Indian Unfolding: Musings Of A Small Town

Babies change everything

They say babies change everything. Take a couple that's not getting along, throw in a baby, and it will sort things out.

When I was conceived, I could feel the fiercely independent woman whose womb I lived in. But when I came out things were different, and the scar on my mother's tummy wasn't the only thing that changed.

Mother didn't argue with anyone anymore. She let everyone else tell her how to do things. She left her job at a time when she was being considered for a promotion. It went to someone who had been working under her.

Father started staying at the office till late to make more money.

One time he asked mother to come along to an office party, he remembered how her colleagues would love to talk to her before. It would fill him with pride, to flaunt that the sari she was rocking like a celebrity had been chosen by him.

But this time when she went, she had nothing to say. She had stopped reading the newspaper, she couldn't remember who was married to whom, and it had been ages since she last wrote a poetry verse. She had lost her charisma.

My cousin who was born two years after me, and much for the same reasons as I, was my best friend for many years. Until we grew up and got pitted against each other. Our grades in school were a reflection of how well our parents were doing, how good our mothers were at motherhood.

If a teacher was to praise me and punish my cousin, that would be the highlight of mother's day. I saw her cry about it once, for the kind of pressure it put on me. She said she wanted things to change.

In the supermarket today, she pointed out the woman who got the promotion instead of her. She was wearing a jeans and a top and talking to someone on the phone. As she reached for a packet of Maggi on top shelf, I noticed her scar, much like my mother's. Just that she carried hers with pride.