As a teenager my eyes twinkled with dreams…dreams to be a journalist, a social activist. An urge to change the world; stand against all the wrongs of the society, debating, competing and winning were the way of life. Not knowing what life had to offer, I was a true wanton at heart.
A short episode of life that I will always remember, it was my first semester of MBA. I remember my horrifying reaction when I saw a class fellow walking in wearing Bridal makeup & accessories like chura (bangles), kumkum and bichiya. Unlike others who had silly smiles on their faces, I only sympathized with her thinking “oh gosh, her career is finished. With chains of household responsibility how far she could fly! Why her family had to wither her wings, god forbid, I am not in the shoes of the poor girl”.

Who knew that right a year after I would enter the premises in the very same way? Being always an orator and fly-high kind of a person, initially I was too ashamed to face my classmates, juniors and teachers. Many staring eyes made me believe that marrying at 23 was a crime. It was almost a week of inner fight, a duel between who I was and whom I always wanted to be. And one fine day, I stood up with determination & stepped in proudly the Corridors of college with all the visible proofs of a happy married life.
Focussed to be this utopian magazine woman with six hands! My one hand gripped on to the cooking pan, second one to the laptop, third to the broom, fourth to the shopping cart and the other two responding to the call of the hour. Churning myself from six in the morning to twelve in the night, the best came out of me.
It was not easy to be disciplined, to manage all the facets regularly- work life, household chore, quality time with family, continuing studies…sure my untiring attitude attracted the support of my very traditionally rooted family. My Commitment to the new family made my life partner to stand by my side in all situations. Today after two years of my marriage I am blessesed with my daughter Idha – the insight of my life. But believe me in the start I felt it was the end of my career.
Amidst the innocent cries of my baby, household calls, a loving husband to take care of, my aspiration and work life was automatically drifted low on the priority list. Yet the urge to be complete made it all happen.
Today while ticking the to-do checklist when I retire to bed & unclutching my hair, I have a smile spread across my face. As I write this with my right hand, I am lapping my baby to sleep…with my left hand free for Idha to clutch on to my fingers.
The Indian way of living never stopped me from dreaming, and realising those dreams. I was just too prepared to work hard. I believe responsibilities don’t shackle us; it’s the loss of hope and competence that stops us.

By KIRTY A HARIT
Director Kanvas Society, NGO – Jaipur
Centre writer, Blue Doodle Media House
Freelance Writer (Rajasthan Patrika)