All I Need is Me!

As soon as I was born, I was plagued with a syndrome that put me in a semi-sight state. 

It was the Approval seeking syndrome. 

I yearned earlier on to seek the love and adulation of my parents, cousins and relatives. 

To my chagrin, I realised there were some inherent flaws that I couldn't change. 

I was dark skinned. I was short. I was Myopic. I had thick glasses. 

My mother was already ashamed to her bones for having birthed me. For few years I was apologetic. I sat for hours figuring out what to do with myself so that I could scratch out all these seeming deviancies from me. I deeply sought love and to reduce their shame and disgust when they glanced at me. 

My maternal relatives carried the burden more and felt that a dark-skinned, short girl with thick glasses was indeed a curse on my poor mother. My paternal relatives were indifferent and apathetic. They chose a better option of ignoring the very existence of this puny girl. 

Naturally, the onset of Adolescence was a painful realisation that I had no place in this world. There were no pupularity contests to win. My place seemed in the corner of every space I inhabited. 

When I was 17, they took to me a quack who claimed to miraculously cure my high numbers. She did not, but I grabbed this opportunity to Lie. 

Lie that I could indeed see! 

I couldn't! My numbers were higher than -14 in both eyes. 

This one decision was liberating somehow. 

It brought me a realisation that I could live on my own terms, devising my own strategies to survive even with 40% eye sight. They called it a Miracle. 

For me, it indeed was. 

It gave satisfaction on my mother's face that with spectacles gone, I would find a groom easily. 

My dad felt, he no longer, had to bother about answering the maternal lot about me and my dubious future as (wrongly) predicted by them.

They stopped bothering me. 

What Relief! Utter and sheer bliss. I would find myself visiting each quack who promised an eye cure. 

I went along, for I wanted their approval. 

Why was it such an uproar, no one dared to ask? This last piece of Quackery became my manna! 

Yes, it cost me 22 years of semi-blindness but it also showed what deep reserves of will power one can have! 

I learned to rebel from thereon. As they believed the Lie inspite of the gaping evidence of me poring and peering into each book I read, I realised the fact that 'One has to take charge of who one is, what one wants, and be ready to face the necessary consequences!' 

My body was mine and I will do what I want with it, was my learning that moment. 

I learned to live on my own terms from thereon. 

I questioned ruthlessly. I rebelled fearlessly and took decisions to bring autonomy into my life. Few junctures were painful but Self Reliance and Determination pulled me on. 

At 21, I took up a job. The annual assesment rated me as the Best in their bouquet. Yet the Head was unhappy. For I had directly thwarted an order while others complied. Though I was hired as a psychologist, I was expected to decorate their lobby and find carpenters. I refused. My work, I was willing to do, but this was outside my skill-set as well as the job requirement. In our country, the 'Yes ma' ams! ' do well. I somehow was not in that category, much to my delight! 

They gave me an ultimatum to resign or' We will ruin your career!' I looked in the eye and asked them to give the worst work experience letter they could type. I won't resign. It was their decision to terminate my services and they better stuck to it. My career is my responsibility. They threatened, intimidated, urged, pleaded. Finally they terminated the services as I was a temporary placement for two years. However they had to send in a polite, technically sound Work Experience Letter. 

I have never taken a job after that! I have been on my own, setting my rules, exploring my skills, earning my own money and being Self-employed all the two decades post this incident. 

I got to explore so many of my sides as a result of foraying on my own. Besides I answer to no one but myself for all the ups and downs. 

When I gave birth to my baby 18 years back, fates queerly handed a unique situation. My in-laws took over our work space taking advantage of my ailing husband. With a child of ten days, I had a choice. Beg, plead, exhort the in-laws to have mercy on us. Or, go to work with a baby suckling onto my breast. 

Who would give me a job in those circumstances? I had decided to not work under anyone. 

I took up my husband's coaching class. I had no clue how to teach any subject. With a flailing baby, tired body I had to make a vital decision again. 

I did. I have not looked back since. From being homeless to owning a flat in Mumbai city. I learned to draw on my deeper reserves, give up dependence, victimhood and Rise up to Live on my own terms. My rules, my turf. If a, student left, it was my financial loss. I learned from my mistakes. If a student joined through referral, it was my gain. I learned from it too. With my eye sight dim, I had to draw deep, deep, deep personal will to check every handwriting, every spelling error. 

As I accomplished payments each year I learned to depend on myself. I became fiercely independent and followed only rules and procedures that made sense to me. 

I had learned to vanquish the approval seeking bug within me. For it made one vulnerable to people's Unreasonable demands and antics. It twisted you into pretzels making you do what you don't want to do most times.

 

When the baby was born, I found another inconsiderate dependency on the masseuse. She was unhygienic and irregular. I had just joined work. Some ten days had passed. One day with her and I balked, for my baby cried crazily. Why shouldn't bathing be a nurturing time? Why does it have to be so barbaric? 

My maternal clan warned. Only masseuse can do it. 

The fierce rebel raised her hand,

'No! I will do it!' I did. From thereon, I and my baby cooed and sighed during massages and warm baths. My baby never cried during the bath hour. Yes, it made me tired. Yes, it added to my chore list. But hell! That is what living on your own terms means. When you want something, you carve it out for yourself. You do not live in a Complaint mode or victim mode of none listens to me. 

I listen to myself. I change my circumstances. I do. 

I did not wish to miss out on a single milestone of my children and so took courageous decision of keeping them with me while I worked. The striving was to strike a balance between work life and being a parent. Yes, it was super-tumultuous, but it was worth it. My children became privy to my tiredness, to my brilliance too. They saw me manage work. They saw me reach out to them too. They saw me cook for them. They saw me eat with them too. They saw me shedding tears. They saw to it they wipe them too. They became my resource and till date they are! 

To accept supremacy of parental tutelage also meant to divide kids into religious grounds. Our marital set up being inter-faith, we had to work towards an objective non imposing religious environment. So a decision again had to be taken to let go off privileges to seek out goals of neutrality. Children could choose once they were adults. Their childhoods had to be kept off the ritualistic bias. We courted wrath from our elders and loss of privileges and inheritance. As we see today a strong, global mindset in our progeny we smile with satisfaction. We too have taught them to live on their own terms and not follow dictums written centuries back. 

At the juncture of inheritance too, we had to give up the privileges for we refused to bow to rules that made no sense to us. 

Since I did not make it to their favoured lists, I lost lot of inheritance benefits. Still it was a freedom gained at a lesser price. I was under no obligation to please anyone to get anything. 

All that I need, I will create. This simple demand from myself has yielded rich dividends. All I need is myself. 

As kids grew, schools seem to add little to their knowledge. Dependence on school is a mandate in our country. Again the rebel quietly asked 'Can this dependence be avoided?'

'Can my children not have freedom and knowledge together?'

Oh, Yes! HOMESCHOOLING! It meant swimming against the current. It meant insourcing children's education!

Why not?

The Last six years have seen us homeschool our children with amazing amount of autonomy, freedom and explorarion. Their talents are diverse, at 19 the elder one is already an earning member of the society. The younger too, multi-talented and offering workshops as theatre artist. He aspires to be a Canine Behaviourist someday.

The last on the list to live on my own terms is a humorous episode lived out by my own progeny. 

We are dependent on housemaids to keep our house clean. In order to do that, we court a lot of attitudinal nonsense from the housemaids. Their errant and dictatorial ways are historic. They come at their own time, demand special ingredients, demand hike in pay, appeal to skip work due to silly reasons, command salary in the first week of month. The work is not satisfactory. 

My 13-year old, one fine day questions, 

'Do we really need to put up with this?' , 'All she does, we can do it too!', 'If we let go of her, we will have more freedom to do our morning activities with ease.', 'We don't have to live in terror of her coming and we running around for cover, so she pretends she is cleaning?'. 

Keen observations revealed their sloppiness. Cute appeals of self-reliance reflected what their mum had done all her life. 

Live on your own terms. 

We gave her full salary, wished her Adieu and have been maid free for two months now. 

Mornings are pleasant. We don't adjust tea time with her arrivals or late entries. We all clean the house in turns and house is sparkling. A kind of relaxed energy serenades the house. The kind when you are no longer under any subjugation or control. 

The kind when you are living on your own terms, doing your own thing, when you want it, how you want it. 

Life then, has been a quirky experience. Each situation offering Dependence and acceptance of rules made by others or Independence and Creation of changing circumstances to follow your own Rhythm. A world filled with no external control, no manipulation, no giving up of your own power. 

Claiming your life in all its beauty and the Mantra. 

I am All that I need! 

I am the Master of my Fate. 

I am the Captain of my Soul! 

#AmWriting 

-Sonnal Pardiwala.