When Women’s Day Falls on a Sunday

Annual Goddess Upgrade- Sunday Edition  

Tomorrow is International Woman’s Day (IWD), the one day in 365 when women across the globe are officially promoted to the rank of goddesses.

There will be phones pinging right from midnight with IWD messages and by the time she wakes up, she would have received 50 individual & group Whatsapp messages- flowers, breakfast trays, serene mountain houses, motivational messages, GIFs, quotations in glitter fonts.

Last year I even Googled what ‘A woman is like a tea bag’ means. I still have the same doubt; after all, a tea bag works only when dipped in hot water.  

She’ll scroll through them replying all with the folded hands emoji and sometimes copy-paste, ‘Thank you, same to you,’ while she tiptoes into rooms to check who is awake and expecting their morning tea.

Yet tomorrow is a Sunday. And Sundays are supposed to be relaxed days for the family, a day traditionally devoted to rest, family, and slightly more complicated cooking. That means the appreciation may be louder than usual.

The work probably will be too.

Everyone wakes up late, has a few cups of tea/coffee before choosing whether to have brunch or breakfast & lunch, both elaborate, with their favourite pulao, dosa, stuffed parathas, gajar ka halwa, mushroom omelette. Then they sit back, talking, making other plans for the day or life in general and appear at the dining table when and as they please.

On weekdays the family is dispersed with tiffins duly packed, to offices, schools, shops, various workplaces, but Sunday is the time everybody’s watch moves slow.

Sometime during that meal, somebody will remember it is IWD, and a rose or a gift, probably a useful kitchen tool, something thoughtfully selected to help her perform her duties more efficiently, will be given to the woman of the family. Then a member would advise, “Ma, it is your day today, you should not work so much.” Another will pipe in, “Par ek chai aur toh pila hee do (But please, make us one more cup of tea anyway)”.

The empowered woman (Henceforth referred to as EW, for convenience.) will put a few more cups of water on to boil.

The husband, a son or daughter might even offer to help or cook. This is a generous gesture that usually requires EW to remain in the kitchen anyway, answering technical questions.

The conversation then usually goes like this- “X kahan rakha hai/Khatm ho gaya? /Ab is ke baad kya karna hota hai? /Nahin, is mein to kuchh gadbad hai, aap aa kar dekho?” “Rehne do, main hee bana deti hoon.” (“Where is X kept?/Is it finished? /What is to be done after this?/ No, there is something wrong with this, you come & see.” “Leave it, I will make it.”)

EW stays quiet she knows if she says something now, it will become slightly radioactive.

It will be followed by a discussion on how to celebrate her day even as EW clears the table, sets things aside and gives instructions to the maid. If the maid has her Sunday off, then EW also must do all the housework. The maid too has heard it is her big day today, but she is not entirely clear what benefits are included.

The EW’ll be declared Lakshmi, Durga, Saraswati, Annapurna, all rolled into one. Each goddess manages only one department. Now, being the symbol of prosperity may not be much work, but symbolizing knowledge (helping in weekend homework or exam prep), satiating hunger (Sunday family meals) all with strong patience, might become the roadblocks in celebrating her as the empowered woman.

Husbands will circulate messages & old photos of My strength-The Woman in my Life.

Meanwhile, what will the workplace authorities do? Ask women employees to sacrifice their Sunday & come to office to be honoured? Celebrate their liberation on Monday? Or are they already giving them half a kg of laddoos or six cupcakes each, today so that their own Sunday is not ruined?

Social organisations will host stimulating discussions where male politicians will explain how much progress women have made since their party came to power.

Office groups will forward ‘Proud to be surrounded by strong women’ messages to people who know nothing about their office politics. Company Facebook pages will display photos of female employees like rare wildlife sightings. Newspapers will have articles on Women who inspire us. Women are multitaskers. Behind every successful man…. TV channels will play ads showing army moms, achiever moms, getting teary-eyed as people salute their sacrifice or gift them jewellery.

Market enterprises will express their emotional flood through special beauty treatment sales, discounts on handbags, shoes and nail paints with the message ‘Celebrate yourself!’ The appreciation voucher is valid on March 8 only.

In some families, there might be a grandmother who has never heard of empowerment seminars. She runs the household budget, negotiates with the subziwala (vegetable vendor), instructs the electrician, decides wedding menus, and occasionally approves brides for eligible boys in the family. She has been managing systems long before management courses were invented and motivational speakers appeared on Earth.

Nobody sends her inspirational quotes. Mostly because everyone in the family is slightly afraid of her.

Sipping her evening tea with hot pyaz ke pakode (onion fritters), she makes her profound observation, “hamare zamane mein yeh sab shoshebaazi nahin hoti thee. (In our times there was no such showmanship).  

Some families by now tired of all the Holi snacks, offer to take EW out to celebrate. The restaurant staff, gone home for Holi, has not returned yet. The manager is uncertain how to handle the swarm of oversized earrings or diamond bracelets. The cooking is rushed and nobody is very happy with the food. Us din jaisa nahin hai.(It is not like that day) Looking at the bill, the EW weakly says, “Is se achcha tha ghar mein hee main bana leti (It would have been better had I cooked it at home). The family protest, “But this is your day after all.”

The family returns home. EW opens the door, planning what to pack for everyone’s lunch tomorrow, when to fix her dentist appointment. The family is tired but happy they have restored the rights to the EW among them.

As she preps the kitchen for Monday morning, the EW wonders who is more liberated, she or her friend who deposited her kids in her mother-in-law’s care and escaped for a weekend celebration.

Shaking her head to push all such thoughts away, the backbone of the family picks up the little box of balm to ask her superior half to rub on her aching back, he is already snoring.

The upgrade plan has expired, not just for her, but for all women- office women, housewives, retired women, and the famous category called -‘women who don’t work’.

                                                                                                - Anupama S Mani