I have never thought of myself as a woman. I have thought of
myself as a human being, at least from the time I have been capable of
conscious decision making. So I don’t define myself as a ‘woman’ but as a
‘person’ without taking recourse to aggressive discussions on gender equality.
If I choose to overplay my womanly instincts it is my indulgence. If I display ‘manly’ inclinations, it is my
own empowerment of myself. My inner self dictates, and the greater self the universe,
answers and rewards.
It would be extremely arrogant to credit the way I have
evolved solely to my superior faculties. Behind this has been a father who has
encouraged me to sing, paint, read, ride horses, learn driving, and maybe look
for company to tour the world by road. At the same time, there has been a
mother who would have liked a more ‘womanly’ upbringing, who has despaired my
not stepping into the kitchen or observing maidenly rites. This amalgam is the
quintessential me.
Yet I have never thrown caution to the winds or tried to
prove anything to society. I have believed I am a ‘person’ first and then a
woman, and society has accorded me this recognition. At the same time, I have
not tried to ‘prove’ myself by making artificial overtures to enter the ‘male’
domain. I am not comfortable with rubbing shoulders in all male drinking bouts
though I equally love my beer or wine. Though crying in public does not come to
me naturally, the tears can flow if someone kicks a puppy on the road and can
at the same time bring me to shout at someone I could never match physically.
My actions are not governed by my feminineness but my innate humanity which has
no gender.
To my satisfaction, I have received due respect as a woman,
whether at the workplace or anywhere else where men and women interact in the
same sphere. More important, I have been a woman respected for my true worth which
has shone through the womanly facade and been given a free hand in whatever I have
done. I have also seen women who have earned the embarrassment of being treated
as a ‘woman’ in the derisive sense of the word precisely because they have
tried to capitalise on advantages expected because they are ‘women.’
I revel in being a woman who is free of the bondage that ‘womanhood’
requires, but who is not unaware of her limits. I know where danger lies and
where pitfalls await. I know there are certain limitations in ‘living’ like a
man. Yet, I have followed my passions and led a woman’s life at the same time.
I may be soft spoken and reserved, but I face nonsense with dignity and I
temper my anger with constructiveness. Neither am I a wilting lily; nor am I mannish.
I exult in the song of life, the dance of life. What is
important to me is honesty, straightforwardness, circumspection in speech and
action, altruistic motives towards others, a spirit that never says die and the
knowledge we have one life to live. Yet I am not defined by these; my persona
is contained within a nebulous bubble. It breaks and shows the old; it forms
and contains the new. The bubble constantly breaks and forms- the old leaks out
and the new comes in. Knowing these qualities, would you put me down as a man
or a woman, had I not told you?
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