Mundane Musings

Now that I have found my Mr. Right and have our pyar ki nishani in my life, I don’t suppose I can hope to feel the rush of blood to my brain (or is it the heart? Is that even logical?), or feel a shopaholic’s urge to pick up gifts on Valentine’s Day. Because that was exactly what had happened on 14 th February. We were well aware of the special day, but were content with a good lunch a day earlier, at a favourite restaurant without the baby, and with chocolate doughnuts to sweeten the day. Over the years with S, there had been no doubt about how I wanted to celebrate this day. And before he entered my life, I was a romantic girl sitting in front of the TV watching movies like When Harry Met Sally or Pretty Woman or Bridget Jone’s Diary with a hand placed over my pulsating heart, thinking of the things I would do to celebrate the day if I had a loved one. Yes, it was bad. The hype consumed me, making it difficult to accept the banality of existence with no place for the love to flow.

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Every year on International Women’s Day , I am faced with a dilemma – to celebrate the day or to not. It was easy when the decision was not on me as when I was working in a company. The celebrations carried on whether I liked or not. People wished me on the day and I only had to thank them politely or else in the case of loved ones, retort that we women don’t need a special day to celebrate. No thanks. We shall celebrate our womanhood on all days. Just like people feel it necessary to point out unnecessary celebrations for Valentine’s or Mother’s day or New Year’s – calling it a Western influence. Some influences we come to understand are definitely worth it. How immature I have sounded then. With age comes maturity and knowledge, and now I know not to belittle the day with a callous and uninformed mind set, when in reality a day like this should exist. It is a joke that we celebrate and feel special about ourselves every day, when actually there is evidence of the contin