I woke up to some stellar news this morning – The Bhopal University has launched a course on ‘Adarsh Bahu’ to acquaint young girls with the dynamics of the family. It brought tears to my eyes. At least one educational institution in the entire country had the brains (and balls) to take this initiative. Else, the country would have gone to rack and ruin. Thanks to Pied Piper bahus like me and a myriad other girls who were frowned upon by the society. ‘Were’ because the society has accepted me now. I do yoga.
I really wish the University of Mumbai would have introduced something like this. Because keeping my family intact is so much more important than Gender In Literature; than riding the waves of feminism and the need to create one’s own identity. That way, the adarsh Priya would have been Priya Amolkar, and not Priya Gauri Umesh Chaphekar. But I’m clearly not adarsh, because I wasn’t lucky enough to sign up for this course that is nothing less than a gift to womanhood.
I’m assuming the course would have definitely saved a few blunders.
I wouldn’t have popped my cherry that early.
I wouldn’t have gotten a tattoo on my shoulder and my mother wouldn’t have eaten tubs of ice cream thereafter. Thank you for marrying me Shekhar.
I’d have learnt to make home-cooked food and not wasted money on pizza for the better part of my life.
I’d have learnt to make the perfect Patiala peg for my husband, which I did eventually. The problem was I learnt to down it too. Cheers, Pushkar.
I’d have worn the mangalsutra and bindi with pride.
I would’ve never known how BC is pronounced in the different parts of the country. I wouldn’t invent my own version too. Band-jo.
My girl friends would never have to ‘bunk’ home and meet me because their husbands loathe my wild and carefree spirit that comes with a long-lasting influence. I’m the drug, bebe.
My first boyfriend would have married me because I’d make him feel secure by not interacting with other (read hot) men and focus on the wellbeing of his, nay ‘our’ family.
I’d have learnt Kathak instead of belly dance.
I’d make babies to complete my incomplete family.
‘They should have an adarsh jamai course also’, my mother instantly commented on my post. But what Mommy Dearest doesn’t understand is that the ‘jamai’ is ‘adarsh’ by birth. He is genetically conditioned to do the right things. So what if he behaves according to his whims and fancies?
Now, now, apologies for all the male bashing. The piece called for it. I know that some of us are blessed to have husbands who understand us, who take care of us. Husbands who don’t shy away from making breakfast or picking up a pack of sanitary napkins on their way home. Husbands who give us a backrub after an earth-shattering breakdown. And husbands who give us the big O. The last one is the only thing that really matters though. But unfortunately, more than half of our clan is crushed under the mammoth boulder called patriarchy, too afraid to speak.
Moving over to something seriously serious – Yes, the country is proud to have women like Avani Chaturvedi, the first Indian woman pilot to fly a fighter jet, Meenakshi Gurukkal, the oldest woman practitioner and teacher of Kalaripayattu, an ancient martial art form of Kerala, and Indra Nooyi, the Chairperson and CEO of the world’s second largest food and beverage company, Pepsico. The list goes on, but it is way shorter than the list of women who are exploited every single second. In 2016, India recorded 106 rapes a day and four out of every ten victim were minors. And instead of coming up with more stringent laws to deal with these heinous offences, it’s a shame we are regressing towards a course that’ll help women to ‘adjust to the new environment after marriage’? Why don’t we instead have trainings to teach families to create a nurturing environment for the new bride – a place she’d happily embrace as her home?
I don’t think we need this course. I don’t think we need a course on family dynamics at all, because it’s our inherent nature that needs to change. We need to accept, support and grow together as couples and as families – by dividing our tasks and managing our time. No three-month course or a year-long diploma will ever prepare us for what lies ahead. But beautiful flowers of love are sure to blossom when the soil itself is rich in mutual respect and understanding.
Don’t sign up for this shit, please.