It's Yesterday Once More..

Sudden squall. Rolling thunder in dark restless skies. Lashing rain and occasional hailstones rattling on the windowpanes and sunshades since early morn.

The ions of the atmosphere rattling the ions of my being.

Snapshots of the years gone by filling the spaces between the ions , a tumultuous onslaught of memories long forgotten.

8th March. International Women's Day. Spent the morning in bed, with hot cups of tea, Facebooking, blogging posts about my idea of a complete woman. And then began the memories! 

Cut to childhood.. A Shadowy mom. Here, there, everywhere. Through diving in the middle of dark nights, on the call of sirens , into makeshift trenches dug behind tall hedges in our garden. In mom's arms. Safe. 
 Indo-China then Indo-Pak Wars. Dad not seen. We are told he is at the 'Front". Battling the shelling and firing. Mom awake through the night. Listening to live coverage on radio. I distinctly remember the term "Sialcot Sector". Visions of soldiers on hospital beds, in corridors of the Military Hospital. .injured, bleeding, whimpering in agony. But I am strangely unafraid. My hand is clasped tightly in my mother's hand. I know that she is there. As our strength. And that she will never allow anything bad to happen to papa or us.

My grandfather on a bus from Dehradun. On his way to Moga for some paper work. Forgotten papers at home. 
Memory: Mom on a Lambretta scooter with maasi riding pillion and me standing in front. An exciting drive with my ponytails flying in the breeze all the way down the hairpin bends and curves of Mohand. Until we flag down a bus. Hand over the papers to my nana. And stop for a picnic on the way back home.

Memory: A small sister. And I have high fever. Dad missing again. Posted to a field area. Time -probably beyond midnight. Mom desperate. Loads me and baby sister on a motorbike (I think) and gets us to the hospital. Memories on being inserted into an ice water tub to lower the fever (that's how primitive the times were!)

Memory: A sudden visitor at Jhansi. Dad at war. Dusk falling. Mom borrows a cycle, puts sis in basket and me hanging precariously on seat at back. Cycle to local market to buy gifts for the visitor's children. 

Mom. Vinnie Dev. A strong lady. With oodles of courage and determination. Taught me those, and decorum. And to be a lady. And to rule. And to love. And compassion. And to always always lend a helping hand to everyone who needed one. And charity.

Isn't this what Women's Day should celebrate?

People later in my life, after marriage- telling me "Ye ladkiyon ka kaam nahin hota. Ye ladkiyaan nahin kartein" ..To assorted acts like all-my-mom-used-to-do and polishing-washing cars, bikes, etc. I remember my disbelief at the thought!!
Memory:  My cousin brother Sateesh Dev. Stayed with us at Bombay. used to be working at Mazagon Docks as a marine architect. Design ships. Made him oh-so interesting to my girl friends:-) He bought a motorbike. Would make me polish it down to every spoke in the wheels for extra pocket money / a secret ride with a boyfriend down Marine Drive while he walked our dog incessantly so my dad wouldn't know.

My sis and I were always encouraged to take part in the running of the home. Be tough and independent. Learn to fend for ourselves. I remember my mom handing me all of dad's salary one month while we were posted at Srinagar, Kashmir , to run the house as she did-- because I once questioned her as to how "so much money" got finished !And her amusement at "all that money" being over and done with on the 10th of the month:-)

Being a woman has so many facets. Far more than being a man. Fighting conformism to begin with. Fighting to stay ahead. Making a place within family. Leading, not following. Bringing up children to be the same. 

I owe so much to my parents. To my dad's unending pride in me. More to my mom. A whole lot to my husband, Rajiv. 

And it's yesterday Once More. Strengthening all my tomorrows. 

I can say today- with pride and with my head held high. 
Happy Women's day to Me. 
Happy Women's day to my mother. 
Happy Women's day to my daughters Aanchal and Shalu. 


And Happy Women's Day to every woman who stands tall. 
And to every man who is proud of such women. You- Rajiv Tyagi. My son - Saahil. And you- Gourav Sharma. 

To Us Women--

Been ages since I wrote here. Facebook and twitter seem to suffice as my sounding boards for angish, delight, excitement, sharing, caring..whatever!
Just realized, blogging is as much if not more satisfying a domain.

So- here goes! What better day than today- 8th of march - International Women's day:-)

It's not enough to build oneself into a paragon of strength and confidence. To become one with the times one is alive in. To carry the great things of the past with us. To hold technology, science and contemporary ideologies in our hands. To mould ourselves to fit into the future.

As women and equal part of the human race, we need to empower our elders, parents, grandparents, etc.. To do the same. And bring up our daughters to become independent, strong, go-getters and break the mould of the sweet helpless goody goody conformist cow.
Am proud of you mom.. Vinnie Dev. And of you both, my daughters..Aanchal... For pushing mom and me to become masters of all we survey, and you Shalu.. For evolving us, and yourself to take on the world.

Mom, I always saw you as the strength in our family. Riding bikes, jeeps, mobikes.. Driving us to school, hospital, holiday destinations..
So I became the same.. "Driving" my family with an iron hand in a velvet glove *since other vehicles always remained beyond my skills *..
And making responsible aware informed intelligent strong adults out of you three children.
Ladies.. It matter not what your social status, or lot may be. Whether you are a working woman or not. It matters that you evolve. Move ahead with the times. Stop playing helpless victim. Believe me.. There are a whole lot of great games to play out there. Go for it.

Rise above cribbing, crying, clinging.. And let today be the first day of the rest of your lives 

....................

To the woman who can face the sun and have people walk in her shadow.
To the woman who never needs to apologize for being a woman.
To the woman who can handle a broom nonchalantly, clear the cobwebs of her life herself, and retain the capability to fly off on it when the need arises.
To the woman with a sense of humour, and no chip on her shoulders.
To the woman who nurtures softness, toughness, compassion and love and allows it to grow within. 
To the woman who is the pillar of strength for family, friends and strangers.
To the woman who walks tall.
To the woman who holds the radiance of sunshine within her.
And lastly - To the woman who sees, thinks, feels, involves herself in issues beyond hearth and home, cares equally for peoples, nations, humanity.
To the Complete woman.

Happy Women's Day!
8th March. And 364 days ahead.