Amirdham

Me and my mom hate my name. My father was the one who chose it. After all, he was “the head of the family”, and what he says is what goes, because he works tirelessly for the family. Vendamirdham means, “the sweet nectar that isn’t wanted”. As the youngest of 7 children, my parents really didn’t plan for me! I was always bullied because of my name.

As I grew up, I learned that as a girl, I have to be pretty, nice, and obedient to be loved and accepted by everyone. So, I learned how to act like a girl (Meike Schalk et al.). I dressed up nicely, made beautiful ornaments, and wore makeup like they do on television. Although I had brown skin, I was recognized for the good traits that I had mastered, and people stopped mocking me for my name and my dark skin. In fact, some even suggested a change of name. But, my father rejected their proposition since “it's too much trouble”.

As a boy, one does whatever he wants, even if he isn’t very nice and obedient. It’s also the case with my brothers. They always pick fights, break things, and trick everybody. Yet, they are unfairly favored by everyone. They even got to go to school, where they learn many things.

I asked my father if I could go to school. But, he said, “I can’t afford it. Besides, you should learn to do household work”. I didn’t want to do household work, but he said that I wouldn’t be able to get married if I didn’t. “If I study at school and work, I can make money. I won’t even need to get married”. He angrily slapped me and told me, “It’s your duty for the sake of giving birth to you to marry and bring us honor. It's the reason God created females. A career gets you money, but, it's the top priority in life for girls to marry and make a family. It's not a girls’ place to be schooled or to work. You can’t do it as you’re frail. So stop being delusional… you’re lucky you’re a girl. You just stay home, doll up, and chat around while we have to do all the hard work for you. You’re treated like a treasure. You freeload on our hard-earned items and depend on us. You live a privileged life. Don’t be selfish and unempathetic”.

I cried hard that day, and occasionally, his angry words taunt me in my dreams. It was the first time I had made anyone angry, and it made me fear my father. To regain his favor, I had to keep up my “girly” act and do some household chores. I should compromise that much to develop a healthy relationship with my father. My mother had consoled me, saying, “He’s under pressure at work every day, and locks up his anger before his higher-ups to earn their favor to be promoted so that we can live a comfortable life. Letting out the anger in other ways like he did now is his way of relieving the pressure and reassuring himself”. That is what I was doing to gain his favor, too.

But, learning was my way of relieving the “girl pressure”. I had learned to read and write from my close friend and neighbor, Krishna. He was a great teacher, and he taught me some things he learned at school. It was great to have some knowledge. But, it was also a tiny bit displeasing because it made me stand out. The other girls would stay away from me if I said anything that showed off my literacy. It was odd to them that I seemed to take an interest in things other than beauty and neighborhood gossip.

At fifteen, I had my first period. I had to sit in a little coconut-leaf hut in a corner of our house for nine days! I wasn’t allowed to touch anyone or go outside the hut. I still don’t know why. But, I had a grand celebration in honor of my newly found womanhood afterward. I never had people celebrating me before, so it was fun. But, puberty worsened my life. Besides the usual discomfort and bodily changes, I also didn’t have pads; only some cloth that I had to wash and reuse. I was also forced to stay away and lock myself in a room every month during menstruation. They told me that periods were unclean! No one knew why, and that was frustrating. I ranted about it all to Krishna. He was the only one who understood me, listened to me, and praised me for my knowledge and curiosity.

As I grew older, we only became closer. I had a crush on him, and when I finally told him about it, he had felt the same way. The following years were bliss with him by my side although we didn’t reveal our love to anyone else out of the fear of being rejected and separated from each other. This was most likely the case because Krishna’s family was from a higher caste than mine. So, it was likely that his parents rejected me, just as my parents rejected a girl from a lower-caste family whom my brother had fallen in love with. I feared our fate, but I was in love. And as expected, when the time came to reveal our love, Krishna’s parents rejected me and we were forced to part and marry a stranger arranged by our parents. They never cared what I thought of Ravi, whom I had to marry non-consensually just because it was my “duty”.

Ravi was worse than my father and ordered me around like I was a maid. Over time, after I had my son (Vaikuntha), Ravi became more and more abusive. I feared his arrival every day from work, but I endured his abuse to withhold my family’s honor. I compromised everything I had in hopes that he would recognize my sacrifices. But, things kept worsening as he quit his job and became an alcoholic. Then, it became apparent that Ravi didn’t care about this family at all. So, I had to find a job for myself so that I could support my family and the home.

I couldn’t find a high-paying job since I did not have a formal education. So, I got a sewing job at a textile company. I read somewhere that “around 90% of the low-skilled assembly jobs that go to the Third World are performed by women (Canli and O. Martins)”. Truly, there wasn’t a single man doing the handy work at the company. There were only women working under a few male higher-ups. The pay wasn’t high, and it was hard to balance work and household chores by myself, but I must provide for Vaikuntha and fulfill my parental duties.

Ravi would occasionally come home drunk to hit me and steal the hard-earned money to buy himself alcohol. I didn’t need him anymore, but I sustained his abuse and didn’t get a divorce as it was not culturally accepted in India according to Hindu values. Vaikuntha and I would be socially isolated and frowned upon by the villagers on account of a divorce. But luckily, Ravi’s alcoholism eventually killed him. I was happily widowed and lived a free life ever after.

I am now an activist running an NGO against a range of gender stereotypes; helping people realize the inherent rules normalized in society and how they can relieve themselves of its pressures by imagining alternate, inclusive societies such as that of “exclude me in” (Meike Schalk et al.). I often wonder why my life used to be so restricted. Perhaps, if I realized the absurdity of others' expectations or if I had been born to an upper-class, atheist family somewhere in Britain, I could have been free. Perhaps if caste didn’t exist, I would be with Krishna. However, Norms directly categorize and generalize certain traits that tend to ultimately define a group of people. And the tragedies of my life arose from the norm that girls must be pretty, nice, obedient, and must marry and make a family. This mustn’t be the case. We don’t have to be nice and obedient if boys don’t. And we don’t have to marry and create a family if we don’t want to. It's our right to do as we please. So don't hesitate to be selfish for your happiness.