My darling daughter,
On this day eighteen years ago, I lay in the hospital, utterly overwhelmed. I had gone into labour unexpectedly. My gynaecologist had not yet reached the hospital as it was 5.30 am in the morning. You were in a tearing hurry to come out into the world. The doctor who was on night duty scurried about in panic and urgency; It was a natural childbirth (but God—I had to have stitches which I won’t freak you out with now).
‘Are you qualified enough to handle my baby?’ I thundered at the doctor, in throes of my labour pain.
‘Yes m’am,’ she replied.
When they told me I had a baby girl, I wept in joy. When you are hoping, wishing and wanting something so badly, it is an incredible and a magical moment, when the wish is granted.
But the nurses on duty that night didn’t know this.
‘Don’t worry, you can try for a boy next time,’ the nurses said.
‘I ALREADY HAVE a boy. I soooo badly wanted a GIRL,’ I yelled through my tears.
This, my daughter was your welcome into this world. Where people presume girl-children are not welcome. That somehow boys are superior.
Do you know my darling, that even to this day, on an average, 2332 female foetuses are aborted on a daily basis? Studies vary in this regard—but numbers are alarming, even if you consider the possibilities in the lower range. One group estimates that 10 million female foetuses have been aborted since 1990's. We’re in a country where girls are treated as ‘lesser’ and where they have to fight to even take birth.
You had no idea of any of this while growing up. You were (and still are) the baby of the family. Your older brother, your father and I doted (and still dote) on you. Looking back, my friends tell me that they don’t remember a time when you were not perched on my hips. You refused to get off. I had to carry you everywhere. I would cook, walk, shop---all of it with you on my hips. You didn’t want to stay in the baby-sling or the baby-stroller like your brother did. You decided that mom’s hips make a good sofa and that was your rightful place. If I tried to make you walk, you would scream and yell, till I picked you up again. You won that battle, hands down.
You had no idea of any of this while growing up. You were (and still are) the baby of the family. Your older brother, your father and I doted (and still dote) on you. Looking back, my friends tell me that they don’t remember a time when you were not perched on my hips. You refused to get off. I had to carry you everywhere. I would cook, walk, shop---all of it with you on my hips. You didn’t want to stay in the baby-sling or the baby-stroller like your brother did. You decided that mom’s hips make a good sofa and that was your rightful place. If I tried to make you walk, you would scream and yell, till I picked you up again. You won that battle, hands down.
Before you learnt to read, your favourite book used to be The Jungle Book and you made me read it so many times (must be more than a thousand?) that you memorised it. Then you would pretend to read it. Your father was astounded. He thought you were actually reading it at the age of two. You even knew where to turn the pages. I still smile at that memory and I can still recite the Jungle Book, and I am sure you can too.
My favourite childhood memory of you is scaring the neighbour’s son Adi, with a knife when you were just 3 and a half. You managed to fool the house-help by telling her that I was asking for a knife. Then you hid it behind your back, and slowly made your way out, where you were playing with Adi. The next thing I know, I hear a ear-shattering, terrified wail and footsteps fading away. Adi had run away screaming in fright.
Apparently, Adi had made a negative comment about our family. You asked him to shut up and he refused to. So you decided to do something about it. After smuggling the knife out, you threatened him saying his limbs will float in the canal outside, if he dared utter another word. Though I did my mommy duty and told you it wasn’t a good thing, secretly I was proud. ‘That’s my girl!’ I thought.
In school, for the annual school day you were chosen as emperor Ashok, the lead role in the play. It was a befitting role and you played it to perfection. You had a natural flair for theatre and dance. I am proud of the trophies you won at the inter school dance competitions. I am also proud of all your MUN (Model United Nations) achievements where you have won best delegate so many times. You also made it to the school basketball team, and the school band, where you were the drummer.
You are a born leader. People gravitate towards you. You know how to manage people. You are so good at what you do, that you got into college at 16. Right after class ten. Your portfolio was incredible--so outstanding that you straight away joined college, skipping class 11 and 12! In India we call it a ‘double promotion.’
You earned it; it was your dream college and you left home at 16. To pursue your dream.
I let you go. I knew I had raised you to be strong, and even though I was worried, and sad, I knew you would be fine. I knew I had to let you go, and so I did.
And how you have blossomed and bloomed! I absolutely LOVE your work. I am very proud of you, and tell people proudly when they ask me about you.
On your eighteenth birthday, my darling, I want to tell you a few things (which you already probably know, yet I want to say it):
On your eighteenth birthday, my darling, I want to tell you a few things (which you already probably know, yet I want to say it):
1. NOBODY has the right to tell you what to wear, and what is ‘okay’ or not ‘okay.’ No one gets to decide this. Dress to please yourself!
2. Your body is your business. The society doesn’t get to tell you what to do with it. You do not need the society’s approval for your weight or height or colour of your skin. Don’t ever be ashamed of your body. Be proud.
3. You can achieve ANYTHING! Do you know women were not even allowed to work till the Second World War? It was only as recently as 1960’s that women entered the workforce in large numbers When I wanted to join the Indian Air Force as a pilot, back in 1990, women were not allowed! I was outraged. Now the rules have changed.
4. Don’t even bother about marriage and kids. Build your career first.
5. Whatever you do, be financially independent. Depend on NO ONE. Let no one tell you where to live, where to work, where to go and what to do.
6. If you do fall in love, wait it out. The best test of a relationship is TIME. You can have a great relationship without marriage, and you can have a marriage and still not have a relationship. WAIT and see what unfolds. Then decide.
7. Travel, my darling, Travel. Go see the world. Explore. Meet new people.
8. Read my baby, read. That is the ONLY way to grow your mind. I know you do read a lot, but try to up the ante. Try to stretch it a bit more than what you think is achievable. You will be so surprised to see how much MORE you can achieve.
9. Be kind. Be kind to everyone you meet. Be sweet and polite, like you are. Don't ever change.
10. Make art every day. Do things that make you happy. Spend some time alone. Listen to music. Sit in silence. Walk in nature.
There are a few hundred thousand more memories I have with with you and as you know, I have written them all in a book, which I have been writing in, even before you were born. Those are treasured ones, and I will probably gift that book to you on your twenty-fifth or maybe even later. I cherish the time I spend with you. How we laugh! I love the easy relationship we have where we can discuss anything--men, boyfriends, movies, TV series, art, life--just anything. I love how we can now trade clothes and exchange movie recommendations.
Today my precious, I wish I was with you; But since I am not, I am writing this to tell you that you light up my life. People tell me ‘Your daughter is lucky to have you as a mom.’ You know what I tell them? ‘Oh, but I am luckier I have her.’
I love you.
Be UNSTOPPABLE.
Be YOU.
All my love
Mom.
Ps: my book The Rule Breakers is dedicated to my daughter Purvi who turns 18 today.
Also you can read all TRUE stories from my life (especially about my kids when they were smaller) in my book Love A Little Stronger
