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DO NOT COPY! I’LL BITE!
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I have got inspired. I read two most hilarious blog posts on menstruation, one by a woman, and the other is a male view point on the subject. Thanks Sue for pointing me in the right direction. There is no doubt that men got lucky in this department. The don’t have these rites of passage like menstruation, pregnancy, labour and menopause. Well I also think that they don’t have our power, experience the joys of nursing an infant, and frankly we look good with or without clothes. Also we have total black magic power on our men since our headaches, cramps, aneamia and hot flushes can make or break their lives. I think the scales are tilted heavily in our favour. Oh yeah, one more thing, we actually enjoy shopping.
My mother belonged to a generation that was taught to hide evidences of being a woman. Even drying a bra was much cloak and dagger stuff, the darn thing had to be hidden under a saree or some other cloth on the clothesline. I swear she must be dying a million deaths when she went to buy them. When I reached puberty, I was pretty clueless about what it all meant. My social circle comprised of my male siblings. I had no girlie person to share confidences with. My mother dragged me into her room and locked the door. Then she told me, in hushed whispers, while blushing deeply, that I was grown up now and would bleed for a week every month until I got pregnant. I was not supposed to talk about this and from now on I would not play with the boys and would sleep with the babies. I looked at her totally confused. Far reaching changes were being made in my life, and it was scary.
Anyhow, after two years of this episode, I became friendly with another girl in my class. We started sharing confidences and we got into an argument. Both of us had Science in school and were aspiring to be doctors and engineers (was there any other profession?). I insisted that we would have the period only until we got pregnant, after that – chutti. My mother did not tell me that one got reprieve only for the duration of pregnancy you see. She took unholy delight in correcting this misconception. She had two elder sisters in medical college, and she hauled me by the collar and took me for an intense re-education programme conducted specially for me by her didis and their class mates. Quite an enlightening experience.
Having lots of brothers to grow up with can either make you the shy feminine retiring sort, or it can make you an aggressive (fight back for survival) kind of a creature. I became the latter and also developed a shocking sense of humour. So when I read this blog about using human milk for ice-cream I simply loved it. It has just the right amount of grossness for it to be side-splitting hilarious. When Kid#1 was born, my elder cousins were scattered all around the globe in various colleges. They all decided to come meet the “little man” at the same time. Kid#1 was 6 months old when this happened. They were fascinated by him, and also by me. ”Oyyyyyeeee, you look like a little lady” they would remark. They were most impressed by the way I carried him around and handled him and also the diaper duties, even though they made the most gross jokes about it. Most of all, the fact that I was suckling the baby freaked them out. I was discrete about it and would turn my back to them or go into an empty room and lock the door. OMG, the jokes they cracked! Their entire stock of jokes was about milk booths and production factories. Over the weekend, they decided to irritate me by asking me to make tea at every given hour – oh wow! the tomboy could make tea. Uff, I finally had enough and stamped my foot down and threatened to make them tea with my milk, and insisted that they be brave enough to drink it. What was good for my baby was good for them. They backed off! Phew!
Oh! Now I am at the peri-menopausal stage …. or as my brothers quip MEANO – PAUSE. They aught to know better, my sister in laws have been giving them hell I guess with hot flushes and mood swings. Today one of them sent me a link to this delightful musical with the caption “I know you’re growing old, heh, Celebrate the Change”. Thanks Kanav Bhaiyya, thanks a lot. Do you remember the day you opened your drawer and found a dead frog stinking of formaldehyde? It wasn’t Neeraj Bhaiyya who put the frog there, it was me…… just to let you know. You were so nasty about not letting me play marbles with the rest of you that day – so I just evened the score. So what if I waited 30 or 35 whole years before ‘fessing up ?
Happy memories my dear, and happy Diwali 
9 Responses to “Rites of Passage”
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Having lots of male cousins reminds me of Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott. Missed all this cousins fun and fights!!!
Learnt all from friends and a biology reference book, a friend and I read and reread the ‘Reproduction’ chapter…and remained clueless
LOL, two of my uncles lived in the same colony as us ….. it was an extended joint family. And it was crazy. For a long long time I was the only girl in the family, which meant I was punching bag, pet poodle, friend, confidante. Parents and elders were just a blip in the horizon, for us family meant siblings….. still does
Enjoying your memories series
Thanks IHM
I don’t think much has changed over the years. Stupid schools still ask girls to wear slips under their shirts so that their bras won’t show – as if they were a sign of something terrible!
And when I got married five years ago, my mother-in-law told me, very discretely of course, that I could hang my clothes under a dupatta! Ugh!
Unbelievable! I thought that mind set had died!!!
I know that “show your bra strap and you are a slut” shaming- my cousins gave me a lot of that.
But like all else, this was hilarious
Mine called my strap “Flag of India”, and had the time of their tiny lives snapping it
Had been missing all your recent posts cos i forgot to update my blogroll. Did it today and will now be religiously following you-LOL.
Loved reading this one and enjoyed going thru ur transformation. Even I didnt know I was the mother-types, till i breast fed my first born. Till then I used to be afraid that my baby will go on crying the whole night while I wouldnt be able to wake up to attend to her.
LOL yeah, and also be scared we would not be able to bathe it, understand its cries etc etc. Such needless fears
Enjoyed reading your post.
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Thanks Shailaja, I love your sense of humour too
lol!!! there are so many stories i have heard people telling me abt the mensuration education from their mom’s… my mom thankfully did a good session with me may be it has something to do with her being a science teacher
Must be … you lucky thing! Why shame a child I wonder – as it is she is freaking out with the thought “Bleeding from where!!!!”
Hehehehe…. I remember knowing about it even before ma told me. I think I corrected some details and was severely scolded for it! I was overjoyed with my first bra! I was a woman! Ahh those were the days…
Sigh! There is no justice in this world. Imagine being scolded for having done your homework
Although before I knew the whole thing, I used to think carefree & whisper are to be used when your panties are torn… Now why would they be torn so much, don’t ask me… no logic!
ROFL, yeah , absolutely
hilarious almost died laughing. great going and an insight into the social infrastructure of indian female. reminds me of a article on the male embarrassment in a lingerie store. i think theres something about female undergarments that is very uncomfortable for males to talk about or even shop for. Wonder why is it so…. They can be bold on other issues but try getting them to go to a mall and buy one of that stuff and the meanest one would die of shame.
I agree. Women of a certain generation feel embarassed too