Feminine yet exclusive. Mothers, but can they not take a break? Wives, but playing singles that night. I was with a baby and was taken by surprise. A lot had changed on how urban women chose to hang out. I hadn’t got the memo right, had I ? Again, I was that little girl in school who once wore a color dress on the 4th September instead of the 5th. 

What had been music, was blaring AWKWARD in bold!

Being a new mother is lonely. You are like a cow in stagnant water, drenched in mud. You complain that it’s muddy, yet you don’t want to pull yourself out. Surrounded with flies; you itch, you squirm, you watch the sun set but you stay still until a dog barks to make you mobile. Cleaning the pool of overturned milk that you just pumped, your haggard self moves to run a bath. As you hear the last drops from shower drip against the silence of a sleeping baby, you look forward to the cacophony the new prospect might hold. You start to get ready. Why should you be left behind! 

I was playing ball in a field and a group of aunties sitting on bricks and sand were having a chat. Wearing sarees, a stout figure neared towards them holding a brick in her hand. She brought her own to rest her derrière! As their kids went out to play, they sat with their besties to take the stock of the day. That small window they got was cherished before their husbands returned from their offices. 

When I shifted to a humble society, I often watched women in maxi dresses, pajamas having a chat sitting on planks and benches near the parking area. One day, I smiled and sat with them while my daughter played with other kids. A step ahead than the previous, the dresses changed with generation but the camaraderie remained the same. But it’s Bengaluru! In the other half lies a heady cocktail of shimmery, elite and feisty bunch. 

If the ladies night had a slogan it would have read thus: 

‘I know my worth, I know my place, I know what I want and I need a break!’ 

These women took a dive but also learnt how to swim to the surface. Unlike the aunties of yesteryear’s, they weren’t subsumed in just fulfilling marital obligations and maternal responsibilities. Their needs and desires were valid and was not looking for a window. It was met on a par with a man’s. Shaken to have seen the textbook definition of assertiveness come to life, I collected myself to lie back and reflect in the comfort of familiarity. While a mother in me was sad and rejected, the woman in me felt prized to have had a peek at the other side while it lasted.