunities, Gurgaon is the place to be in….or so you think! Reality for few and aspirational for a many. In fact with the global economy taking a downturn, and showing bleak signs of recovery, there has been a substantial influx of NRI population returning to the country to make Gurgaon their new home. But how blissful is this new home, one wonders?

The city for one, exposes a stark dearth of planning. There are pockets of colonies created by a few of the Real Estate giants, with residential areas and office interspersed together, one overlooking into another. The narrow lanes and by-lanes somehow find creation in pockets of spaces amongst the high rises, mistakenly left unutilised. To believe that a designated parking lot would be created to accommodate the city’s ever increasing number of cars, is a blitzkrieg of the naïve minds.

The roads of the millennium city have been crying for attention, and so are the travellers. The dilapidated roads strewn with potholes never miss a coquettish assurance of a bumpy ride, that can pose competition to any of the joy rides at the ‘Funcity’.  The roads are laid down, and then dug up on various pretexts, sometimes it’s cable wires, sometimes the storm drains and a plethora of other reasons, and then they remain battered and crumbling for ever, leaving a certain pregnant woman to pop it as she braves a ride on these roads. Just a few hours of rain can get the city to a grinding halt, with huge traffic snarls earning the ire of many a traveller. What’s ironical is that the malls are getting kitshchier, the pubs glitzier, the restaurants ostentatious, the people flashy, yet the minute you step onto the roads, they are shrouded in darkness, throwing open avenues to demons of peril, to tell sordid tales of debauchery and heinous crimes perpetrating the city!

And while we talk about the crumbling infrastructure disdainful in it’s attempt to keep pace with the development, the failing law and order, the sullied politicians raking in moolah at the publics expense, the complete lack of public transport et al, we are conveniently oblivious of, or feign to be so, of the many responsibilities apportioned to us. The city’s traffic light, are to be adhered to only when there is a cop visible at the intersection, else it is at the mercy of free will. The drivers, with their libido shooting through the roof, demonstrate a brazen disregard for those waiting patiently in a queue at a stop signal and this act of pervasive disquietude is demonstrated by people across different strata, class, race or sex. We are constantly unleashing a verbal diarrhoea of profanities and offensive gestures, on a languorous co- traveller on the roads, for their moronic acts, as our kids watch on the theatricals with their intrigued looks seeking renditions for our piquant mannerisms. We honk at the old man, as he scampers across, defying his age and ailments, to cross the road. We honk at a nervous learner for his slackened pace. We exhibit amazing alacrity and honk even louder to avoid the impetuous auto or cyclist making headway from any surreptitious corner. But what makes many a heart bleed is when a certain derelict driver, to accomplish his mean thrills of speed, does mow down frugal lives, thus to ruin families and shatter many hopes and dreams, and then stay remorseless in vindicating his act, as it is sacrilege to slow down!

And then is the turn to touch upon the ubiquitous topic garnering the highest GRP (gossip rating point) in the urban milieu- the ‘Domestic Helps’. There sure is an ever growing strain in the relationship between the employer and the helps, fraught with distrust under the garb of class hostility, as there is also a proliferating need to co-exist. We seat ourselves in the coveted chairs, deciding remuneration for these helps, that which will dictate their living conditions, turning a blind eye to the abysmal socio- economic conditions they are constantly battling, with horrifying and gory realities, for fear of having to relinquish luxuries of cheap labour. How often have we witnessed ( and been apathetic to)  a dusky teenager, cradling an infant/ toddler, in the dim precincts of a posh eatery, as the family feasts on a hearty meal? Does the news of a help held hostage in a home with depleting resources for survival, flashed all over newspaper and visual media, touch a certain chord?

And while we are at it, we also need to take responsibility for water and electricity conservation. A good lot of us reside in condominiums with 24-hr power backup and therefore do not get exposed to the reality staring into our eyes, of the lowering water table. The fact is if it does not impact us in our daily lives, we really do not spare a thought towards conservation. Just a day as Earth Day might not be enough to salvage the situation- it is imperative to make ‘conservation’ and ‘recycling’ an inherent part of our lifestyle.

But all is not a miss as the intonation of this despondent banter suggests, as the banality of the adage hints at a silver lining in the darkest cloud. There are sects of civilians forming cohorts to exchange and endorse ideas and experiences to give vent to their amateur indulgence for eg the cyclist group, walking group, laughing group, coffee friends, wine tasters group, bakers haven, mountaineers club etc etc. There is a repertoire of progressive, erudites who are inspiring in their demeanour to stir the people out of their slumber and cosy nests, and cause awakening to be a part of civil strife, for the betterment of society at large. There is no point grudging, chastising and playing the blame game to preposterous claims, if we are incapable of taking charge of our lives’ interests. A string of bonhomie anchors the populace together, to project a unified force, to vanquish all odds, to wage mutinies for one’s subdued rights, to express solidarity to a certain cause, and placate it’s way to a discerning resolution.

That’s the many shades of my city- Gurgaon. Afterall, the good, bad and ugly will exist in equal measure, lending an experience-‘bittersweet’ !!