Write for Siya
If you can write, you should do so on SiyaWoman.
Send us a note on Contact@SiyaWoman.com.
(Contd from part 1)
“Did I just hear Jia say those words again? Is she making compromises like I did?”
Women were and still are accustomed to having their dreams shattered and wings clipped. I went back in time…the rewind button on my memory tape took me back to my teenage days. Being part of a joint family, I had set guidelines and norms to be followed. I wasnât too ambitious, but yes, there was something brewing inside of me, which was preparing me to dream big.
We had a family business of garments, and the men in the house ran the show. I was eager to know more. But, that was always discouraged, especially by my Mother, who knew the norms of the house. My Grandfather didnât like women of the house talking freely to their husbands in front of everybody or discussing things about the family or the business out in the open. This rule was not only for the Daughters-in-law but also for the Daughters.
One of my Aunts wanted to explore her painting skills through our business, but she was never given an opportunity. My Uncle kept ignoring her requests because no one dared to defy my Grandfather. Amidst all this, I still had a growing interest to help in the administration of our business.
And, this was because I loved numbers. I was good at Math and wanted to help our business. But, I never had the guts to speak about it to anyone. Once, I had mentioned it to my Mom, and she had warned me not to bring up the topic ever again.
Nevertheless, I still looked out for that hidden opportunity. One night, I saw my Dad working late, at his desk. I tiptoed inside and stood behind his chair. He was busy with some calculations. I noticed the crumpled papers on the floor near the dustbin. He was trying to match some figures, I gathered.
âCan I help you, Baba?â My voice shocked him out of his reverie.
âWhat? What are you doing here so late in the night?â he inquired.
âNothing, I was just passing by. Can I help you with those calculations?â I asked.
âNo, No, how can you help? You wonât understand anything.â He looked and sounded confused.
âLet me try, at least.â I almost barged into the papers. My Dad tried to stop me, but I was adamant. This was my opportunity, and I was not letting it go.
Swiftly, and skillfully, I understood the basics of what he was trying to achieve, and yes, I could match the balance sheet for him. He looked at the papers and then, looked at me.
I was prompt in asking, âCan I help you in your work…whenever you are stuck?â
He knew what I was hinting at, but he also knew, he would not be able to fulfil my wishes.
Years passed, and I secretly kept helping Dad. My Grandfather passed away. Being the elder son, my Dad took over the reins of our business. I saw some hope now. My Dad gradually inducted me into the business, one small step at a time. He did it so tactfully that no one could oppose. My brothers were already managing it all. But, I knew I was better than them.
When my Dad died, he had entitled me to a share in the business. He was the only one who saw my potential. This was an opportunity that God had given me, and He wanted to see if I could fight it out. But I couldnât.
My brothers kept me away from the office with many excuses. Finally, they got me marriedÂ before I could complete my education, and they coaxed me to forfeit my share as well.
The night before leaving my house, I cried in front of my Dadâs picture, âThey cannot do this to me.â His silence mourned with me too.
With that memory hitting hard like a hammer, I was transported back to my present. I could still hear Jia fighting over the phone. Did someone take away something that she deserved too? Hope she has the courage to fight it out, and she doesnât give up like I did. I promise to support her and hope my son, Atul supports her too.
I wished my Mom had supported me when I needed it the most. Times have changed, but have I? I wanted my daughter, Tulika to have an independent life, and most importantly, not to shy away from pursuing her talent. But, as a mother, have I supported her always in her dreams?
Suddenly, Sana said, âWhat is this, Grandma?â
Oh, my God, how did she find this?
I almost snatched the diary from her hands, and said, âSana, itâs nothing. Go, your Mom is calling you.â Jiaâs call came as a rescue.
I looked at the diary, and thought, this is a part of my life, Sana. This is my dream, which I didnât give up. This is my biggest escape.
The letters insideÂ sighed. Each letter was addressed to someone important in my life. I started writing after my Dad died. And somehow, I managed to keep this passion alive. I managed to hide the letters and keep them safe from everyone as I knew no one cared. No, not even Naresh, my late husband.
Some day, I will let you guys free, some day.
The doorbell rang. I could hear Tulika screaming and howling, âMa, Ma, where are you?â Hope this time, it isnât worse than the last. Hope, Tulika doesnât blame me for all this…
(Read Part 3 to know what happens next)
AVERAGE READER RATINGS>
RATE THIS ARTICLE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
As a believer of 'live & let live', Debolina likes to enjoy the little things of life. As a person who enjoys reading, writing and interacting with people, she finds it exciting to write about emotions, experiences, stories, lifestyle, parenting, self-improvement, current affairs and pretty much everything that affects a common man's life. Debolina is an ex-HR and Corp. Comm. professional, wife to a wonderful husband, mother to a lovely daughter; and a freelance content, creative writer, content developer and blogger. She strives to ignite the power of thought with a whole new perspective. Debolina shares her thoughts at: debolinacoomar.wordpress.com
RECOMMENDED FOR YOU
Previously, we have seen that Shamli, Meera, Imli, Debashish and Mr and Mrs Sharma were struggling with different problems in life. Imli runs away from the NGO shelter she was living in and ends up meeting Meera in a park. A desolate Meera talks to Imli and eventually decides to adopt her. Everything was running...
âSome hearts understand each other, even in silenceâ â probably this goes from a mother to another. No one understands a mother better than another mother. Here is a story about one such mother, who went out of her way to help the âmother of all mothersâ, our very own Mother Nature. Manvel Alur is...
Shamli was sad. She was sitting in the fields looking at the sky. It was that time of the year when the entire village is waiting for the rains else the damages might be irreversible. Some committed suicide, some sold their land, some families left and some decided to stay and fight. Every day brought...
(Contd from Part 5) With the thoughts of her free will strengthening her weakened heart, which was buried by mourning all the sadÂ memories, Shami also felt a drop of tear in the corner of her eyes. But, she knew that this time, it was happiness that moistened her eyes, and her soul. Abruptly, she got...
(Contd from Part 3) âHow did he get hurt?! You stay at home all day! Still, you cannot look after him? What do you do all day?â my husband screamed at me when Atul was 5 years old and he fell from the sofa. He was jumping on it and by the time I went...
1 min read
I dreamt of swaying and sliding in the air, forever, Fulfilling my dreams of expressing myself and succeeding in every endeavour. I loved dancing on the ropes, which tangled my different emotions, The ropes playing with the rhythm of my body works like a magic potion. But, one day, the ropes I loved shattered my...
Fiona Fernandez was a blessed child.Â She had loving parents like Joseph and Erica, a healthy childhood, good values and everything she could want from life. She had a favourite doll Suzie, who she loved very much and carried along wherever she went. Suzie was her best friend in both, happiness and sorrow. Christmas was...
Editor’s Note: We begin a new section this week with a spotlight on published authors within our SiyaWoman Writers’ Community. We asked these fantastic ladies to tell us some aspect of their experience that was most memorable. This is their answer in their own words. Enjoy! Sometimes in life, you feel that you are playing...
(Continued from Part I) Who were Andie and Miranda, and why were they here? Andie, as Ajay was called, was the son of Mr. Mallickâs cousin, Binoy Mallick. Andie had been settled in the US for a long time, after marrying Martha, his American girlfriend of a few years. His father had practically disowned him...
Mr. Bagchi, the Secretary of the Sharad Samman Committee was looking at the list of Pujas to visit this year for the competition. When he came to the category of Bonedi Barir (affluent family) Pujas, he promptly ticked the first five. His brisk hand halted when he came to the sixth name â Mallick Bari....
Mr. and Mrs. Iyerâs only son, Rajnikanth married Rajni in a simple yet elegant marriage ceremony. Rajnikanth was leaving for his MBA course soon and they wanted him to marry before that. Iyers were not orthodox people, but they followed the traditions and rituals to perfection. Rajni was in her late twenties, and the match...
âKuhu, good morning!â She wished for a Motherâs kiss in the morning. It was 4-year old Kuhuâs first day at school. She had tried sleeping early the previous night, but her excitement in the conversation with her Mom, looking up at the night sky, kept her awake. âKuhu, good morning!â This time she knew the...
Maya dreaded those eyes whenever she walked down the lane to her house. Ever since she had shifted to this new locality, Maya felt an eerie feeling about everything around her. She felt as if the entire place was haunting her â the open windows of the houses, the people staring and chattering, the kids...
If you can write, you should do so on SiyaWoman.
Send us a note on Contact@SiyaWoman.com.
How would you rate this article
We are sorry to have disappointed you. Could you tell us what went wrong?
Thank You !