It was around mid-March, last year. A volunteer organization in the eastern part of the city entrusted me with the task of documenting the work of a workshop on the dignity of women and preparing a report on it as a consultant. The workshop should focus on organizing women in a wider socio-economic perspective and on ways to overcome them. Towards the end of the workshop an exquisite organization lady with a plump executive appeared on the stage to present a vote of thanks to the dignitaries as usual with workshops.
She, however, digested some of the general practice by speaking to the audience about her personal views and experience related to the subject. She argued that "women in our society did not have their own identity and that a woman had to identify as being the daughter of someone, his wife or his wife. mother according to the circumstances. Then she continued to provide some personal examples.
She continued, "One day I was at the grocery store when I heard people talking among them referring to me," Look, it's the owner of Eastern Logistics, SK Kanungo & # 39; woman, "and another day when I accompanied my son, a class IX student, to his school, I heard his classmates talking to each other," Hey, that mother of 39, ; Anubhav & # 39; s. "Some people can be proud of that, but I did not like them talking to me that way, I thought I had to do something to get out of this state of affairs." joined this organization in the search for an identity for myself.Now, people know me as Ms. Deepika Kanungo, the social activist.At least I have an own identity. " Then she thanked the participants formally.Of course, I did not record her informal talks, but they came back to me in the spirit of looking for a missing link.It m & # 39; It came to mind that the hercontention lacked logic, despite the applause it had received from the public.
Do the professional ladies have anything that is safe? Calling identity and others do not own it? Is it specific to women to be designated as the spouse? e parent or offspring of someone? Is not it equally applicable to men? In addition, can a person, male or female, in sex, cease to be considered related to someone in any way simply because she or she is currently engaged in one activity or another?
These were the questions to be answered. All the same, I prepared my document and submitted it the next day.
When I returned home when I was looking for paper in my office, my eyes fell on my voter card that was there. A week ago, I had brought it to make a photo on the photocopier of the office because I had asked for a new SIM card for which it was necessary to provide the same thing, and pressed by the workload had forgotten to keep her safe.
As I raised it to keep it in the right place, I found that it specified my name, my parents. name, ward number to which I belonged, my address and of course, my date of birth among other things. But he did not specify my profession as such. Perhaps the Electoral Commission did not consider it necessary to ensure it for the task of identifying the citizens. Is it my socio-political identity that I am the son of one such and belong to a particular place? I knew that the commission needed specific information for married women – the name of their spouse and it is not difficult to equate this. But it seemed that they did not feel it necessary to know which profession the woman had adapted to identify as the country's citizen.
I wondered how it could have been an act of bashing women, if at all, or men. So why is there so much noise about it?
The next day it was Sunday. I received a call from my friend Arun Ray in the morning watching the news on TV with a cup of tea. He asked me if I could meet him on the bank of Kathjori near the park. I was happy to accept as he recalled our old days. We had to meet at 6 pm
I was waiting for Arun on the site. Because, he had yet to arrive because it was a quarter of an hour past the right time. It was a clear sky. The sun was going down to the west horizon, projecting streaks of golden rays through small patches of white clouds and the water of the river's waterfalls had reflected the idyllic beauty of the scarlet ball.
I looked at my watch. It was 6:20. Then he came up and shouted, "Hi, my friend!"
"For a long time, yaar," I retorted
We touched each other.
"Wow, what a scene," he exclaimed to the scenic beauty of the setting sun.
We sat on the bank ramp instead of entering the nearby park and watched the scene that nature had endowed to lovers like us.
"Now, tell me Arun, how would you say it if someone asks you for your identity," I asked.
"Well, it depends, you know, you have no identity in this vast universe, it's almost negligible," he replied.
"But that's metaphysics, get down to earth." [1945-19003] "As for me, someone will call me by the name of my father and my address, or perhaps, by my work."
"You mean without, of course, you did something flamboyant, not just by your work, I suppose."
"Of course, you are right."
"I'm sure one person"
"So why should our women argue that they have to do their job rather than stay a housewife for their identity? "
" Well, the housewife is also a job, Deepak. "
" Is it because the housekeeper saves money even though She earns nothing pecuniarily for her effort? "
" True. "
" You see, Aurn, the whole thing about this: regardless of whether or not you hold a job your identity depends on your relationship with a place or person, unless you are a Newton or an Einstein.I can not cancel the fact that I am the son of someone else or any other no one can deny being the wife of someone else just because of my job or that of that person, "I summed up
Let's take tea, said Arun, and we settled down in our old tea room.
One week was finished, the same organization called me to prepare a document for them. I did not have any commitment for the week, I went to their office and I went back to work the next day. They showed me an office at the office. On the floor where I concentrated on preparing the report on the basis of the data given
an hour would have passed since I attended the work I heard a hard reprimand from a woman The voice came from the ground floor.
He rang, "Do you know who I am?" I am the wife of Sangram Kesari Kanungo.
After a minute, the attendant came with a cup of tea and I asked him which was the row.He explained that someone, an unknown number had sent a sign of love to Mrs. Deepika's cell phone, and thus this fury on her part.
The assistant was but I could not hold my laugh.