Woe-men’s Day
A child is born and then acquires the identity of a man or a woman. To the child, the woman who gives birth to him or her is beyond being a man or a woman as she is the source of sustenance for some time to come in this harsh world, just as she had been before birthing, sustenance, and safety. As the child grows while the father becomes a source of dependency the true heart ruler whether that be for a boy or a girl child still remains the woman.
From the moment a child is born and nurses on the mother’s breast is built an unbreakable bond of a reacher and provider, which might change from the nourishment of the body to that of mind to that of emotions. But our true nourisher will always be our mother. As the child weans of the mother’s milk, there is a new one of nourishment of food which is usually provided by the mothers cooking and so sets in a new set of trust, usually ingrained. The sons believe their mother is the best cook, the daughter trusts her mother the best when picking up recipes even when she sets out to set up her own home, that even in front of other better cooks. As the child takes his r her first step and speaks the first words, a new journey is embarked on, that of discovery, of knowledge and of intellect. It is, of course, started holding the mother’s finger more often than not, she is our first teacher, our first mentor and so she sets in place the role of anther nourisher. As the hatchling spreads its wings and embarks on a flight the child learns emotional turbulence and it is here that the mother fulfils yet another role of nourisher, that of emotional nourishment. The mother is our first and more often than not the closest and most enduring. Confidant. She is the wind beneath of our wing when we falter in our flight and our loudest cheerleader when we are surging ahead in the pursuit of our dreams. There comes another role that the mother fulfils with consummate ease, the role of being our anchor and home stone. When we fly high n far, our mothers are our beacons to let us know where to return to, our anchors to let us be grounded even when our heads are touching the sky. How can such a woman be anything but irreplaceable? How can a woman then be a woe to anybody?
Let us now look at our little ones, the bundle of joy that comes off our loins and becomes a woman in their own right. When they are in our homes, seldom is there a father who doesn’t find his trials of the day washed away by the peals of laughter of his daughter on coming home. When the daughter blossoms into a woman, nary is there a father who doesn’t beam and want to protect her from the boys making a beeline for her attention. If by chance the princess is an ugly duckling, the father is more protective of her, patient for her to bloom into the resplendent swan that she becomes in her own way. And what of the mother? Every daughter is the living doll that a mother wants to play with. She might have left her dollhouse in her parents’ house but when she gets her daughter in her arm she probably is the same child in the heart again and plays her heart out with her living doll. The way she preens and dresses up the daughter is way more indulgent than to the best of her dolls in her childhood. It is thus no wonder that when a daughter leaves her parents house for her husband’s house, the way is washed by the tears of the parents. How can such a precious jewel, the most precious in parent’s treasury be anything but joy? How can such a princess be woe to a parent?
And then is the turn of our lady love. As the princes of our life spread their wing and embark to set up their own nests, they must find their own lady love. The one to hold their hearts precious, their health up and their minds sane till death do them apart. A woman welcomes her man into her heart, bed, and body. She receives the seed of her man and nurtures it just as she nurtures her man through fair weather and foul often shoulder to shoulder, often in the shadows. A woman fights for her man with even the Gods as our mythology tells us about Savitri, or our history tells us about Padmini who snatched away her husband from the jaw of his captors. When the man is high she steps up to the plate of the mother as a cheerleader boisterous in her support. When he is on the wane, she reaches out to help pull him up to the best of her ability. This is the person who helps us achieve our best and fulfill our potential. A woman thus holds her man close to her and nurtures him to heights. How can such a person be woe to any person?
I don’t say there aren’t any aberrations to this. I am sure there is plenty and more. A woman who doesn’t hold the priority of nurturing her child is for sure to be found. A daughter that was the princess of daddy who broke his heart and played truant are there around for sure. A better half who often in trying to become the best half has broken things into half and more are probably more found today than earlier. But then aberration in itself means that they are not the rule and so stand out. What doesn’t stand out thus is the rule which is that a woman is the rock on which we built our lives.
Women thus do not need a woman’s day to affirm that integral part they play in our lives. We who doubt this thought are the ones who need this reminder, a reminder that a woman is not about woe but about helping us get over the woes of our life, from the moment we are born through the span of our life in some capacity or the other. So to every woman, I have one thought, every moment a woman touches me is a woman’s day for me. Happy woman’s day to you, all of you, health wealth joy and good cheer….but above all of this I wish you LOVE……
