How She Made A Change

There is an age old gender stereotype in India that girls cannot go to school and receive education.

“Relax. It’s going to be a son. My astrologer says�"” began our uncle Bhatia, but he was stopped by a sharp glance from my father’s part.

“Never mind.” he said.

“It better be a male child, because I am tired of raising two buffoons.” Pa said.

The offense was directed at us, I knew. My sister and myself. We could not help but wallow in our self pity in such moments. There was nothing to be done, was there? Our father always thought we were incapable of doing things beyond what he imagined. We could run a thousand miles to draw water from a well, but he thinks we cannot run a marathon. My mother can carry a 7 pound baby in her stomach but she cannot wrestle. She can cook, clean and raise children at the same time- us women, but we cannot participate in a cookery show.

“Bhatia, will it be a boy?” our father asked for the umpteenth time. This really annoyed uncle Bhatia.

“Your child will be either a boy or a girl- it depends upon what the Gods have decided. Leave it to them.”

Preach, uncle, preach!

“Even if it’s a girl, she can work for us.” uncle shrugged.

And he’s back.

“I really do hope he is qualified as a ‘he’.”

When uncle was about to retort, the nurse came out of the room, and there was pin drop silence again as Pa crossed his fingers and waited for the result of Lady Luck.

“Boy! A handsome, baby boy!”

“Yes!” our father cried, and he rolled on the floor, maddened by this moment. “Finally! A fifteen year long wait did not fail me! I have a boy child!”

 

 

We named him Ujjwal. He grew up to be a spoilt brat who consistently tormented us- the entire women population of the village, I think. He knocked over the buckets of water and gambled with the villagers at age 8. Despite his naughty behavior, our family loved him, though my mother took it more as an obligation. We sent him to the only school in the village, but he hardly did his work on time. Still, he had more privileges than us. While my sister Mira and I were to consume the leftovers of dinner, he was the first to take a bite of the food. He slept grandly in his own room, while myself and Mira lay on the crusty shags on the floor of the storeroom- our situation more worsened by adolescence.

Finally, Mira had had enough.

“I want to go to school.” she declared, and I narrow mindedly focused on trying to bring her back from Fantasyland.

“They admit only men inside the school. And you are a girl.”

“We are of a high caste!”

“That’s just a small consolation. Be thankful you can glance that way, because the tribal people in the forest do not even get to step a foot in the surroundings.”

“Very well then, if you go on and be pack mules like the women in our village, then you can never make the change you want to see.”

Amused, I asked her, “Well, step up if you dare. We are not stopping you, are we?”

Mira did not reply. I rolled my eyes and we carried on with our chores.

However the next day, when I woke up and went to feed hay to the cow, the absence of Mira was felt.

“Where did she go?” I asked my mother.

“To Varanasi for a pilgrimage, she told me.”

“And you let her go there alone? She is a woman- and to make things worse, seventeen years old!”

It seemed most unlikely to me that Mira should go to Varanasi.

“I am sure she will come back. People always return from a holy place incorporating good lessons, and if they do not, they die on the way.”

“Your rotten family beliefs!” I cursed, inwardly.

“Does Pa know about this?”

“Does he actually care to know? All he wants to see is a group of women cleaning and cooking, and we have plenty in that department- your uncle Bhatia’s 20 year old wife, and the servants employed to assist us.”

I was uncertain but believe it or not, it actually worked.

But the day was quite without much event, and of course I did not expect any. Without Mira stumbling over piles of hay, and making jokes about the woman next door with an unfeminine height.

But that evening, there was big news.

“A tall man-boy named Agni joined our class today.”

As soon as the words slipped out of Ujjwal’s mouth while I was serving dinner at home, I was filled with so many questions that I almost knocked over a bowl of curry which I was holding. Nevertheless, I received severe reprimands from Pa for my ‘carelessness’ but it was not a matter of concern right then. Agni sounded awfully familiar. That was when it struck me. Once when we were doing the disgusting labor of cleaning the cow’s shed of dung, Mira had told me,

“If I were a boy, I’d love to have ‘Agni’ for a name.”

“He was really tall- this tall.” Ujjwal waved his arms out in front of him. “We call him Tower Man. He is such an eyesore.”

It was true that Mira was tall. But that never was an eyesore! I felt it was a part of her.

“He is really smart- that’s what the teacher told us. He learned to add numbers in one class- and trust me, us boys have been going to school for a year and still we don’t even know how to count up to hundred without hesitating.” continued Ujjwal.

I snorted.

That night, when I was about to lay my head on the pillow and sleep, there was a small sound of rustling of leaves. I turned around- it was too strange to be assumed a cat. You might have guessed what I saw outside.

Mira. But she was different in her looks. First off, her hair had been cut.

Before, it used to touch her feet, but now, she could not be recognized.

And yes, your suspicions were right. It was crystal clear. Mira had done that cliché gender swap.

“You could have told me about this.” I said, not caring the fact that I sounded bitter. She almost screamed at sight of me.

“How could I? Then Pa will come to know about this, and then he will hang me to death.” she said through chattering teeth.

“I don’t go about telling people what I hear.”

Mira heaved a sigh of relief.

“I’d better keep going then.” she said.

“Too fast? Tell me what it feels like to get educated! Ujjwal told at the table that ‘Agni’ is very smart.”

“So you did know about this! I tell you, it is exciting. Did you know that there are measures for everything in our life? And that reading and writing is very easy?”

And that night, Mira brought me to a world of numbers, of science. Of things I never knew. She taught me everything, and never in my life had I felt so happy. Finally, I know things beyond household work. I was proud to be one of the first women in the village to learn these fascinating secrets which dirty customs hid from females for generations.

And from then, every night, Mira taught me the daily lessons. She told me she lodged under the roof of a kind tribal family that resided in the outskirts of the village and said that as a reward for their hospitality, she was taking classes for the kids in the tribe as well. Finally! Change.

But these secrets did not last long. The family soon started getting suspicious. The absence of Mira was soon detected by Pa. That night was a night of controversy.

“Where. is. she?” he asked angrily, and Ma bowed her head. Ujjwal was snickering, while uncle Bhatia tried to calm him down in vain. Our aunt did not seem to care, and I heard her muttering under her breath, “She is free.”

“I cannot believe I was an idiot for three weeks.”  he grumbled and our uncle had a rather approving look in his eye.

I was glad that at least they did not suspect Agni. But I was a fool to do so. One day, our father was rather ecstatic on returning home from spending the evening at a friend’s.

“I’ve cracked it at last! That little-”

And the rest I would not like to reveal because it is an offensive word for women. Our mother was frustrated.

“What happened?” she asked, her forehead creased.

“That new boy! He is- or I should say she is- your beloved daughter Mira!”

Our mother slapped her chest, her lip quivering.

“My friend and I were talking about the school. You know him- he was a retired teacher there, although he still visits the place often to see how it works. And he told me about this particular boy who seemed to exhibit ‘feminine behavior’. I knew for a fact, that men do not do that- but women, weak and unable to control others, often tend to impersonate men.” he said proudly.

“How observant.” I sneered, glad to know that he was so excited he did not hear me.

It all happened in a flash. Mira had been dragged home from school by her hair. She had been threatened by our father.

“If you dare defy us again, ten lashes is what you get.”

Mira seemed unfazed, as if she knew this would happen.

In the days that followed, the talk of the men in the town was that of the girl who disguised herself as a boy to go to school. But believe it or not, she was a heroine among the women- a liberator and all that. And she was glad to be the first feminist to speak up in that village.

But do you think it all ended with that? Of course not. One incident- that was all that was needed for the men to feel inferior.

It was while making dinner for the family when our nine months pregnant aunt fainted on the ground.

I was the first to discover her lying tired and restless in the kitchen. You could have guessed what happened (I narrate in a predictable way). I screamed. In short time, our whole family had gathered there, and we were shocked, specifically uncle Bhatia.

We called the medics- the chief doctor of the village, and he came, supported on a chair by four other men, and a nurse followed behind him. But those men tripped over a rock, and the fools gaped as the doctor sprung up from a chair a lay on the floor, his face flat on the ground.

Bhatia was furious and started shouting at the men, along with Pa, and then there was another problem. There was no other man in the village who dared to step up and save the child. They had amassed a lot of knowledge but when it came to applying them, they were speechless. Finally, Mira said,

“I will save the child. With some help from the others.”

“How? You don’t even know how to-”

But our uncle cut across his brother. “Do you know how to, Beta?”

Mira nodded.

She entered the room, followed by mother, and a few other women from the village.

It was a three hour wait, in which I bit the whole of my nails and uncle sat silently in the corner, praying.

We heard a cry from inside the room- not of our aunt, but of a baby.

“Your wife is safe and sound, just a little tired.” A woman said, coming out. “And I’m really sorry to say- it is a girl.”

“I did wish for a girl.” our uncle smiled, and father nodded.

“And you were stupid for calling my niece a buffoon.” uncle snarled. “Ujjwal proved to be useless in this time of need.”

 

In fact, we were all happy that finally this incident had brought some light into the others. And that was how the school came to be for both boys and girls. We were all treated equal. Thanks to Mira, our first activist who was ‘active’.

Author's Note

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[Faabi]

Hi, The essence of the story is good. But I feel that it requires a good editing.There are many gaps in it. For instance there is no indication about their ages and the age gap between them.This makes the story confusing because at one time she is studying in her brother's class and next time she is assisting in labour. I am emphasising this point only as an example.As a reader when I read, my mind goes to a fictional place where the characters comes to life.It feels like watching a movie.So when confusing things appear in a story I could not relate to it .By that I do not mean fantasy novels are bad.I love it. I just meant that a good writer should make unbelievable and confusing scenarios and fantasies beliveable in readers head.That is the magic of writing.Keep on doing what u r doing