The role of women in humanising civil society

I THINK it was at a United Nations’ Seminar on Women’s Development and Empowerment where I first heard a statement which left quite a mark on me. A speaker, after making a strong case for women’s rights and equality, said, “After all, we, the women, are one-half of this world. And we are mothers to the remaining half.” From the time I heard it, I have used the line liberally in conversations, eliciting mixed reactions. Men who heard it either turned thoughtful or retaliated with ‘witticisms’. To this last lot, the thought was perhaps a source of discomfort, so much so that they needed to brush it away. Women, on the other hand, heard it with evident pride. They realised their inherent advantage: they could give birth, nurture, train and teach the ‘other half’. In the past few months, I have been giving thought to what the statement implies, especially the latter half. Yes, it is true that we, the women, are one-half of the world’s population. And the ratio can remain balanced and unaffected unless the sex determination madness that has overtaken India (and a few other countries) continues unabated and changes the balance irreversably. The fact of motherhood is a biological given and doesn’t bear much discussion. Even a surrogate mother is a mother in all the ways that matter. In fact, in such a case, the truth of motherhood is reinforced twice— once through the woman whose body nourishes a child through nine months and then through the mother whose genes the child bears. My concern is related to the dual nature of responsibility that women bear in these changed times. Nowadays, women juggle several roles— daughter, wife, mother, and in an increasing number of cases, working woman. No longer are we content only to serve, nurture, cherish and train our children. We also have the added responsibility to ourselves and want to live our own lives to the full. For many, the twin concepts of space and time have now evolved into ‘My space’ and ‘Me time’. And in this need for self, a lot of what we knew is often lost. Make no mistake, I am one of these women too; I love my space, I enjoy the moments when I have no responsibility, and though I believe I have fulfilled much of my role as a homemaker and mother well enough, there are lacunae that an earlier generation of mothers and grandmothers would shake their heads and go tsk tsk at. Today, as always in India, a male child is more prized than a lion cub in a litter of females. The penchant for a male child, the belief that a son is special because he will first earn the ‘big bucks’ as salary, and then as dowry, quite blinds the fond mother. But being mothers to the other half of the universe of humans implies that it is also on the shoulders of women to ensure that their sons live their lives as responsible human beings. Yet, how many of today’s suddenly liberated women expend thought on this aspect? How often do we see sons being brought up differently from their sisters? Personally, I’ve seen it often enough to make me uncomfortable. I was recently travelling by train to a city in Rajasthan. In the cubicle next to mine was a family of four: a young, pretty, but infinitely tiredlooking mother, an indifferent father, a son of around four years, and a daughter somewhat older. Even though the boy was in a lovely post-toddler period, he was unbearably impossible. He screamed when denied something, climbed up and down the berths and attacked everything his sister took up to play with. He didn’t stop demanding things for a single moment , didn’t eat when he was told to and demanded food when all had been put away. When at last he fell asleep, the entire compartment I think heaved a collective sigh of relief. The mother never lost her cool with him. She either chose to ignore the tantrums or remonstrated with him in the softest tone, that had no effect. Mostly, she gave in. The quiet sister tried to calm her little brother as well, then left him to his own devices when it yielded no result. The father, shunning all responsibility, was as detached as a saint. I could not help thinking that if it had been the girl who was behaving this badly, she would have—even if she were the younger of the two— been disciplined immediately by one of the parents. I wondered too how they would cope with the boy as he grew older, if they did not start at least making him understand better behaviour at this age. But perhaps blinded by the joy in finally having a son, they let him have his way in everything, almost afraid to rebuke him as he was so precious. The point I’m trying to make is simple. It’s on us (the women) that the responsibility also rests to ensure that the other half remains human. Changing values, growing materialism and progress are all changing the definition of motherhood. But if women remain anchored to one fact, that when taught the right values, a child will hold on to them through most challenges and upheavals, they will be doing their bit for the future of mankind. I have to applaud the new freedom that some sections of women have garnered; and laud the fact that television and cinema have taught even rural women self-reliance and given them the impetus to seek their own identity. However, I do have a word of caution. Let us not forget that we are the shapers of mankind and in our hands lies the power to ensure the safety of the world. If mothers do not teach war and cupidity and balance the lessons of power with those about love; if they ensure that their sons—as much as their daughters—grow up respecting others, valuing nature and learning to conserve it; if they make their boys understand humility as well as pride, learn to care for those weaker than them, then women, too, will find themselves a step closer to real independence. And they will leave a legacy of greater equality and peace for men and women the world over.