It's a girl's world too...

I knew it would be a son. Without any doctor telling me. And my first-born gave me no surprise. The only thing that bothered me the first year of his birth was returning to work leaving him home. Things rolled back to normal soon after. Until my second born shook me out of my life.

I sensed a sudden flash of light around me when the doctor broke the news, ` it’s a baby girl, asha.’ Suddenly, a halo engulfed me, ripping me off any brain activity or muscular motion in the body for a few seconds. The moment passed, giving way to joy and relief. I chided myself, ``have I not waited for this? Now I can doll her up.’’

But on many sleepless nights the moment and the halo has returned to my mind, disturbed me, given me a feeling of guilt. I wanted a girl the second time. So that the family picture is perfect. Then why did I break out in a sweat? 

I presume I was afraid. To take up the responsibility of a girl child, ``my god! It isnt a safe place for girls,’’ was my initial thought. Slowly and steadily I have overcome the embryonic feelings, but there are moments when it keeps visiting. And then I become a little girl myself.

I remember an eight year old standing alone at the corner of the playground, after a hasty lunch, looking at the action around her but in no mood to take part. My father had passed away weeks back. Many afternoons, I stood like an apparition, talking to myself mostly. I had lost my father and my mother was lost  too.  I think it is hard for a child without her father but even more harder for a 35 year old widow with her two kids, no job and a near loveless extended family. She not only has to keep an eye on her children, but on herself too. She knew I was a silent child, but was not aware of the stillness that grew within the silence.

 It took me many years to understand what my mother really lost. Still, instead of burdening me with any tint of her fears, she effortlessly inculcated in me the need to look after oneself.  The need to be in charge of ones life . She so trusted me that I could not breach it.

In my teens I was more evolved and less silent. I was granted so much of freedom that many of my classmates would envy me. I do not remember my mother stopping me from outing with my friends.  Thankfully, I had a circlet of friends who would not let me fall, faint or fail.

Once, while returning from Maths class, an auto rikshaw pulled up beside me. A dirty looking stout dark woman peered out, ``could u tell me dr. Pillai’s house’’ she asked her gaze flirting around. I detailed the route. Suddenly she extended her hand and tried to pull me in, ``why dont u get in and show me? I shall drop you home. The alarm rang. I ran to a nearby house and banged on the front door. An old man came out and seeing him the auto took off in great speed. For many days after this episode, my younger brother would walk me back home from the tuition class. My mother, who must have been worried sick, told me ``be brave and pray for good!.

I often wonder if I would grant my daughter the same freedom that my mother lavished upon me. I roamed in the city with my best friend in her scooty, rain scattering on our face, in search of shops we have never been to. We frequented ice cream parlours, spend money on greeting cards, gifted cassettes, befriended boys, spend midnight hours on the road painting it saffron and green for the Independence day celebrations. While on our college excursion, we sneaked out of our hotel room to go to a bar to buy beer, at 11pm. 

 I fell in love at 18, broke my mother’s expectations for the first time, yet she accepted my identity as an individual. She let me pursue my life as I wished. I stood for elections, took up journalism, came home at 2am and many days returned to work by 4am. And married the person I loved. I really wonder if I would step aside and give my daughter or rather my children the same space.

It is this greater awareness of being a mother than the mere task of pushing them out of my tummy, that my second child has sowed in me. My son had been a cold breeze on my face but my daughter a splash of ice cold water, awakening me from a slumber. In the past one year, my fears have subsided. I know they dont need my fears to grow up, only unbiased love. I rewind my childhood and learn new lessons from my mother. How its not the world my children lives in that needs change but its the world I create for them. 

I know I cannot take care of them all their lives. I can only give them values, teach them morals, boost their confidence and be by their side as they take on life. But I do wish they give me no more surprises and spare me from tough lessons...