Every working woman shares a common story—work-life
imbalance. No matter how much organizations try to promote work-life balance,
the reality is quite the opposite. I often wonder how women manage to stay sane
while juggling so many responsibilities.
I come from a family where both my parents were working, but
as expected, my mother bore the brunt of childcare. Have you ever wondered why
the responsibility of raising a child primarily falls on the mother? My mother
was a teacher, dealing with her share of stress at school, but she also created
her own stress at home. Her mantra? "My child must be the topper in
academics and extracurricular activities."
Since her word was final, I had no choice. I excelled in
academics and swept first prizes in everything—singing, speech, art, fancy
dress, drawing, debate, poetry... you name it. Failure was not an option. If I
didn’t win, I would either face temporary exile from the house or the wrath of
a belt.
The pressure was overwhelming for a young child, so when I
became a mother, I made a conscious decision—education would be my kids’
responsibility. We fund, they study. If they score well, it's their
achievement; if they don’t, it’s their responsibility. Unlike my consistent
report card, my children’s report cards mirrored my husband's—full of
surprises, rarely consistent.
But, of course, I inherited my mother’s genes. I, too, lose
my cool—not over grades but over behavior. My son, for instance, had a habit of
hitting others. To discipline him, I couldn’t just hit him back. Instead, I
made him stand in a corner and meditate on his actions. Sometimes, his
"meditation" would stretch so long that he’d drift off into his own
world. As a mother, I secretly loved those moments—I was saving my energy while
he was deep in thought. That practice must have helped; he is a good
storyteller and artist.
When my daughter arrived, the rulebook had to change. Unlike
her brother, who hit with his hands, she was a biter. No amount of advice or
scolding worked. That’s when my son, in a moment of wisdom, reminded me,
"Amma, make her stand in the meditation corner!"
So, I called her over and asked her to stand in the corner.
Instead of taking it as a punishment, she turned it into a fun
activity—inviting me and her brother to join her for a little "corner
chit-chat." She is now our in-house stand-up comedian.
So I was at work, while my kids had exams the next day. Over
the phone, I reminded them to study. They promised they would. When I returned
home, my house help informed me that they had hardly studied... but were glued
to the TV. So, I decided to test them. I handed them paper and pen and
announced a surprise quiz. "For any question you don’t know the answer
to," I instructed, "write a few lines about the cartoon you watched
today."
Here’s how that went:
One of my questions for my daughter was: Define ‘Tusk.’
Her response: Shinchan is a small boy who is very naughty. Shinchan never
listens to his mother.
I asked my son to define Ovules, Starch, Ecological
Balance, and Fulcrum. His definitions:
- Ovules
– Shinchan wants to play airplane with his father, but he can’t. So, he
waits for his father to come home from work.
- Starch
– Shinchan wants to eat ice cream, but his ice-cream maker is broken.
So, he calls his friends for an ice-cream party.
- Ecological
Balance – Shinchan’s mother wants to buy a new dress but doesn’t
have money. Shinchan helps her find money in the house.
- Fulcrum
– Shinchan’s friend gives him a precious thing to take care of. His
sister takes it and throws it away.
Moral of the story? When stressed, read it backward—Desserts.
Life is like a dessert—it’s sweet, it’s messy. So, savor every bite!
Nisha Kurian (O'Rodha)
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