Should women be employed?

In my previous job, one of my colleagues (a 30 year old man) casually mentioned that he felt that women should not work. I was taken by surprise and asked him why he thought so. "Because women take up jobs that they can't commit to...have various excuses for not doing a good job, like in-laws, children, etc...and they often leave jobs the minute they get married...that job should ideally go a man who is equally qualified for the job and has a family to support." He was not clear whether he thought I deserved my job either because while he respected the fact that I am ambitious, he was not sure if my priorities would change once I got married. While most women would love an opportunity to wrap their fingers around his neck, I knew exactly what he meant and I could not completely fault him on his thinking.

At that time I could only try to explain the other side of the story where a woman, ambitious or not, often has to make the uncomfortable choice of choosing her family over job. Parents often expect their daughter-in-law to drop her work and serve them since the man's job is important. It is also a woman's responsibility to bring up the children. More often than not, a woman can neither leave her kids in day-care and nor will her husband take a paternity leave to help her. And after marriage, a woman is supposed to leave everything and re-locate to wherever her husband is. With so many factors stacked against her, how does an ambitious woman continue on her road to a successful career? My colleague seemed to understand what I was trying to say but did not seem convinced.

To be candid, even I have mixed feelings about this matter. There are women who start working because they have completed their studies but not found their matrimonial match yet. To add to the cold fact is that with a lack of day care centers in India and breaking joint-family system, women hit the glass ceiling very soon. Coming back to work after a break of even a year or two means that, quite often, she is already out of sync with the industry. As an employer, I would certainly have my reservations against employing a young, unmarried woman for an important post.

This means that unless support systems for working women comes up, lesbians and forced spinsters have much better chances of gaining approval and success in the long run.

Cinderella in business

Every once in a while, I come across books that have not only made sense but have altered my perspective of life. More recently, I had been facing problems with a colleague. For the life of me, I could not understand how to handle the petty squabbles that she would start or bringing up certain instances over and over again rather than focusing on the main issue that led to a smaller and insignificant issue. Though I had complete support of the top management of the company, I personally felt that dragging them into the issue would help me win the fight but would also diminish my value. I mean, if I can not handle a petty argument, how can they expect me to handle even more serious issues that require me to work out deals and contracts with people of temperaments that were as varied as the colors in a rainbow. Then someone I look up to suggested a book while we were talking about business, management and negotiations.

I read excepts online and got interested and then started reading the book online till I lay my hands on the book itself. Within a few chapters into the book, I realized how I was viewing things differently. From the situation with my colleague to how to affect my competitors. It was like my mind was filled with mini explosions with every page I turned and devoured.

This was like a Cinderella story of the business world where I was the one scrubbing the floor till my fairy godmother (apt here since my colleague who suggested the book is a woman) took me out of the hell-hole and transformed me into a business woman. Ok so since I have not read the complete book, let me say that my shimmering Ball-gown is here and the pumpkin is in the process of transforming. I, in the meanwhile, I'm practicing my moves for the Ball.

What's the name of the book, you ask. Well, let's just say that the name would be revealed to those who deserve to know.

Angry young woman

Have you seen some kids who look like they are up to no good? I was one of them once. Not that I was a troublemaker, in fact, I was a people pleaser and had all the makings of a hero. I fought for the underdogs. My mom recalls that when I was 3 years old, I pushed a 6-year-old girl off the stairs. I had had enough of this bully whose favorite pastime was to bite children much younger than her. Thankfully, what I recall as a long flight of stairs was actually about 3 stairs or so and so she survived with minor bruises. She also never came anywhere near me or "my people."

Then I recall using my girlie charms when I was 5 to have one of the guys in my class beat up another guy who loved to pull my hair. I also recall feeling very guilty that my friend was punished for starting a fight. I think it was that very day that I decided that the best way to handle such situations was to not depend on anybody to take care of it for me. I always did a better job than others anyway. So I became the martial-arts hero at an age when I had to struggle to climb my mom and dad's beds. Ok, I never learnt any martial arts but I did have a war cry that could send the best bullies scampering for shelter.

Like most parents, my parents had a very clear idea of what little girls ought to be like. It was but natural that they did what they thought was needed to make me less aggressive. Their project was far more successful than they imagined. I spent a large part of my growing up years being silent and disconnected because all I learnt was that whatever I did was offending someone somewhere and that since my opinion did not matter, I need not voice it. And so I remained silent.

When I moved out of my house for further studies, I was 22 years old and painfully shy. A series of pleasant accidents around that time made me realize that what I had in hand now was that no one here really knew me and the absence of my parents definitely was a plus point in building enough confidence in myself to be myself.

Even now, years later, I often find myself nervous around authority figures like professors, deans, principals, defense officers---the people I am forced to face each day at work. It was a choice I made. I like a good challenge and I took up my current job for that very reason---to get rid of irrational fear. Even when I face the fight-or-flee emotion during my meetings, I tell myself that I am a professional and I have to be firm in my dealings and it is OK.

This also made me think, do most women lose out on good jobs because they are raised to be mild, adjusting and non-aggressive? It does take a lot to go against all those believes that you grew up with, all those times that one is told to "be a good girl" or "girls don't fight!" and to pursue a career or doing a job that you enjoy.

I've re-learnt to be aggressive so that I could do justice to my job. My past experience of being told not be aggressive has taught me that sometimes, just sometimes, holding back is necessary. I just wish I had grown up learning how to balance out my aggression rather than pushed and threatened into silence.

The Ex box

There are a few decisions I made in the past that make me extremely proud of myself. Like the time I broke off from my first boyfriend (despite how much I thought I loved him) because when he told me his expectations of me after we got married, I realized that the man I was dating and the man I would be married to were as different as day and night. And as luck would have it, right before I broke of with him, I caught him cheating on me. That was divine timing. It made it so much easier to call things off with zero regrets.

Then after an on-and-off relationship with a megalomaniac, I decided that I had enough. It took me far too long to reach that decision but I when I did, I did so with crystal clear idea of what I wanted and that I had put up with a lot of nonsense for far too long. I had made a mistake and I was going to set things right for myself.

The third ex, the one I truly, truly fell in love with, was clearly not ready for what being with me meant. After dealing with his see-saw moods for some years I found myself as confused about him as I was when we first met. I also learned that as long as I treated him like sh!t, he would worship me and when I was being nice, he would run me down. I had enough of that very soon but then, I loved him. More importantly, I was seriously attracted to him and his bad boy personality. Then in a spate of anger or boredom he said that we were never dating. He, of course, as always, came back to me as if nothing had happened and nothing had been said but I had already packed up my emotions and was out the door.

I have no regrets about meeting them or what transpired between us. They are the reason I now know what I look for in my partner, what I am ready to put up with and what I can do without. I also know that love is not overrated. It's our expectations from the other person. I still fall in love and hard but never with the careless abandon of earlier times. I prepare myself to really see who the other person is---his strengths, his weaknesses, his quirks---and hope he tries to understand me as well.

When things go wrong, especially relationships, it's easy to blame the other person and not take any responsibility yourself. The important thing is not how you met or how long you were together...not even whether you still love the other person. The question to address is, does the other person make you feel good about yourself and do you bring the best in him/her. If the answer is no, kiss goodbye and move on. Life is too short to be with the wrong person.

Making do without "stuff"

We recently shifted to a new house, which is what inspired this post. I realized how much stuff my parents have collected over the years. It won't be fair to say "parents" since it basically my mom who hoards everything. My dad could possibly live his entire life with a pair of jeans a few shirts and a toothbrush. He disposes off anything he does not use---including cards and drawings that my sis and I had "presented" to him. I agree that we are not Deli or Piccaso but it upset us initially. Now that I'm older and wiser, I appreciate his habit a lot more. There is no mess around him.

My mom, on the other hand, always has good reasons why she should not get rid of things. The reason is "sentimental value." To be fair to her, every few months she gathers all discarded clothes that are in good condition, has them washed and ironed before donating them them to NGOs that may need them. She does that without a second thought. However, trying to get her to throw away a button that broke away from my dress when I was 5 yrs old (she meant to stitch it back) is impossible. And we have many such curiosities hidden in various drawers and cupboard shelf. These are things only she remembers where and how they were used decades ago.

After going through the tedious process of shifting all the "good stuff" and the zillion pieces of crap. Oops! I mean, "memorabilia," I decided to clear my clutter immediately. I destroyed all old personal diaries, which wasn't a difficult task since most pages were filled with accounts of how much homework I had and what I had for dinner. Yeah, so I had very poor idea of what memories I wanted to pen down. I got rid of old clothes, donated my cosmetics that I bought out of greed but never really used and everything else that I had not used (or even seen until then) for the past 2 years. I had already curbed my nasty habit of shopping for things I didn't need a few months ago so this clearing was really just the next step.

I am now certain that my own house would be minimalistic...de-cluttered and easy on the eyes. As for sentimental values, I'll save that for people and not material stuff.

This is a test...mail

Random ramblings should find home in words for who knows when in the future these very ramblings will make absolute sense.