“I tell you. All this is the work of the one above, don’t you know?” It was the opinion of Susy Ommen of the Department of Mathematics. The subject of discussion was “Male Supremacy and Women’s Slavery.” Add to this, of course, the problems of employed women. Susy was the presenter and main speaker. Remany of the Department of Botany was the main opponent. Mrs. David functioned as the moderator.
It was an informal occasion. The women’s meeting happened during the day of the Arts Festival when all women staff came together. The spur was from a spark that fell from some corner. Some of the listeners were putting in their own opinions and comments in between. I was only a listener.
Anybody will laugh upon hearing some of Susy’s comments. When the excitement grows in the air and voices become louder, Mrs. David will tap on the table and say, “Order—Order…!”
The contents of the subject were these: even in the last phase of this twentieth century Men have got supremacy, and as a result, Women suffer a lot of torture, and men always like to see women as slaves, etc. Even when women work like men, there is nobody to see their difficulties and to feel sympathy for them. Women are the ones who suffer more in this. They have to manage their work both at home and in the workplace. They may not be able to do justice to both. The people at home and at the office may be discontented. Only a few men get ready to help women who are shattered and exhausted by their work at home and at the office. Some look at women as machines who make money. Husbands consider it below their dignity to help their wives at home. The discussion trailed along in this way.
“There is a husband in our neighbourhood who cracks the firewood into small pieces for his wife,” Susy said. “When I told my husband about it, you know what my husband’s response was? He is hen-pecked!”
“There are husbands who draw water from the well, cut the meat into pieces, dress the fish, etc.” Mary of the Department of Economics added.
“From the very beginning, these things are being done by women. They are supposed to do such things.” Remany became a little backward and orthodox-minded.
“Who said, we need not do such a thing? Will the sky fall down if they help us once in a while? Some husbands will tell their wives not to tell others about their help as it is shameful to them. That hypocrisy I don’t like.” Mary’s rejoinder.
“As you are a woman, you are supposed to do this and that…demanding such things is too bad. I will do that. Happily according to time and convenience. But since you are a woman, you are bound to do it…. that attitude…mentality… I don’t like it at all.” Mrs. David said emphatically.
“Didn’t I say already? The one who is responsible is the one who sits above.” Susy said once more. She meant God.
I was listening to everything. Though I found many of the comments right, I didn’t make any comments at all. As the one who is tormented by being a woman, I cannot say anything. My tongue is in bondage. My mind is in chains.
In a society where men are dignified simply because they are born men, women are only worms…supposed to be rubbed over, denied the freedom to speak even. A doormat!
If a man becomes a god, won’t a woman become a goddess? Even if a woman becomes a goddess, there is no need for a man to become a god.
Didn’t I have a concept of my husband? My husband should be admirable.
Still…?
Valsa used to make fun of me in the past.
“You are full of romantic ideas, Preme!”
Didn’t Prasad say the same thing? Wasn’t that the reason for my fall?
In my journey looking up the stars, did I forget the earthly matters? Was it my fault to have a mind above everything that is earthy? Why can’t I become an average woman…an average wife?
But my mind still shakes. The waves of emotions create the ebb and fall in my mind. My mind longs and laments for something I know not. My heart becomes restless, I do not know not the reason.
What a strange piece of creation is my mind! How amazing are the moods of the mind!
While I was walking to the bus stop, Prakash came along with me.
“It seemed all of you had a heated debate.”
“Yes. Yes. Our Mrs. David was the moderator. Susy was the star performer as usual.”
“What was the subject?”
“Prakash, you may not like the subject. Men’s supremacy—Women’s slavery—Contempt towards women…the problems of employed women…”
“Oho…Then you will have too many things to speak about.”
“Yes…Many things were said.”
“Then…Did you come to a solution?”
“Without finding out a solution, the debate ended. After all, how can a solution be found if women alone sit and talk about it? Men should also co-operate. Otherwise, what is the use?”
“Let me ask you one thing. What is your personal view? Do you think that women really suffer from slavery?”
“Yes. We can speak out a few things. Not everything. We can only feel the agony at heart.”
“So, are all men the culprits?”
“Not all. I know one person who is not in the category. My Pappa.”
“If so, consider me also in the same minority group. I cannot see a woman as a slave. I respect her. I respect her personality. I love her. I can even adore her.”
“Then Seena is lucky.”
“That I cannot say. Let Seena herself say it.”
“If all have Prakash’s viewpoint…”
“Actually, I don’t know, why we should feel contempt for women. Man gets his birth from a woman. I believe that a woman deserves respect because of that sole reason.”
Our talk was the same topic till we reached the bus stop.
While I was sitting on the bus, my mind hovered over the same subject.
The woman is ready to make any sacrifice if she is loved! Even if a gesture is shown…
She will endure anything!
A word of love—a look of recognition…enough to make her contented. If a slight willingness to help her is shown, even if actual help is not given, she will feel happy. Will man ever realize that it is much easier to make a woman pleased?
Might be. For selfish interest. What else is to be gained by pleasing a woman? Why should an attempt to make her happy be made? Totally unnecessary!
Suddenly I remembered my Pappa and Mummy. They were a real model couple. We never felt that Pappa was forcing authority over Mummy, or Mummy was bearing the yoke of slavery on her shoulders. Both did their duties happily. We saw them competing to love each other. There we never found Pappa’s personality being sacrificed or Pappa’s monopoly thrust upon her. LOVE! Pure love…We found only that shining in their life.
Didn’t I keep a desire secretly in my mind to lead a model life?
I did not bother to sustain myself. Is life’s purpose to earn livelihood alone? Aren’t there certain things above the mere satisfaction of hunger?
Others need not feel like me.
Why did I have a mind to feel sorrow and emotions?
Why should I struggle to fly as I do not have wings of my own?
(Cont’d)
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