Ruminations of a genie

Christmas was almost upon us and since my little one is a Christmas baby, we usually make a big deal of it.

I decided to take some help from the kids for the Christmas decorations and asked them to watch some diy videos on making stars. Obedient to my every wish my kids watched videos on how to make stars, pop up cards and heaven knows what else. By evening a ninja star which could be flung like a frisbee was ready. I had managed to compound my problems- not only had I not managed to increase the ornaments, but my lack of supervision had resulted in a weapon of mass destruction.

Meanwhile my daughter told me that I had a part of a dog’s body. Thoroughly confused and more than a little worried, I asked her what she meant? She told me since I do so much work at home I had the body part of a dog.

I had a eureka moment when I finally realized she meant I was the general dogsbody.

Since she is the self declared boss baby and my son, the big boss, that leaves the two of us fitting into our roles as genies. We are summoned when required and fulfill the tasks assigned to us. Once they get to their teen years, I'm sure they will figure out a way to trap us into bottles as well.

As part of my assigned menial role of ferrying the kids around to their various activities, I was stuck watching my elder one taking riding lessons. His trainer feeling a little sorry for my position at the bottom of the totem pole engaged me in conversation. I had a twenty minute chat with him in which he explained to me that women in his hometown in Rajasthan were homebound. His sisters had to discontinue their education after the tenth standard as “you know the world around is not good!” He further explained that if an unmarried girl needed to go out she had to be accompanied by her brother, sister in law or mother! I exclaimed that girls’ existence was comparable with a prisoner’s. He grinned wryly and said “a married woman also lives a life like that, she is only allowed to go out twice a month”

For these men, their female family members are their possessions. Their honour is linked to the girls’ virtue. I smiled politely at him knowing that there was no way I would ever be able to change societal conditioning.

If he thought he had brightened my day, he had miscalculated, for it brought a despondency in me that the more things change, the more they seem to remain the same.

I remember a discussion at the hospital, I once worked at, between a female and male colleague of mine, both of whom were Muslims. The discussion centred around the need to wear a burkha. My friend, who herself did not wear a burkha, rationalized that it was a respectful way of living to prevent men from being tempted into lecherous thoughts by seeing the female anatomy. Our male colleague retorted, ‘if the purpose is to shield men from libidinous thoughts, wouldn't it be more effective to blindfold them?” More power to him!

I'm waiting for a time when all men think like that and realize that protecting their women is linked with modifying male behavior rather than suppressing girls.

Till such time I will revel in my position in my house as the resident slave. I realize my slavery comes from love rather than a lack of power.