Tell me something honestly. Don't you miss those summer vacations in your school days, when you got a chance to visit the grandparent's house? All the cousins coming together from different cities, away from parental supervision, enjoyed the affectionate attention of elated grandparents, didn't you?
In my case, it couldn't have been more opposite. In summers, my brother and I used to return to our parents in my village, as I spent all my schooling years at my Nana-Nani's house (maternal grandparents) in Alwar city nearby. These two have been the biggest influence over my upbringing and shaped up my belief system. Both couldn't have been farther in nature too.
Nanaji has been a disciplinarian through and through. He used to wake up at 5 am without fail, went for a 10 kilometer walk, meditated for an hour, and shaved daily for even years after his retirement from telecom department. In fact, I developed this love for reading newspaper with Punjab Kesari, imitating his morning routine. There has always been an aura of calmness around him. One will nearly always find him smiling and spreading this smile ahead.
Of course, Nanaji's otherwise mild manners occasionally turned into a tirade when his strict schedules were disrupted. Whenever his precise timing for bath, lunch, or tea was delayed. And Nani ji was at the receiving end of it then. You see, it's my Nani who has always taken care of it thanklessly, or at least till her 80+ age allowed it. It is my Nani who so often cribbed, cried, created melodrama for amusement of us all, and still does it albeit in a bedridden condition. Her body may be weak, but her spirit has not dampened a bit. Even now a tireless chatterbox, she just can't keep her mouth shut for her own good, she just can't. Perhaps that's where I have picked up from too. Nanaji could afford to be the ice because of this fire spirit by his side.
Such innocently loudmouth she is, that my brother and I dreaded her accompanying us to school. Her extrovert persona isn't limited just to our extended family, but the entire neighborhood is fond of her. When bored, she just sits outside on stairs and strikes a conversation with almost anybody. They call her "dhaba wali amma". Yes, her father used to run a dhaba (eatery) before independence. Now you know how tasty my childhood must have been. My aunts, mother and wife can try as much as they want, they will never come even closer to my Nani's culinary skills. In fact, whenever I come home to visit her, she would get into kitchen with my cousin's help to cook my favorite besan dishes, against everyone's sane advice. She just can't help it. She is my mother's mother after all, so double the affection.
But her love isn't limited to just cooking, she is fond of eating too. So much so that, my cousins mischievously put a notice board outside the house in shraddh season reading- "Amma ji doesn't keep well these days. Please don't entice her with offer of jeemana (a feast)." And I haven't even started about her peculiar habit of 50-100-500 cash collection inside small plastic boxes or in between the sarees all inside her tiny store room. In that tiny room, one may feel like Bilbo Baggins standing inside an old dragon's lair of wealth. Post demonetization, my family was in for a shock with the amount of old notes they discovered in that 'raid'. Even she had forgotten how many such 'small amounts' she had accumulated in there to constitute a mini fortune.
At her ripe age of 85 today, my Nani is not just the matriarch of our family, but a role model of everyone who knows her. An entrepreneurial housewife, an affectionate motherly figure, a protector of her partner's eccentric discipline - she has donned all these hats. Certainly not without occasional complaints, or without making small fuss at times, and not with grace perhaps always. But has she done it for past 85 years? Oh yes, she has delivered consistently.
That's what the women around us all do, isn't it? They deliver in their respective roles. Every single day, Without any error. Frankly, there is hardly a margin of error in the roles they perform at a household. That's what we celebrate every 8th March, no? The expression of being a Superwomen. With gifts, chocolates, wishes and appreciation on this single day in a year.
Can we just pause for a moment and acknowledge that they are humans first? That they can be flawed too. That they do cry, crib, complaint, and rightfully so. Instead, we rather make fun of their peculiarities, mostly in form of wife jokes so often. Oh yes, I do it too and I try to share the audience response with my wife Neha sometimes when she is in good mood. To be honest, that makes a memorable moment in almost every training I conduct usually. But the point is, if these superwomen go about their roles consistently day after day, why do we stop at appreciating only one certain day in a year? Do we ever express our gratitude beyond this day as well or just take them for granted remaining 364 days? Do we try to make them feel good about themselves when they crib and cry and still put in those unpaid work hours for the sake of family?
Not here preaching anyone, but I believe small gestures in daily life go miles farther than a token celebration on just 8th March every year. It's plain pointless to do something symbolically just for a day if it doesn't change the psyche for the rest of the year. Rather we could help sometime actively in kitchen or cleaning or groceries etc. As simple as a cup of tea any random day when she is tired, may just rejuvenate her beyond belief.
And even if we don't celebrate or haven't done something special today either, fret not. Superwomen in our homes, like my Nani, will never cease to care for her family. Even now while bed ridden, she is perhaps worrying whether the tap water supply came today or not. That's her deepest obsession and our biggest irritation, truth be told.
Friends, if we truly mean to recognize these matriarchs and the superwomen around in our lives, let's do it with our daily life micro gestures, beyond whatever you may have done to please them today. That's where we make it meaningful.
Happy women's day. Everyday.
Beautiful story Anant. Reading your stories makes my heart feel good!