The 19th over, Amy Jones whacks the ball towards wide leg-off… goes for a six…Oh! Harleen Deol catches it…No! She loses balance…. throwing the ball in the air just as she skips out of boundary….Whaaat? Diving in the air, grabbing the ball mid air….she falls to the ground in glory….
Nice catch. Too good for women’s cricket, plus look at how pretty the girl is. Now that’s what I call feminism.
I am Garvit, a busy cardiologist.
So, where were we? Feminism. I am an intellectual with a very practical approach to life. The lady in question, unfortunately, is my ebullient wife Anagha.
She once signed out a cheque for home rent in front of my sister! Imagine! Although she was the one actually paying the rent for years, did that not project me poorly?
She sings while cooking and greets everyone with a smile; even the lowly lift man who wishes each passerby. Who would respect someone that easily approachable?
Initially, I managed to tame her. I simply had to rebuke her,and shrugging, she would disappear in the background.
I forbade her from catching up with her boisterous friends and instructed her to befriend my docile ‘Bhabhi’, imbibing real Sanskars from her instead.
I was kind enough to only pass acerbic remarks on her ill fitting apparel in summers. The imbecile, aspiring standup comedienne had no retort to my wisecracks on her inadequacies, but she rebelled when my mother coerced her into piercing her nose to adorn a nose-ring!
I did a good job polishing her raw edges till she lowered her eyes and shone, like my mother. And then, she conceived.
The glint in her eyes resurfaced. Now, she prances about the house, regaling the infant with stories, humming lullabies extempore. She blatantly refuses any superstitious belief that my discerning mother insists upon.
Eyes glued to the screen, I replayed the video. This woman played with boundaries, refusing to let them determine what she could do with this ball sized opportunity dealt to her!
I shushed him as he switched on the TV.
“You seem different.” He remarked condescendingly.
I looked him in the eye, and smiled. Rolling up my sleeves, I slipped by arms into the harness. I lifted my baby and gently lowered her legs into the contraption. Tucking my phone and wallet in my pocket, I heaved the backpack behind me, my shoulders aching with the load. Wriggling my free hands, I flicked my right foot before stepping out of the threshold; reminding myself of the rice pot when I first entered this house as a new bride.
I hopped along the staircase, tirades of threats and abuses chasing me.
And then, I ran across the porch, for no reason. In her kangaroo sling, the baby gurgled joyously at our sudden gain in momentum. I looked in my daughter’s eyes and smiled, and then laughed. Climbing up into the cab, I knew, I was not waiting for the judgement of a third umpire.
Bhabhi- sister in law, brother’s wife
Sanskaar- virtues imparted as part of tradition
On July 10, 2021 in a T20 match against England, Indian cricketer Harleen Deol took an astonishing
boundary catch that enthralled cricket fans and analysts alike. While her presence of mind and
agility were praised by all, statements and comments on social media highlighted our discriminating
attitude towards women cricketers. The story I have written is by no means unique, and that is
unfortunate. We need to alter our inner wiring, both men and women , if we intend to smash
patriarchy in the gut.
In many Indian Hindu households, when a bride enters her husband’s house for the first time, she is
made to kick a pot full of rice grains, kept at the threshold, such that the grains fall inside the house.
Rice symbolizes prosperity and the ritual encourages all inmates to respect the woman for bringing
fulfilment in their lives.
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