My favourite web series

It almost feels like writing an essay for a class 4^th assignment. But interestingly that is the feeling that drives me to write it- innocent and uncomplicated. The only irony is that when I was in class 4^th there weren’t any web-series and back then I felt writing on such topics was lame (also think- an essay on Cow)

But with 34 years of life getting on me with its tagalongs of bitterness, cut throat competitions, judgements and my struggles to overcome these and many more, I look for respite in simple things. Those things which I might have found lame during adolescence.

One of such things that I came across recently is a web-series by the name ‘Doc Martin’. It was sheer chance that I decided to begin with this series as I was fishing on Netflix disappointed to see that there was barely anything left for watching. Well, what attracted me the most was the name of the series starting with ‘Doc’. By virtue of working with so many doctors in my organization, I always have an interest in validating if all of them are the same? And this series intrigued me further to validate if even the on-screen ones are represented in the same way as I know them for real. Not to discount that ‘Health’ takes priority as you grow old and 34 counts well for that.

There was enough interest already given how much I related to the name, with fingers crossed that I don’t get compelled to switch off the Tv after few minutes of boredom, I started watching ‘Doc Martin’

The episode opens with a scene where there is this professional gentleman both in appearance and conduct called Doctor Martin totally fitting into my image of my last supervisor who always used to wear a suit no matter what season. Doctor Martin preferred to be called Doctor Ellingham (his last name) He is a no-nonsense medical professional and cant get over the anatomy and biology in a person even during utmost critical social situations. While he had been a top-class surgeon in London this story begins with his placement as a ‘General Practitioner’ for the village of Portwenn. His limited social skills are a matter of discussion in the selection committee as well but he is unanimously approved given that in terms of his expertise there is barely any match.

 Portwenn like any small place is beautiful both visually and in terms of the people who live there. The simplicity is striking: a typical village where everyone knows everyone: everyone likes to keep a record of what’s going on in other’s lives, there is a dedicated group of gossip girls whose meeting point is the road outside Doc Martin’s clinic, most of the service providers such as plumbers, electricians, restaurant owners are mediocre but still loved and treated as the best. When the clinic is under renovation before Doc Martin official started practice, the plumber turns the whole clinic into a flood zone and in response to the annoyed look of the doctor he responds ‘what the matter that you look disgusted.. all is well and under control’

The sense of solidarity in the village  is such that the clinic receptionist literally bullies Doc Martin by never reaching clinic on time & always taking on phone with her boyfriend but on being fired has the whole village on her side to create pressure on the doctor leaving him no choice but to get her back on the job. And why not, the wating area in the clinic is more of a hang out place with tea and biscuits for all courtesy Elaine (the receptionist). Infact, who goes to the clinic to see the doctor, the idea is to have a cup of tea and snacks and some chit-chat with people and after some socialization has happened, see the doctor. Going to the doctor and expecting a cup of tea is inherently normal  for the people of Portwenn but hell breaks when Doctor Martin refuses to engage in socialization and sticks to professionalism. He is lovingly and popularly labelled as ‘Tosser’ by one and all.

What I loved the most about the initial seasons is that the doctor is shown committing relatable assessment errors where how a wife’s excessive use of estrogen turns out to be the cause of the husband’s man breasts while he had assessed it otherwise. It also opens an awkward can of worms for the couple in the process and the couple indirectly blame the doctor for their relationship fiasco.

Well, there is a lot to say about Doc Martin but I want you to find out yourself. So, don’t delay & go watch – Doc Martin. It wont give you the thrills and the chills of GOT or Money Heist but what about some rustic, slow living experience for the mind that is always on the run.

On Way Back Home…

On 14 April 20 evening, the reluctant car owner of my house agreed to let me drive in the evening. I don’t undermine his concerns which were valid- 1) it wasn’t essential, so why to go out amidst lockdown and 2) I still don’t have a driver’s license – put together, it was enough to irk a disciplined Army man. But I pestered, who won’t need a change after day long of twiddling thumbs while looking at names against black background on screen also hearing unidentifiable voices during back- to -back online meetings on zoom and ECHO.

Eventually, I got the car keys, pressed an icon and the unlock sound squawked suddenly, shattering the lockdown silence in my society premises.

Left foot on the clutch and right trying to handle the break and accelerator, reverse gear, they say is the most difficult one for a beginner. Few meters back and then rolling the steering right in first gear, I paved my way through the most challenging window towards hitting the road, the boom-barrier, just before the main-gate. Its angle really confuses me and I thank God each time I successfully pass through it. Even though mundane, for me it was important to describe the process of hitting the road for two reasons- I wanted to show off my knowledge of driving (comes naturally to all beginners) and second- doing something that we are forbidden to do has its own charm. Moreover, when so many people are still being asked to go to offices while facing the same risk as anybody going out, then lets assume that I was also driving back from office.

I had driven hardly for few minutes and on a sliding road, we heard someone screaming from behind. They were two men holding an airbag with each of their hands on both sides and walking slowly against the weight of the bag. My husband asked me to stop once he heard the voice. Since the car was on a slope and in order to slow down, I switched on first gear, it stopped. I tried balancing the accelerator, clutch and gear but as soon as the right foot was lifted from the break to touch the accelerator, the car was sliding backwards. In the meanwhile, the two walking men had reached us.  Sense of Moral Policing awakened and for once I thought of lecturing them on how irresponsible they were that they were not staying at home to support the lockdown. However, before I could start, one of them said ‘sir, please Punjab jane ke rasta bataiye. Jo rasta mujhe pata hai wahan se Police nahi jane de rahi’ (sir, could you please help me with the direction from here to go to Punjab, the route that I know has been barred by Police’. And then he informed us that he is a cook in a restaurant in Gurgaon. During the lockdown like all others, the restaurant where he worked is closed. He was hoping that the lock-down will be lifted tomorrow (15 April) and managed for past so many days in whatever money he had saved. But since lockdown has been extended till 03 May, he is completely broke and has barely anything left to survive. All that he could think of was to go home- that’s the only though that comforts him and nothing else.

I was saddened when I heard this man. While I was working on COVID-19 specific and sensitive messages for Migrant population all day long and had heard about strategies to help them and read advisories for Migrant population, when I actually saw one narrating his story, I thought ‘does all that we were doing, addresses what he just described?’ Will you, I or anyone in his situation have the bandwidth to abide the rules of the lockdown when our bodies are battling hunger-pangs? Will we care to pay attention to maintain 1 meter distance when all we are longing for is a caring touch of a loved one? I don’t think so. We will perhaps do the same as this gentleman was doing, pick our bags and start walking aimlessly until we find a way back home. Nonetheless, we hesitantly offered him some money with the disclaimer that its not out of pity but for our own peace of mind. He hesitated but later accepted it reluctantly. He started walking again with one handle of the luggage in his hand and the other in his friend’s.

Meanwhile, successfully managing to pull the sliding car up on the slope, I applied first gear and slowly shifted to second and reached the main gate of our society. Accepted the boom-bar challenge, reached parking, reverse gear and then first. I parked, stopped and the lock sound of the car once again squawked, shattering the silence of my society that evening.

Getting back to the question of Bread and butter!

To all those who work and love their jobs and even those who pretend to do so, how would you like it if you are given a leave of 1 year with all the time in the world to do whatever you like to do?

Well, I am sure many of you would think that it would get boring after few days and that you would desperately miss your work, but trust me, nothing of these happened to me. I was enjoying my life to the hilt during my leave. I was dancing on the head of a sulking neighbour as her roof happened to be my floor. I was merrily driving my husband’s car while he kept his fingers crossed until I returned to his sight with his car in one piece and I was mastering a foreign language and rehearsing hard, enough to take the revenge of the last lost fight him. I was also enjoying this network of young people called toastmasters club of New Delhi, playing late night quizzes and was getting a hang of ‘Pysche’.   

One fine morning of March second week, I received a call from my boss asking about my well-being. I did the customary ‘All is well’ and his next sentence made me a wary woman. He asked if I can rejoin active duty 3 months before the joining date? As you all know, such questions are veiled commands when they come from bosses. Thanks to the 19^th virus from the COVID family that recently took birth. I was asked to let go of 3 months of my Special Leave. To explain, I work for a UN agency – UNICEF.

With this, I started mourning the end of the fun times- the stomping of the neighbor’s roof, the tyranny on the husband’s car, the revenge act with foreign language; I was made to pay for all of that. I started imagining my life after office restarts and trust me didn’t like it at all. I had started delivering mental eulogy to all of my favorite things which to me were even dearer than Maria’s ‘raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, white mettle kettles and warm woollen mittens’. The grief was visible on my face and obviously the husband had to ask. Well, he has been trained in 6 years and how. With utmost empathy on his face while dancing with happiness in his head that God has granted him his wishes, he asked, ‘why do you look sad my dear?’  And I broke down. I said, ‘you see, now I will have to let go of everything that I loved doing during my leave- my dance, driving, Spanish, toastmasters meetings…. I don’t feel good about it. I don’t want to go back to work before the designated date.’ Successfully hiding his glee and simultaneously imagining the good times coming his way, he consoled me as I cried.

Stress clouded my mind starting the evening of 31 March. After long, the sense of going back to school after summer vacations did rounds. In the morning, I didn’t feel like waking up as if I had entered a new era of gloom. With a feeling not less than that of being befooled, I re-joined work on 01 April 2020.

Few calls and zoom meetings down, I thought that coming back to work after a happy break of 1 year wasn’t as bad as I had imagined it to be. Thanks to the lock-down, I was working from home. I attended 5 zoom meetings on COVID-19 on the first day of work and wrote 3 observation notes. Could still had my share of fun by putting husband to work by making him write some of those three. And not only that I also wrote this chronicle the same evening. I went for an evening walk in the society premises successfully evading the spy cameras of the lock-down crusade. At the dinner table, I told my husband. ‘it was a good day’. Tomorrow, I will restart driving.

Self-Care before the times of Self-Quarantine

Not realizing that it will soon become mandatory for all, I started my self-quarantine journey way back in November 2018. I got my special leave from work approved. Back then, it was not for protecting myself from a pathogen but it was for my perceived fear of losing myself to the chaos of an unproductive yet dead busy work-life. And while I was happy that I was getting to relax and getting all the time i wanted to pursue things I love, I was equally apprehensive about this new arrangement that I had asked for myself. I didnt have to go to office suddenly after 10 years of constant to and fro between home and office and I didnt have a position to myself to make me feel important and influential. I didnt even have an active network with whom I interacted everyday outside home. I dont know if one has noted it, but I believe going out of home gives us an inflated sense of importance. We get ready, dress-up and prepare ourselves to go out, and therefore it makes us perceive ourselves superior to those staying home.

Inspired by Frida Kahlo

Out of all with whom I talked about my decision of special leave, almost everyone warned me that while I will initially enjoy the freedom of no deadlines and no stress, but soon, will be bored to death and might also regret this decision of taking a break from work. I was perplexed with such thoughts and anxieties before my 1 year leave period began. From Guwahati, Assam, I shifted to Delhi to join my husband to live in an Army Mess at the fag end of Dec 2018. It was a house sans kitchen as in the Army an Officer not staying with his wife is generally entitled to such an accommodation until opted otherwise. It meant I didnt have to cook and I dont like that much either, so didnt miss out much there. I used to start my day at 8.30 am because the mess would close by 9 am for breakfast.  Thats when I used to get-up after my dear husband had pampered me back to sleep on his way to office at 8 am. I wanted to get enough of the feeling that tells how it feels to sleep without having to get-up without morning alarm indicating office. After a sumptuous breakfast at the mess, where I would initially see few stranger ladies everyday who within a month, become friends, I would chit-chat and take a stroll in the beautiful garden of Army Battles Honors Mess. Then come back to my accommodation, try reading a book and by then it would be lunch time and I would again go to the mess and eat with those two ladies. Interestingly, one the two ladies, Mrs Mehra (wife of a serving Major General, Army) turned out to be a pleasant surprise for me. She was unassuming, extremely humble and grounded and absolutely realistic. I never thought , I could get along with a senior lady on such a pleasant note given the regimentation and formalities of the Army atmosphere. Important to mention here that after observing it for more than 6 years I have accepted that there are many norms in the Army which are not in sync with the ideologies that I have acquired by virtue of my profession, however, I have learnt to respect it the way it is despite disagreements.

In the middle of this new phase of life, something hit me hard and brought me on my toes. One night, few days prior to my periods I felt a more than usual discomfort in my right breast which i believed was hormonal. Yet my husband insisted that I see the Gynae in the Army hospital. On a Saturday morning which evaporated into afternoon, after a long wait, as it was not an Officers' OPD day, almost at the close of the day, I could meet the doctor. I explained what I experienced, expecting like always, he would say its nothing but PMS. But, lo and behold, he frightened me by referring me to surgical ward suspecting a lump. I didnt sleep the whole night and the next night and not even the following night, until I went to the see the doctor at surgical ward on Monday. And the surgeon wasnt available (you see Army hospitals and Government hospitals). Then, I had to see any available general physician as more than anything else I was pained by the anxiety, and needed a medical expert to give me a final verdict on the suspicion of the Gynae.

All this while, the only thing I wished for was, " Please God, protect me and Give me good health'. Everything else that I ever cared for such as a good job, good looks, money; became immaterial.  

He was God for me as this gentleman's words were an antidote to the damage the gynae had done to my mind. He calmed me down and ruled out all suspicion through a sonography report. I cant explain how blessed and fortunate I felt after the report, I thanked God endlessly and still continue to do so.

This episode left me with such a feeling that eversince, all my prayers and wishes are directed to only the wish- Good Health for me and my family members and loved ones. Ever since, that episode, I have learnt acceptance and the sense to appreciate and rejoice even the most basic and granted things in life. Now, it doesnt bother me if I will get a promotion or not, it doesnt matter if others will praise me or not and it doesnt even matter if I had limited resources as long as it was enough for a basic living. All that matters to me is good physical and mental health.

Anyway, time passed, with a heart full of gratitude for each and everything life had given me, I started making the most of it. This episode, while it got me overthinking fretting over little health issues in a bid to nip it in the bud, also broke my inertia where in order to get over the negative thoughts around health, I started pursuing the bucket list of things I wanted to during my year long break from work. Here is the sequence:

-      I began with my penchant for Public speaking and began hopping Toastmasters clubs in Delhi. After 4 months of assessment I zeroed down on a club and became a member. I became part of a network outside home apart from work.

-      I started painting. Few of my own paintings have amazed me and I wonder if asked to redo them will i be able to reproduce them

-      I learnt driving. Though I have a long way to go with driving in traffic, I picked-up this long cherished life-skills

-      I learnt to play a musical instrument. I can satisfactorily play many of my Hindi and English favorites on my ukulele

-      I started learning a foreign language- Spanish from School of Foreign Languages, Delhi. I surprised myself again as I turned out to be a topper in the two semester exams. In a first, I recited a poem in public that too not in my native or the language that I have learnt since school, but in a foreign language and won the first prize in an inter-college Poetry competition.

-      I restarted Kathak, Indian classical dance. I had learnt it before, but it felt like a clean slate until the muscle memory marked it presence while doing ‘Tatkar’. But the hand movements were apparently atrocious. Thanks to my guru, now I enjoy seeing my own dance videos.

-      In 6 years of marriage, for the first time, I lived consistent 1.25 years with my husband and contrary to what I worried about, not even for once I felt that I have had enough of him. Time with family made me a happier version of myself

As I write this, it feels like rediscovering myself all over again. As if I didn’t know myself well enough to be aware that I could do as much and how. It was a discovery that unlike what I had believed, my self-worth was not only as much as my job and position in an organization. Contrary to what I was made to believe and was anxious about, I never miss office (its only for the monthly salary that I would remember office if at all, however, I genuinely never felt that I needed more money than I had) I realized I had enough to keep me happy.

And while I was busy loving and enjoying my new life where I wasn’t going to office, didn’t have position and influence, didn’t have reason to go out apart from for few essentials for a short period of time and had all the time in the world to do whatever I had ever wanted to do and be with my husband(family) after 6 years of long distance marriage, there came Corona virus in February 2020 followed by mandatory imposition of Lock-down and social distancing as preventive measures.

And here I see, all that I intentionally asked for myself have come in the form of advisories to people as part of social distancing and self-quarantine. I see advices and videos from experts on ways to spend time while being at home during lock-down. Almost all the activities of my bucket list find their place in these advices. No wonder, I found myself swiftly navigating into the recommended way of living during COVID-19 pandemic. Being homebound didn’t bother me. And veritably so as I had already started living a life of realization, gratitude and with a sense of contentment with only basics and simultaneously praying for the good health of self and of  all the loved ones much before Corona virus arrived to drive home the point. I got my message from my own experience in the form of that medical episode.

I let out a long sigh as I note the similarities between the prevailing social situation including recommended individual conduct of every person forced by COVID19 and how that medical episode although a false alarm made me content with the basics to appreciate little things in life.

What I have come to believe in my 34 years of existence is that everytime the universe realizes that we are getting carried away and deviating from the realities of our existence, we are sent a message by nature and the invisible forces that life needs to be kept simple. True living isn’t about fat pay cheques piling up in your bank accounts, it isn’t about denying the realities of the inevitable- aging and death and of course not about flaunting that you had a more exotic holiday than your neighbour on social media.

Tue living is all about ‘happiness’ that comes from detachment from the never-ending temptations of achieving more, it is about being at home and doing nothing, it is about not having to keep an account of time and productivity. True living is about enjoying leisurely with  family without worrying about who has to go to office and school and when, true living is about doing your laundry, washing your utensils and mopping your floor on your own, True living is about accepting that we are not beyond nature and universe and respecting its boundaries instead of exploiting it to the extent that it gets compelled to send us a direct/indirect red flag- this time in the form of Corona virus.

Living through past 1.5 years and substantiated by Corona virus crisis, there is another important message for me and all- that no matter for how long we don’t go to work either 1.5 years or 21 days, the world will not come to a stand-still. It will go on with or without us. It tells that even if the house-help doesn’t turn up for 21 days, you will manage the chores on your own. It tells us don’t go by hearsay and see things for yourself to believe them. It tells, if you want you can do it.

It tells us that things look challenging only until you take the plunge, once you get into it, there is equilibrium! The one that I found for myself 1 year back as I decided to take a break from the maddening crowd and be with myself.

Got Full marks for Disobedience?

The famous American essayist and poet Henry David Thoreau said and I quote ‘Disobedience is the true foundation of liberty. The obedient must be slaves.’ Unquote.

I am enamoured by this quote and understood very early in life that it is not easy to live it.

As I begin to introduce myself, I have to say- I am a girl from Bihar. Now, I have already hit the abyss, isn’t it? Across the globe, as soon as a girl is born, she inherits the responsibility to disobey the patriarchal mores and sexism to prove her merit and the perception about the state I come from makes it even more difficult.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed disobeying my parents like most adolescents and teens do but being a girl, it wasn’t easy. I come from an education-oriented family however, my parents were not too ambitious about my education and hoped that it should be to the extent that it fetches a good match for their daughter. They had chosen the treaded path of science for me and Imagine, back then I disobeyed and chose to study advertising for my graduation. Well, my parents had no clue what their daughter was studying until I topped the first year and later all three years of graduation. For a change, my father was in agreement, happy and proud. Our relationship was becoming ideal and then I went on to crack one of the leading Communications B-Schools- Mudra Institute of Communications, Ahmedabad. My father was even more proud and I was glad for making him so.

It has often happened with me in life that as the journey starts getting smooth, there always comes a bump at the time when I am about to reach the destination. And so also it happened when I was just 6 months away from completing my MBA. In the middle of a dance rehearsal for an upcoming event at college, I received a phone call to be informed that my father is critically unwell with heart-attack and wanted me to visit home. For all I knew, I had the least idea that he was no more when I was informed about his desire to meet me.

There are turning points in life for all and that probably was mine. While all my friends were targeting corporate jobs in metro cities, I prayed that I get a job in Patna where my mother stayed alone. And when you really want something, the universe conspires to make that happen for you. In the most unlikely turn of events, government of Bihar for its Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MGNREGA) Biometric based project now evolved into UIDAI/Aadhar was looking for a communication professional from MICA.

Well, who would like to go to Patna after studying at MICA, so I got my first job hands down in order to be by my mother’s side when she needed me the most. While everyone at college including myself believed that my decision to start my career from a small city is full of risks in terms of career growth opportunities, in hind-sight that decision proved to be the biggest booster for my career. It was a blessing in disguise which carved my path for my entry into one of the most reputed organizations in the world- the United Nations.

While my resolution to take care of my lonely mother and career were set, the constant pressure to get married was looming large on the horizon. Well not all my college time decisions turned to be useful and one of the most unpromising of them was to turn down Aki’s proposal.

Anyway, with my experience, I can equate the exercise of finding a marriageable guy with that of pollution in Delhi. It only gets worse every passing year. Well eventually, I came across my present husband and here began another episode of dis-obedience.

My mother and brother hoped me to be settled in a happily ever after marriage but as opposed to their imagination I chose a nomad who shifts locations every 2 years and that too to places one would have never heard of before popular films like Uri hit the screens. Yes, I married an Army-Officer and after 6 years of long-distance marriage, recently we started living a married life in Delhi.

In the meanwhile, I had already spent 7.5 years living alone and working in India’s North-East. Suddenly, last year, I felt that ‘mid-life crisis’ has hit me before time and I took another unusual decision to avail Special Leave from work and re-connect with self and life with fresh vigor. I shifted to Delhi to stay with my husband. And as I am left with only 6 months into my leave with multitude of incomplete plans, I am not sure whats the next big disobedience I am going to take up.

A meeting - November 2019

Yesterday, I met an old friend from school who is settled in London now. Such are the perks of living in Delhi. There is a pattern to our interactions which goes in a way that after 2004, our interactions have been mostly once in two years. The last time we met in our hometown according to him was to bring me ‘ivory sheets’ in 2004; I studied advertising at graduation.

Well, when I was in the process of choosing, qualifying and taking admission in this course from apparently the best college in the capital of the state of Bihar, I had to batten down the hatches. Obviously no? Which parent of the 2000s would have understood and approved of Advertising as a subject to study? It was a long battle which I eventually won with the only consolation for my father that ‘She is studying in the best college of the city’ and never wanting to spell any further details.

Yesterday was almost like rediscovering a ‘me’ that I had buried in oblivion. The juvenile days of class 8-10 were recalled. There were so many things that I had forgotten, which I realised as he was mentioning them. The land line phones, my fascination for writing letters, my pimples, the determination to lose the last ounce of flesh on cheeks, the craving to go out of city only with friends and to break-free.

It was interesting to hear him talk about the hardships of staying in European countries. To meet a general physician, there is a waiting of 7 days, proving an ailment as emergency is tougher than cracking SSB exam and there is constant stress of missing the relevant metro without having a choice of another public transport. No wonder, for an excruciating eye problem which the NHP doctors failed to identify as an emergency, he was asked to wait for 4 days with the confirmation that it will heal on its own. As it was a reoccurring problem, he knew the medicine that worked but couldnt buy it without prescription in London and ofcourse no doctor agreed to write it. He had no choice but to fly to India, buy the medicine from a random pharmacy, apply and get fine in half an hour. Nonetheless, he went back to London and visited the NHP hoping for a long-term solution. Lo and behold, the doctor says ‘ Did not I tell you that it will heal on its on within 4 days’? With a poker, he said to himself, “I am happy the whole episode was still cheaper than consulting a private practitioner in London”. My take on this is that I have enough of my own logic defying anxieties to deal with, who is going to add to it the woe of worrying about missing the metro. Hearing his rant, I was sad and happy both. Sad because like half of the educated population of India, the idea of the utopia outside India was shattered. I would miss the little solace, I would find in imagining myself living in foreign country. Happy because-I thanked God and counted the conveniences and flexibility of our country- so what, if we are overcrowded and using carbon-filter masks to breath.

I have mentioned the pattern of our interactions, so this was after 2008 when we had met face to face in Pune last and had talked in detail on any medium after 2013. It necessitated that I share with him all the attention I got from guys in post-graduation college while he wasn’t any behind throwing names of girls who used to die for him. It was probably our way of self-ego massage, now that we are around 10 years ahead of college li

Middle class background and work life at Global Human Rights based organization

I come from a middle class family in Patna, Bihar. My parents provided me with decent education, however, did not encourage extra-curricular activities much. While growing up, I would see many of my friends in school and neighborhood go to painting, dancing classes, reading books apart from those in school curriculum. Not that I didnt do these activities, but I didnt learn them systematically. Was happy at the same time that I dont have to go to more than one school during those days. Waking up unwillingly for one at the break of sunlight was enough 😝

I had to struggle through a number of patriarchal norms in the family which then were not known to me as 'patriarchal norms' . I saw all my cousin sisters cooking at home from an early age and also manage studies alongside. I never thought of equality then but at the same time, never conformed to those rules and had a strong stand against them for some strange reason. Many times, I have quietly battled and won without words the war of prioritizing my studies over household chores. While this perhaps helped me build my career, but as an adult I developed a sense of dislike for cooking as an activity because it always reminded me of imposition and gender inequality. So, now when I see so many of my colleagues and friends talking about baking and trying new recipes, I feel jealous in my subconcious for not having the inclination for it which I otherwise enjoy while in 'Have to cook' situations. Also, in present times, its fashionable to have a hobby of cooking and I regret missing out on being 'cool' 😃

I fail to catch-up with conversations about reading books in childhood because what I read was 'Diamond' comics emulating my elder brother; unlike the kids from the urban smart families. Though I read the commonly known ones such as Famous Five, Nancy Drew, Mills and Boons and the likes but when I hear my colleagues naming unheard names of authors of children books, I literally start blaming my parents for having not introduced me to them. Because, as a child I never read them and after becoming an adult, I dont have children so far that I get a reason to explore children books. To summarize, it feels excluded and very middle class to be unable to contribute to childhood readings discussions during office get-togethers. Here I miss another chance to network and become popular, ah 😉

Went through major ups and downs to be where I am today. The struggles were manifold. First, probably that of being intrinsically  repelled by patriarchy in the family. Second, like many, dealing with the adolescence phase of life all by my own without much familial support (donot blame my family/parents for it, no one trained them and available exposure was limited). And then, at the age of 21, when I started rejoicing seeing my father opening up and welcoming my aspirations, he also left us devoiding me of the new found support. Throughout my journey till today as a girl from the so called 'backward' state of Bihar, my elder brother did significant things to make me strong and independent. While in my family, he was the obvious one against whom the gender pitting would happen but he never did things to perpetuate them. And that was a big strength.
In hindsight, I pat my back for having the grit, determination and courage to navigate through all odds of society without even consciously realizing them then.

As fate would have had it, I landed up in a Human Rights based organization. Here, I formally work to address many of the issues and norms which I struggled against in my own life as a girl child, adolescent and young woman and emerged a 'hero' for my self. But now, I see myself shaken and overwhelmed at several occasions while consciously fighting the exclusions rampant in numerous spheres of life. Be it personal or professional.
And, it is much more difficult to fight now, because these exclusions/inequalities are perpetuated by those who otherwise at the top of their voice shout against them working in the development sector.

A famous feminist ones said that High paying organizations in India are work places for 'Brahmins'. I live this feeling at my organization. Being brahmin here means powerful by virtue of coming from an influential family, networked or by virtue of knowing seduction and intimidation tactics (Machiavellian). When you are Brahmin you are a Brahmin- not man or woman, the gender based power boundaries are blurred.  In these organizations, those who apparently work towards strengthening women oriented Government schemes, never miss a chance to exploit a vulnerability of a female colleague to rise high. Mind you, not only men but women also do it against other women as it is easy to walk over a person who might be technically sound but with limited Machiavellian skills because of the background one comes from.  Instead of being supported, they are exploited. Ganging up with those women who could manipulate to exclude those who are honest and hardworking. But, no complaints because such is life and hypocrisy and politics of development sector is a hard-hitting reality.

I am happy to have understood the complicated & disguised web of development politics where personal is political. Where  we fight a class battle to make a place for ourselves among the brahmins. This is the first step. One day, I will learn the knack to deal with it too. Till then, lets do our jobs 😉