To Fly Or To Nest

“Tara, keep your laptop aside. It’s a Sunday.”

“I can’t, Mom. The client meeting is tomorrow and I have to finish the report by tonight.”

Hi. I am Tara Sharma, a Senior Financial Analyst at RCG Pvt. Ltd. I am 25 years old and I earn five lakhs a month. Yes, I earn big bucks. I don’t brag about it. I deserve it. I have worked hard all throughout my life. I never bunked a class, never came second, and worked freaking hard to get into the best college and University. So, yes, I deserve it. I am very happy with my Job. There are a lot of responsibilities for me right now. Office schedule is really hectic. But do I complain? No. I badly wanted this life.

I belong to a middle-class family. Yes, my family is very happy that I am doing really well in my life. But they are always worried about me. I am a 25-year-old single girl who earns big bucks and has an opinion on everything. I am very competent too. Sometimes, I feel that I am not a good daughter. My family is having a difficult time finding a boy for me. The reason is simple. No groom’s side is okay with the fact that their daughter-in-law will earn more than their son. No one is okay with the fact that being a woman, I would come back home late. I have made myself very clear to my family; I would never compromise on my career, no matter what.

“All this is fine beta, but don’t you want to have a family? After all, every girl has to compromise at some point in time”. I hear this very often. From family, relatives, friends. There was a time when I used to freak out on hearing these words. Now I have grown over it. I don’t care anymore. Yes, they are my well-wishers. They want me to grow. They want me to grow as a creeper, not as a tree. That’s how our society is right? A woman can either fly or nest. She can’t have both.

It’s Sunday evening. I am sitting in the living room and had a sip of my coffee. The T.V is on and my parents are having their light-hearted romance over coffee and biscuits. They are an ideal couple. My dad earns well and my mom takes care of the house. We are in the twenty-first century. She is not a housewife, she is a homemaker. Well, she is happy with it and often advises me to be happy too. My mom used to work. Then I was born. She chose me over work. Well, I can never do that. So I would be a bad mom? Would I ever be a Mom? Would I ever be a wife? Most importantly, do I care? Not enough.

I kept making corrections in the report. The T.V is still on. Suddenly my eyes caught the ‘Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao’ add. The inner me wanted to laugh, but I respected my parent’s presence.

‘Well True. Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao, aur phir le jake unko kitchen mein bithao.’ I heard myself in silence.