Women's Day

The Uncrowned Queen in my Den

Thirty years after marriage, when I woke up to the torrential deluge of Happy Women's Day messages across social media platforms, on the radio while driving to my workplace, and many more. Some of these messages were straight, some humorous, some naughty, while others determined with a firm resolve to change the appalling conditions of women, bring them to the fore, and empower them all in one day, but all of them were at their creative best. But then what was that that failed to thrill me, no it was not the idea of a woman's day, or rather I was indifferently amused at what could be that which has pricked these people, just one day, suddenly out of their slumber. Still, the self-styled radio jockey at the FM station thrilled me while ranting slogans and ideas while elated at his newfound gentlemanly saga, focussing more on a self-pleasing approach and regaling with it rather than his audience without the faintest idea of the contrary.
In the morning, I quietly woke up to just another day with a cup of tea joyously prepared by Shailendra. Shailendra's delight knew no bounds not because he was celebrating Women's Day by making the woman next to him happy but simply because he relishes the refreshing cup of tea that he self-prepares and believes his concoction like none other's. A quick disclaimer here, though every day his cup of tea tastes different, he thinks otherwise. Who cares if I get it right in the bed!
With practically no responsibility in our empty nests (as both my sons are out) to share, we nurture, debate, and solve daily the social, cultural, economic, political, ecological, traditional, religious, and practically all problems. Not only that, we assume to carry the responsibility of all portfolios at both national and international levels under the sky. While Shailendra unwittingly picks up the potential and aggressive masculine portfolios like economy, business, politics, and ecological, for all the rest, I have been the unchallenged monarch, seemingly devoured them all over the years. We both apparently, willingly carry these topics everywhere to the dining table, bed, patio, balcony, kitchen, and even while one is in the washroom. The one with the singleness of purpose reaches out to the other with their ideas, opinions, and aggressive agreements and disagreements even through the closed washroom door since we can't wait for the other to come out and then dole out our ideas. And Why not? The world seems to be going through so many upheavals.
Even myriad topics, movements, burning issues almost bring us to the worst disagreement ever, but Holla! Shailendra bats with my argument set while I rant differently from what I start with without catching on to how and when we swap, barter arguments. No, it is not symptomatic of chopping and trading the everyday household chores!
Is it what marriage entails? Or, is it a potential indicator that every day is a "Happy Women's Day" in my den.
Well, "the busy bee me" with a long day in the college, till late evening commitments often keeps me away from Shailendra and home. But, with no hurry-back syndrome was broken by a random call from him in his calm settled baritone, "Hello! Where are you?"
Since I was on an official commitment, I maintained the officialdom and replied without getting jittery and in no-hurry, cool diagnostic, "Hmm, I am busy. Will call later". Like in a grandstand play, Shailendra pretended to have understood my situation in all his self-righteousness and asserted with an iron-jawed clarification, "Alok bhaisahab and bhabhi in Dehradun for a marriage," which perceptibly implied, within the realms of possibility that he had already invited them. "Hmm, okay," I pretended to maintain my poise, knowing on the button what it meant, advanced with my negotiations, "Invite them, I will be back in half an hour."
"Can you please bring paneer while coming," was all Shailendra said, and everything fell into place- the dinner, the menu, the values, and the affirmed norms.
In the evening, while we entertained and conversed with Alok bhaisahab and bhabhi, who are more than just friends, Shailendra and I regaled in our self-styled ethics. While being a liberal husband, he has cheerfully furnished me my space and gets the hang of my commitments, both personal and professional. I being engrossed with my head in the clouds for spinning and begetting picture-perfect recipes in no time. Why wait for the knee-jerk double-take acknowledgment when none of us cared? Following embryonic dialogues like Q and A concerning the day spent in our respective workplaces, we finally returned to our portfolios, and we picked up the threads of our aggressive agreements and disagreements to keep the ball rolling.
Trin, Trin. "Hi mom, How are you?"
"Hi, anything important, call me later," I interrupted my son since his call interrupted our conversation, and I preferred to dodge that call but not the discussions, while Shailendra smiled in agreement. After all, we both believed to have solved many national and international issues since morning.
Pranav and Arnav know what it must be like in our den. Simultaneously, Shailendra and I enjoy our newfound carte blanche liberties, though synchronically present like a Rock of Gibraltar for each other. Not on a sour note, but we march to a different drummer.
Happy Women's Day!!!