Becoming a Mother

I was very young back then, probably in class fifth or sixth. Anyway, the age does not matter. What is really striking is how those words affected my mind. While travelling by auto, I suddenly overheard a lady speaking to someone—"Teaching is the best job for a housewife. They get all kinds of vacations; weekends are off and timings will perfectly match with the school timings of their children." I was a bit surprised. If she is a teacher, then how can she be a housewife? However, there was indeed something quite comprehensible to even my childish heart. I understood that this lady did not have high regard for the teaching profession.

While growing up, I realized this attitude to be a general trend. People often told me that I should aim higher whenever I informed them of my intention to become a teacher. Unfortunately, in this claustrophobic job market, it was challenging to choose newer passions and be reassured of getting a job in the same field. Thus, I modified my dreams and became an academician.

However, society never stops creating dream assignments for others. After becoming an academic, I was once again disappointed by society. Now that I was a professional and happily married, my next big project should have been to become a mother. I realized that all my life, my dreams have been about bringing down societal expectations. Becoming a mother after marriage was one great ambition for which many of my professional friends chose to leave their jobs and become housewives. On the other hand, I started dedicating my days and nights towards preparing professionals. My job was not only about training youngsters but it also involved a lot of research to stay updated with the changing world. For me, such demanding circumstances failed to evoke any biological ambition to give birth. As per divine judgement, I did not conceive as well.

Among many people, a friend of mine was particularly bothered. Ever since my childhood days, the lack of high ambitions in my life had particularly left her perplexed. Back then, I never used catchy words to describe my future and now, at the age of 35, I wasn't anxious about becoming a mother. Anyway, she was not my only well-wisher. Others too had their opinions on my life. Of them, many failed to even ask for my choice. After marriage, a woman ought to prefer a child. Thus, as champions of my cause, they prayed for me. While many people believed a childless life to be a dead-end, I had a few more reasons for not being extra keen. As an educator, I always found motherhood to be something more than mere procreation. No matter how much the word is belittled, inside the classroom while catering to more than sixty students at a time, my role seemed nothing less than a real mother. From that position, I could hardly construe teaching, motherhood or even homemaking as anything inferior.

Of all my students, two continue to remain distinct. Generally, a teacher loves students who are excellent in their studies or who respond very well in class. Many of them also enjoy the presence of the naughtiest brats in the lot. I was peculiarly touched by the mediocrity of these two girls—Divya and Jaya. I not only taught them but also guided their dissertation while they were pursuing their Master's Degree. I often scolded them for not completing the work on time or for not writing properly. They too felt bad whenever I chided them. But, as mediocre students often do, these two girls obeyed my instructions and always edited the documents to the best of their capability. On the day of their convocation, they were fortunate to receive the certificates from one of the chief guests at the function. Despite being photographed with a famous personality, they bothered to meet me after the function and click selfies. I asked them if they were not happy to finally get rid of me and how clicking a selfie mattered when they had already been photographed with famous personalities. To all my questions, they gave a simple reply—"Ma'am, we really miss you a lot." For once, the word "ma'am" sounded synonymous with the word "mom".

Soon after the completion of their MA program, they started working in different sectors. Divya started teaching in a school and I felt happy to know that despite the changing times, people chose passion for their profession. However, one day she called me in a state of great distress. After communicating for a while, I understood that like many, she too had started facing the realities of the world. Although taken up as a passion, teaching jobs are not devoid of their share of problems. Despite enjoying the main work, she felt claustrophobic by the stringent rules and regulations thrust upon individuals by the different agents of society. Somebody in her institution was cajoling her to wear 'sarees' (a traditional Indian attire) which she found extremely uncomfortable. Although it was not enforced as a dress code, she was perturbed by the nagging persuasion of her senior colleagues. While talking with her, I felt like she was at a breaking point. But I was not sympathetic. There was one thing I had learnt from my life. No matter how much one grows up, nobody can ever evade going through one's share of troughs. Nonetheless, it was important to console her. Thus, I suggested, "Tell them that it will take time for you to buy. Thereafter only you will be able to put on sarees." At this point, she sharply retorted, "Ma'am, I find it extremely uncomfortable and I am just not going to wear it for work." Probably, she did not perceive my intended meaning. I explained to her once again, "I am not asking you to wear sarees for real. Just keep on delaying the idea till your senior becomes tired of suggesting."

After disconnecting her call, I got another call from the same childhood friend who had forever been concerned for my well-being and progress. Going by the spontaneous flow of feelings, I narrated the details of my conversation with Divya. After listening to it, she started laughing and said, "This is how my mother used to advise me during the initial struggling years of my marriage." I smiled but could not say anything. After all, I too was promoted to motherhood as per her perspective.

About the Author:

Dr. Reema Chakrabarti is a teacher by profession, a researcher by interest, and a writer by passion. She works at VFSTR, Guntur (Andhra Pradesh) and often uses her narrative skills to engage students in various topics. As a writer, she has primarily written

short stories but aspires to write novels in the future. She has previously submitted her work to the India Writing Project and the Commonwealth Foundation. Her stories mainly explore relationships and time, as she believes time is the ultimate test of relationships. In addition to her fiction, Reema also translates Hindi poems and critical works into English for research purposes.