A letter to my Hero

Dear Ma,


I have always wanted to chronicle my understanding of you. Its no exaggeration to say that you have always been my Hero, my role model. But I strongly feel that understanding you will help me understand me better. So yes its for a selfish reason, but you've always been very kind towards most of my faults, so here goes:


My most enduring memory of my early years, when I was 4 or 5, was hating you for working.

I hated you for having a job and not being there to drop me to school or pack me awesome lunches. You missed my sports days and gave me the same old bread sandwich. I hated You. I couldn't understand why your work was more important than me. I hated you simply because I missed you. There was a time, in the upper kindergarten, when during a test, the parents of all the kids were present and helping their wards answer the "test". I didn't have anyone to tell me what the 5 times table looked like and was miserable. I didn't hate dad for working but I was filled with anger towards you. I envied the other kids whose mothers were omnipresent for every goddamn school event.


Then, as I began making sense of the things around me, I realized that I was privileged in a way. I got the best bicycle, the best dresses, the best birthday parties and the realization that you working helped me get the best of everything. Especially when I got put into a really posh school in standard 6 for which you and dad had to cough up a pretty big donation. You both did that without thinking twice and I found myself in the company of rich kids, wondering how I got here. I remember appreciating, for the first time, the privileges that your job afforded me.


As I immersed myself in studies and realized that I loved school, I remember the seeds of ambition taking root in me. I wanted to become somebody. I wanted to do something. I wanted to utilize me and make a difference. I remember looking at you in a different light altogether. I saw you not as a mother or as a bread winner but as an achiever. As someone who was the first woman scientist in the country to be feted by Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and all this when you were in your twenties. I remember looking at your photographs, receiving subsequent awards from other prime ministers and feeling pride swell up in me. I remember you telling me about how you work with farmers to improve their crop yields to make India self sufficient. That's when I stopped looking at the other kids with envy and felt nothing but disdain when their Stay at Home Mothers (SAHM) came to collect report cards.You were a superstar in my eyes and I didn't care that you missed all my best student award ceremonies.


When I was in college and was angst ridden as everyone, I remember you asking me what I wanted to do in life. When I replied, in a moment that only be described as “random rebellion”, that I wanted to just stay at home and marry a rich man, I remember that quiet look of exasperation on your face. You didn't chastise me for it, instead you said that if that was what utilized my talents to the best then I should by all means stay at home. That's what you taught me - to utilize my talents. To do what I was born to do. When I asked you why you work and slog your butt off, you simply said it was because you loved what you did. That thought stayed with me through college and helped me choose a job that was off the beaten path. Having found my raison d'etre, I now realize why you emphasized on me utilizing my talents to the fullest. Its the best feeling in the world isn't it? when you love what you do?

But Ma, having been in the work force for 4 years now, I also have come to appreciate the trade-offs that you've had to do to balance work and family. You were not just a working professional you were a working mother and I know now that it's probably the most difficult job in the world. It must have been tough to reject promotions that might have warranted extensive travel in favour of spending more time with your Kids. You must have been wrecked with Mommy guilt for not attending some of my school events because of some work deadline. It's at this stage in my life that I fully comprehend how tough life is for women like us who want it all - The balance between the Job and the family. The compromises demanded by such a balance is what torments us everyday. I can't begin to imagine the comprises you have had to make but today as I look out into the future, I can't help but look at you in admiration for the manner in which you succeeded in raising us and in having a super-awesome career. I only hope that I have half the character and determination you possess.

What I love about you was how dedicated you are towards your career. How you clung on to it despite going through some tough times - Like raising two small kids by yourself when Dad was on transfer for 10 years. I now understand why you just refused to quit. You were one of the first generation of women in this country to enter the work force and the onus was on you to perform and break the glass ceiling for subsequent generations. I can't begin to imagine the gender bias you must have faced because I face it too at work at this age. I have colleagues who tell me that as a woman I don't have to worry about promotions because I have a husband who'll take care of me subsequently. Yes. I can imagine the taunts you must have faced. The hard work you must have put in to get half as much credit. The unfairness of it all. I now know why it hurts you when educated women in my times opt to sit at home. I feel proud of you when I go to work because I don't have to prove my worthiness everyday and that I'm evaluated on an equal footing along with the men.

At this stage in my life, I think I understand why you are so tough and yet so fragile. You have been tempered by the times. I love you for your strength. Only you could tell me to follow my heart and go to a US school in such times when everybody is advising against it. Only you could tell me to have an incredible two years and chase a dream. I also love you for being so tender. For being annoyed at me for not calling home often. For my lack of culinary skills. I love you and admire you and I only hope I develop half the strength and courage that you posses. I desperately want to make you proud and I sure as hell will try to.

Your adoring daughter,

A