"Do see us sometime at our place so that we can talk over this matter in detail." said Mrs. Siddique as she bid adieu after we have finished our round of talk-dine-talk session at the reception of our common relative's son. It was indeed a good proposal for my daughter who had been the apple of eyes for everybody at the function, and nothing better could have suited her as in-laws as good as Siddique family. And why not she was a well placed as professional, independent with a charming persona, gaining admiration of not only the Siddques but other prospectors as well.
The world has changed as I look back in time, my own time, when working women were rare in our little town and that too in a very conservative orthodox Muslim community as ours, such creatures were non-existent. Those were the times when external features and 'fairness' were dominant characteristics of a woman than her abilities. Abilities, if at all, for her was being a good cook, submissive wife, obedient daughter-in-law; ever adjusting, ever sacrificing to everything now and then. In those times to think of a working woman was no less than to land on moon or conquer Everest for the community.
I was eighteen when I was married or rather given away to a family who were known to us through a common friend of my father's friend. Few inquiries, short time and there I was sitting under the veil of my bridal wear, waiting to utter the expected three words of marriage vows. Nobody bothered to ask my opinion, a young lady's dream, her pursuits and expectations in life. Why the pursuit? Why an expectation? No questions asked; what would I like to do after my secondary education - Marriage? 'It's good at least she is getting married at proper age despite dark complexion and ordinary features', as the opinion floated around. But was it good? In our age such questions were irrelevant.
The time at in-laws, which I thought would offer a comfort did not help either. Long hours of working for the joint family, perusals into the activities of the household left me no time to think about myself, least of all studies. 'What for? What's the need in doing so? After all the ultimate purpose of a wife is to raise her family? How the studies will help? Earning? ‘O! That would be a blot to the 'khandaan' or family’s rapport to send their bride to study to earn’. Were some of the questions that marred a dream, my husband was yet to gain a footing in his business, money was at distant, time was not very affluent, yet I was suppose to adjust to it rather contribute to build those pieces of his establishment.
Things progressed in course of time and we moved to a separate accommodation as we got prosperous. We were blessed with a boy and a girl, burying my ambitions, I was domesticated full time. Thick cloak of motherhood clouded the prospects of any dreams for myself, although domesticated, it was indeed a great contentment to witness the toddlers go from crawling to running. We enrolled them to better convent schools than convenient ones even if they caused extra load on our finances. And as time rolled with tide, things were good until heavens broke loose with heavy rains unleashing havoc in our small town.
We were not spared either, my husband's business got a serious setback with the floods brought by rains little did we know that it will take another ten years for us to recover from the losses. If not for the business crisis of my husband, which literally forced me to come out of ten years of my mundane life, if not for the two little cherubin in my life I might have had disposed myself like the same every day. Correspondingly, I took up graduation by distance learning, qualified a competitive exam and became a school teacher at a government primary school. Once invisible, at once I was visible to the community and talk of the households, questions were raised, opinions were given but nobody cared to suggest how else the expenses could have met otherwise.
Although additional income was added, life did not come out as a bed of roses either. Every day was a struggle for sustenance, my husband had to look out home where I would miss while I was away for work, kids would return from school only to find an empty house to welcome and feed on their own. Thank fully the contributions from their part made enabled my teaching career to go through less stressful. In those hard times we all as a family rose to our struggles only to come out stronger especially our children, who became more independent, a lesson well learnt for their future endeavours.
Things have been different since that day, with additional income and education we were able to raise our children ably and aptly. The bespectacled critical lenses were changed to a new vision, may be owing to monetary advantage if not moral or ethical one. Either way as word of mouth spread pupil came for counselling, advises and even notes, so that they too can lay an economic route of their own. Some tried, some qualified, some gave up and some still trying. The squeeze was worth the juice, as they say, in due course of time it did make a progressive difference in otherwise depressed society..
And now, as I stand awaiting my pick-up after the reception, the response to Mrs. Siddique quickly condenses - 'the decision lies neither with me nor with my husband or anybody else other than our daughter herself.'
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