This was written on July 6th. The past week had been dominated by unabashed feminism. Images of Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg’s visit to India, Pepsico CEO Indra Nooyi declaring that women cannot have it all and Dame Wendy Hall crowned as the most influential woman of UK IT was all over the print as well as the digital media. And no one seemed to complain. So I thought a bit of introspection may be in order.
To begin with, let me admit I wanted to have it all, a bit more perhaps than many and everything seemed to go as per design. A career as a member of the faculty at IIT Delhi, a house well-spruced with tit-bits acquired from all over the world, a dramatics group to entertain my life-long passion in dramatics, weekend parties with co-actors - who also doubled up as willing guinea-pigs for my culinary experiments as well as baby-sitters for my son while I attended conferences and above all a spouse who was an equal partner in all the above activities barring the culinary ventures. Parents pitched in whenever necessary. And of-course India being the land of surplus labor, life was a breeze.
However, age does not stand still. As I grew older so did others around me. Students graduated. A cute little baby grew into an argumentative teen-ager. Husband succeeded and continued to climb the proverbial ladder. Parents aged. Household extended. And to accommodate all, I was soon running a household with more than double the number of helping hands as the number of members. I changed my job. I could now afford to hire a battalion of helping hands just to ensure that my life remains a perfect symphony, both professional and personal synchronized and in harmony. I wanted to be an achiever. I became the bandmaster of my home orchestra. I gave detailed instructions for the orchestra before I left house every morning. The breakfast was on the table, the cooking instructions written in labored Hindi hung on a cloth black-board behind the kitchen door, details of what to serve to whom during lunch repeated multiple times before I stepped into the car with my cup of coffee. And then, with the house virtually on seize while I am away, the inevitable happened. A series of unsolved mysteries waited for me each day. Who broke the Japanese vase? How come the new sofa is torn? Why is the school-dress not pressed? If I sincerely wanted to know the truth behind each of these, I would have to additionally hire Hercule Poirot. But that would be of little use, since I could not really afford to charge any of them of any misdeed and antagonize the said person. The next replacement would be no better. I gave up. I rather concentrated on the daily report - “no oil to cook tomorrow, rice may or may not last for two more days, the milk-man had not come today, the doctor has prescribed a new medicine for mother-in-law, a gift is needed for Divya’s birthday tomorrow, …”. And much like the Pepsico CEO, I would dash out to the nearest market, just so that the music doesn’t die from my life! The only difference being that, since I was not a CXO and never hope to be one, I do not have a secretary at work who would check whether my son had completed his home-work before he went out to play, which in turn would inevitably mean that around 10 pm when I insisted that the school-bag be packed for the next day, there would be work to do.
“Ridiculous”, pointed out my friend! “You have to be a Ginnima, like the old zamindari families, in order to run such a house-hold smoothly! Since you hardly fit the description, this is bound to fail.” “Hire a hotel-management graduate”, advised a brother-in-law. A sister-in-law, who stays abroad came to visit once and gave up the idea of returning to the country. “Impossible”, she said. “I can’t imagine myself running such a battalion!” "Symphony turned to Cacophony - tch tch!", commented a well-wisher!
And what happened to the accommodating spouse? Well, somewhere down the line, this became my household. The maids are mine, the nurses are mine, the kitchen is mine, the menu is mine, the grocery is mine, the garden is mine - I am the queen of all I survey! A queen who is asphyxiated and wants to break free from all the earthly possessions!
As the new academic year is about to begin, I have been requested to address a batch of fresh entrants about time-management, work-life balance, women in Engineering and so on. I am wondering where to begin. Should I say “Girls, don’t try to have it all - leave something for the boys! Boys, don’t let the girls take over and then happily crib that you are an outsider in your own home! It’s not going to work for long! Agree to meet your partner half-way. If that does not work - just quit!”
I wish it was as simple as that! Life is not about quitting. Sometimes life can be about endless endurance, and still dreaming about the rainbow that would stretch from horizon to horizon when the thunderous clouds are blown away.
To begin with, let me admit I wanted to have it all, a bit more perhaps than many and everything seemed to go as per design. A career as a member of the faculty at IIT Delhi, a house well-spruced with tit-bits acquired from all over the world, a dramatics group to entertain my life-long passion in dramatics, weekend parties with co-actors - who also doubled up as willing guinea-pigs for my culinary experiments as well as baby-sitters for my son while I attended conferences and above all a spouse who was an equal partner in all the above activities barring the culinary ventures. Parents pitched in whenever necessary. And of-course India being the land of surplus labor, life was a breeze.
However, age does not stand still. As I grew older so did others around me. Students graduated. A cute little baby grew into an argumentative teen-ager. Husband succeeded and continued to climb the proverbial ladder. Parents aged. Household extended. And to accommodate all, I was soon running a household with more than double the number of helping hands as the number of members. I changed my job. I could now afford to hire a battalion of helping hands just to ensure that my life remains a perfect symphony, both professional and personal synchronized and in harmony. I wanted to be an achiever. I became the bandmaster of my home orchestra. I gave detailed instructions for the orchestra before I left house every morning. The breakfast was on the table, the cooking instructions written in labored Hindi hung on a cloth black-board behind the kitchen door, details of what to serve to whom during lunch repeated multiple times before I stepped into the car with my cup of coffee. And then, with the house virtually on seize while I am away, the inevitable happened. A series of unsolved mysteries waited for me each day. Who broke the Japanese vase? How come the new sofa is torn? Why is the school-dress not pressed? If I sincerely wanted to know the truth behind each of these, I would have to additionally hire Hercule Poirot. But that would be of little use, since I could not really afford to charge any of them of any misdeed and antagonize the said person. The next replacement would be no better. I gave up. I rather concentrated on the daily report - “no oil to cook tomorrow, rice may or may not last for two more days, the milk-man had not come today, the doctor has prescribed a new medicine for mother-in-law, a gift is needed for Divya’s birthday tomorrow, …”. And much like the Pepsico CEO, I would dash out to the nearest market, just so that the music doesn’t die from my life! The only difference being that, since I was not a CXO and never hope to be one, I do not have a secretary at work who would check whether my son had completed his home-work before he went out to play, which in turn would inevitably mean that around 10 pm when I insisted that the school-bag be packed for the next day, there would be work to do.
“Ridiculous”, pointed out my friend! “You have to be a Ginnima, like the old zamindari families, in order to run such a house-hold smoothly! Since you hardly fit the description, this is bound to fail.” “Hire a hotel-management graduate”, advised a brother-in-law. A sister-in-law, who stays abroad came to visit once and gave up the idea of returning to the country. “Impossible”, she said. “I can’t imagine myself running such a battalion!” "Symphony turned to Cacophony - tch tch!", commented a well-wisher!
And what happened to the accommodating spouse? Well, somewhere down the line, this became my household. The maids are mine, the nurses are mine, the kitchen is mine, the menu is mine, the grocery is mine, the garden is mine - I am the queen of all I survey! A queen who is asphyxiated and wants to break free from all the earthly possessions!
As the new academic year is about to begin, I have been requested to address a batch of fresh entrants about time-management, work-life balance, women in Engineering and so on. I am wondering where to begin. Should I say “Girls, don’t try to have it all - leave something for the boys! Boys, don’t let the girls take over and then happily crib that you are an outsider in your own home! It’s not going to work for long! Agree to meet your partner half-way. If that does not work - just quit!”
I wish it was as simple as that! Life is not about quitting. Sometimes life can be about endless endurance, and still dreaming about the rainbow that would stretch from horizon to horizon when the thunderous clouds are blown away.
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