When I was a kid, I was known as my Mom's daughter. I look exactly like her.
'Arre, ye to pucca replica of mom.' They quipped.
I squirmed.
I wanted to be me.
As I stepped into school, my brilliant siblings overshadowed me completely.
So I was known as my brother's sister. He, several years older, studied in tenth. 'Oh, you are HIS sister?' Folk would ask me in wonder.
Yeah, so what? I wanted to shoot back.
Then, when I thought I was about to make my mark somewhat, my kid sister took them by surprise.
With her multiple talents and higher intelligence, I was relegated to just being my sister's sister.
'She has a lovely voice,' they remarked.
Thanks.
But hello, I do have a voice too! Who doesn't have? Could one speak without a voice?
So I was known in the colony as either my brother's sister or my sister's sister!
I finally got married and tried hard to break out of this mould.
But a new problem arose.
Now I became well known as V's wife!!
'What a gem of a person he is!'
Oh no.
What about me?
Maybe the birth of my kids would give me a fresh lease of life, I thought.
And I waited patiently for them to be born.
But alas!
I now began to be called A's mom or J's mom!
So who am I really?
I mean do all women go through this predicament throughout their lifetime? Or is it just me?
I dread becoming a white haired grandma, sitting on my rocking chair, several years from now...and folk calling me my grandson's grandma!
Hello! Can I please be known as plain me please???
Heartfelt gratitude to the WB family.
At least here I have my own identity.
Mallu Melody..
With both capital 'M'!
(P.S- who knows one day they may be known as a famous writer's brother/sister/hubby!!!)
