Periods, Pyaar And Patriarchy

Chapter Four

Three days later finds Shweta curled up on the couch with the smell of her freshly baked cinnamon buns from the oven wafting around the house. Seema had just returned from her day's work and was reclining as well, sipping on some tulsi-flavoured green tea.

Sanskriti's recent post with Shweta, Vaibhav and Aditya had hit about eight thousand likes and she had tagged both of them. As a result of that, Shweta had gained quite a few followers on Instagram as well. She was nothing like Sanskriti and her following sat at a humble five hundred. Mostly because she didn't care to be the next influencer on the block like Sanskriti did. But the new influx of followers had led her to wonder if she should clean her feed a bit. Remove the shit-posts; particularly the ones that were just memes that only she seemed to find funny. She was now scrolling through Sanskriti's feed to get some inspiration. The girl's Instagram was nothing short of an aesthetic paradise; a desi-minimalism trend in contrast to some loud and sparkly accounts. Unfortunately for Shweta, her reverie is interrupted by her mother who seems to be close to physical combustion.

"Shweta!" She yells quite unnecessarily for she was sitting down only at a metre's distance.

Shweta instantly sits up, her posture upright and spine straight enough to make a YouTube Yoga guru proud. "Yes, maa?" She asks, trying to sound obedient and docile. Two of the things nobody who knew Shweta would use to describe her,

"Don't 'yes maa' me!" Seema says, clearly affronted for reasons Shweta was still unaware of. And realising that her daughter was not a mind-reading twenty-one-year-old she adds, "Is this how you intend to spend your gap year?"

"Well! I have started working out, haven't I?" Shweta asks, trying to be discreet in putting her phone away.

"Is that what you intend to do? Become Miss Muscular?" Seema asks and Shweta bursts into a giggle. Her mother glares at her.

"No, maa," Shweta says, trying to fight back the laughter. "What do you think I should do?"

"Well, join a coaching centre for UPSC," Seema says and Shweta puts her fingers in her ears and begins humming a tune pretending to have not heard it.

Irked by the insolence and ruffled at the prospect of having a daughter who believed that growth was possible away from coaching centres and government jobs as well, Seema says with a bit of irritation, "Well, then you could brush up your CV. That's the least you could do! Volunteer at the hospital's disability and old age centre. Or intern for a cardiologist."

"Maa, you do realise that a cardiologist wouldn't really want a History Major working for them, don't you?" Shweta says, wondering if age was finally creeping up on her mother.

"Yes, yes of course. But you could volunteer at the centre. And take up a content writing internship for someone on the internet." Seema suggests and Shweta perks up.

"That's actually a pretty good idea," Shweta says.

"You should also join the yoga class Dr Rajendra's daughter has opened. Studied for all those years in America to come and open a yoga studio! But I suppose we should support our colleague's children. Lord only knows what foolish endeavours my children have in store for them." Seema says.

Dr. Rajendra was a neurologist working at the same hospital as Seema. His daughter Ritika was a few years older than Shruti and had been studying abroad as Seema had mentioned. Blue-haired with multiple tattoos and piercings, she was Seema's worst fear for her daughters. But she was actually pretty cool. Sweet, kind and down-to-earth; she had begun running a yoga studio. She also had a website where she sold handmade earrings, scarves and things of the kind. Shruti and Shweta were both fond of her even though they secretly thought her to be slightly woo-woo and whimsical.