Conditioned thinking -- How to break away from it?

[This post was submitted by a blogger who wants to remain anonymous.]

Recently I met a friend of mine from college days after a long gap. We had been rather close and used to spend a lot of time talking about whatever came to our minds. Gender inequality we faced was on of our favourite topics. We discussed it with passion. We were unanimous on one thing: we were NOT going to discriminate between our son and daughter when we married and had children of our own. Oh no sir!

Destiny did not put me to the test. It gave me sons, a pair of them. I was disappointed at not having daughters for the simple reason that I couldn’t prove to the world how those daughters were going to be brought up without discrimination unlike how I had been. I had been waiting to thumb my nose at the world in general and at remarks people were wont to make and to stand steadfast by my daughter(s). I consoled myself that I could prove my point when the time came by doing the same for my daughters-in-law. In the meantime, I tried to inculcate the right values in my sons.

My friend on the other hand was blessed with a son and a daughter. She had ample opportunity to put into practice what we so passionately believed in and discussed during college days. But as the evening wore on, I felt restless. Was this the same girl I knew back in college? Her conversation was peppered with a lot of ‘I was telling my daughter, men will always be men. Women have to adjust…....and more of such juvenile thought process” I was horrified. Where was that firebrand I knew back in the old days?? And what did she mean putting such regressive ideas into the head of her daughter, the new generation?? I was totally disappointed. And yet she claimed to have brought up her children as equals. Hmm…

Visiting her I noticed that she called her daughter to serve the guests a cold drink or for help in the kitchen. In my own house, my boys would serve cold drinks to the guests. Was it because I did not have a daughter, I asked myself. I admitted, perhaps out of habit, that “conditioning,” even I would have been tempted to call my daughter, if I had one, for help. But then breaking that “conditioning” is what we had talked about so passionately. I knew that even if such “conditioned” thoughts came unbidden to my mind, I would brush them aside consciously and do the right thing. Well that was me. Apparently my friend had succumbed ‘unconsciously to social pressure.

One day while relaxing over a cup of tea and pakodas, husbands in tow, she started laughing and told me of a conversation she had with her children earlier in the day over the phone. It seems that her 'lazy' son had appointed his sister to wash his undies on the weekends she visited him from her college hostel as they now stayed in the same city. His other clothes were given to the dhobhi. Till then he had washed them himself. Now that he was employed he gave the duty to his sister dangling the carrot of pocket money. The daughter who is still a student agreed. My friend was laughing at her son’s evident laziness and ‘smartness’ for finding a way out of doing some work. My husband and hers were laughing away too. I did not find it funny.

I wondered if the daughter had been older, and the brother younger, would the son wash his sister’s undies for her?? Would the parents have allowed it?? I could just imagine the horror on her face and that of her husband, in fact my husband too if I asked that question. So I kept mum. I wondered how they could see the funny side of it and not the less funny and discriminatory side of it. The father was even suggesting that the daughter should have held out for some more pocket money, as the son was earning well enough.

Am I over reacting?? I don’t know. But it revolts me that we should be “conditioned” enough to think that a brother washing clothes for his sister is a no-no but its merely a laughing matter (and the done thing) the other way round. I laid the matter before my sons later in the day. The elder son was merely amazed that such a thing was happening. The younger one flatly refused, saying, “I wouldn’t do that for him (elder bro) even if he offered me good money. (he washes his own undies by the way) But both of them were unanimous on one thing, the boy should not make his sister do something that he wouldn’t do for her. Ok, that is fair enough. That is exactly my point. But would he?? Would the parents allow it??

How difficult it is to come out of ‘conditioned’ thinking? Washing, cooking, laying the table, serving guests, sweeping, mopping are all woman’s work! I really don’t know how much I have succeeded in impressing my own children about gender equality. After all they live in the same society and see the difference in treatment meted out to women all around them. But I can say that I have tried my best and on occasions have argued my point with vehemence when they have unconsciously repeated ‘conditioned’ remarks heard elsewhere. I hope when the time comes, they treat their spouses the right way. But no matter, if they don’t, they have me to reckon with!

What does it mean to be a ‘mother’ ?

[Guest post contribution by Shailaja Mohan of Shail's Nest.]

An elephant does it. So does a goat, orangutan, polar bear, tiger, puma… Yeah they all do, give birth I mean just like countless other mammals on earth including humans. There is a difference though. While after giving birth, the rest of them go about their business of being a mother quietly, humans (the one human that gave birth and the rest of the crowd consisting of women and men) crow and trumpet about it, some among them continuing to do so throughout their lives, never letting their offspring or anyone else forget what a great and noble act was theirs. ‘Pathu maasam chumannu, nonthu prasavichu’ (Bore you for ten months, of course technically wrong, and gave painful birth) go the Malayali mothers (in real and reel life) and I am sure their counterparts elsewhere have something similar up their sleeve to keep those errant and not so errant but merely independent (which it seems is the greatest sin in the eyes of most mothers) children in line.

It IS a tough act, no doubt to it. But please spare me all those paeans sung in praise of mother and motherhood. Please spare me also the worship and adoration. Please spare me all that (nonsense) talk of divinity. Please spare me that place reserved for mothers over there on that too tall (and shaky to boot) pedestal which makes one look ridiculous apart from the danger and discomfort of standing on it impersonating an inanimate stone statue while the rest of you burn incense sticks suffocating one in its smoke, burying one beneath garlands of tributes and chanting praises to mother and motherhood till one goes deaf…. And all for what??! For going through the perfectly natural biological act of giving birth?! Give me a break society.

Yes, I am a mother. So what??

I am no God-like figure.

I am no superhuman.

I am not an inanimate object/stone idol.

I am not an asexual being.

So stop treating me like all of the above just because I have given birth.

I am human.

I am made of flesh and blood like the rest of you.

I have all the human feelings and failings.

I laugh, cry, get angry and stressed. I may scream, throw something in frustration. I love with all my heart. I also hurt. I desire, long and yearn. At times I may feel jealous, envious, disillusioned, and delusional. I need love, sex, sympathy, care, pampering.

I sometimes hurt with innocent remarks or barbed words spoken in frustration. I forgive the worst of mistakes. I expect to be forgiven too.

Sometimes I am down in the dumps, I am lost. I need a hand to pull me out of my despair or at least railings to hold on to pull myself out. Don’t think/assume that because I am a mother everything becomes alright magically. I need affection, a caressing hand, a warm breast to lay my head when I feel cold and alone. I think you are the world, but I need to be made to feel I am the world too for someone, somewhere.

I am scared at times, unsure too. I make mistakes, I may want to walk out, start afresh. Instead of kicking me down, accusing me that a mother cannot, help me start over again. I am also capable of hate. I lash out, strike, spew venom. I may have my moods. I may look forlorn and morose. Don’t expect that ‘mother’ is a synonym for the mannequins in the malls or worse still, the models who are paid good money to do a bit of smiling for a short time in front of movie cameras. I also look frumpy most times quite unlike them, though I try not to.

I fall sick (remember I am human). I need the doctor, maybe someone to listen to my real or imaginary aches and pains. I want to be left alone just like you all want at times. I want to do my own things, not to be at your beck and call at all times. I have likes and dislikes. It is not always about your likes and dislikes. Respect my privacy. Motherhood does not mean my life is an open house for you all to walk in and out when it pleases you.

Don’t talk down to me, talk to me; you may know a lot of things. I know a few things too. Don’t treat me as if I have half a brain. I may not be used to certain things, so may take longer to learn or simply won’t be up to mark in some. Don’t poke fun or make unkind remarks as if I don’t exist. I do. Don’t assume (or expect) that ‘sacrifice’ is my middle name. Don’t worship me as you do the idol in the temple and then walk out to forget me till the next time you need something.

Yes, I became a mother when I gave birth, a biological act that has been assigned to me by Nature as of now. But that does not make me a saint with superhuman capabilities.

I am no God-like figure.

I am no superhuman

I am not an inanimate object/stone idol.

I am not an asexual being.

So stop treating me like all of the above just because I have given birth.

I am human.

I am made of flesh and blood like the rest of you.

I have all the human feelings and failings.

Treat me like one, just like you treat each other. Is that asking too much??