March 8th.
It began as an ordinary day....till I got roses and bed tea served to me. A few minutes later, my phone started beeping with sweet, powerful, prophetic and inspiring messages. All my gal pals were jubilant and excited.
It was "International Women's Day" after all. The excitement was tangible and the euphoria palpable. I couldn't help but be blown away by the positivity and good vibes floating in the 'virtual' world. Everyone that I met or talked to, wished me profusely and I returned the favours with equal gusto. The talk shows, the discussions and articles, news, all heralded the coming of age of women empowerment and 'nari-shakti'. I nodded mentally in tandem with every chant of "nari-zindabad".
Suddenly feeling invincible, I charged up to tackle my domestic problems, and the world issues too. I was on TOP of the world!!!
Unfortunately, my maid got an inkling of the special day and started acting hoity-toity. Giving her a temporary leverage, I granted her a few tantrums. It was her day too, afterall. A glance at my mobile revealed a dozen odd offers from apparel companies who wanted me to dress well on women's day, a leading salon which tempted me for a complete makeover on 'my special day', eateries and restaurants offering discounts on this day. Boy, was I blessed!!! I wished that my mother was here to see how far women have travelled from the days they were taken for granted and their wishes ignored. Now there was a whole machinery in place, geared to tackle her sundry feminine cares and concerns. The world cared for its women to look and act beautiful. Or so it seemed.
That my kids' exams prevented me from availing the generous offers all around is something I hope won't be held against womankind. After all, there's no dearth of women craving good looks and good food,and those equipped to provide both.
Sadly, I also saw a few cynics being spiteful and disdainful about this great 'women's rights day' and brushing it off as a one-day affair not to be taken seriously at all! It's cruelty of the first order to deny a woman the joy and thrill of celebrating one full day/24 hours/ 1,440 minutes/ 86,400 seconds of unadulterated bliss when no one dares to offend her, ridicule her, or worse, ignore her. Her 'acche din' were about to begin; the ball had been set rolling.
Or so it appeared.
March 9.
The morning after, I woke up to a shrill alarm bell. Waking up to meet the demands of the morning tea and tiffins, I felt a hollowness inside and a vague, weird feeling. Working through the mundane as an automaton, I sat down to rummage through the newspaper and flick on the TV hoping to find one big difference in the world's perception of the fairer sex. None too wiser, I muttered 'not fair' under my breath. Life had gone back to being 'normal', where normal implied tending to the abnormal expectations of the people in your life.
It seemed like a daydream had shattered. That 'special' day ended yesterday.
Today is just another (ordinary) day.
DEDICATED To all the extraordinary women who make the ordinary seem so special.
