The Book Sati

Thoughts were springing up in my head and this thought came that I want to emulate Sati.

As they took the form of words, I realized the mammoth error. I don’t want to be Sati. I want to be the book Sati. Such, SUCH a difference exists between both the things.

Now, I am not proposing that you have to like Amish Tripathi’s Meluha series (I know for that matter that his work has its own share of critics). And I am admitting very clearly that I don’t have much knowledge of the mythology and history.

But as far as I know, Sati and Book Sati couldn’t be different.

Sati, the historical Sati, the Indian meaning of Sati, is someone whose life would have no meaning if by an unfortunate turn of events her husband left this world. So as to basically say that one whole life was associated with and found meaning through the meaning of another man’s life.

The Book Sati, ah, the Book Sati on the other hand could not be different.

Strong, independent, headstrong, clear hearted, compassionate. She is an individual in herself.

A complete individual, a substantial individual.

She did not need someone to give meaning to her life. But when she came across someone, she had as much to give as she received.

She deserved as much respect as she gave.

She did not care about her own life when she jumped in to save a poor woman from a  beast, something Shiva could not bring himself to do when He was young.

Yes, Shiva could not be happy when Sati was gone. But it was Sati being so herself that made Shiva fall so inexplicably in love with her.

I feel sad these days, as I approach ‘THAT’ age. I see that girls are raised only so that they can be good homemakers. I see that marriage is the ultimate stage towards which a girl’s life is steered since the very beginning. It kills me, to see, that it is the ONLY thing which matters in a girl’s life.

Even as I go about with the so called corporate life, I see that nothing really matters at the end. Except your marriage and the home you establish.

And as I write this down, I realize how wrongly I can be interpreted. It is not that I am against the institution and everything.

It is one important thing, and well, we are humans. We cannot really go on without love. What use was my existence of if I left this life and there wasn't anyone missing me?

But that is not my whole life. I am a lot of things beyond that.

I don’t like it that the only concern a lot of mothers have is that their girl should possess good looks and culinary skills and what not so that she would be appealing as a housewife.

I mean, after a point you do get conscious about your looks. That comes naturally with age. Maintaining your personality and grooming can be done and should be done if and when it is required.

But that is not the only thing that defines you.

And if someone loves you for only your looks, your cooking, because you listen patiently to them, because there is no one else, because you can be flaunted around (believe me, THAT happens), well, neither is it love, nor is it there to stay.

Or so I hope is true. It should be, if you ask my crude opinion.

A friend says that the corporate life is a creativity killer. It sucks everything out of you.

And hence, as I struggle with my tongue tied-ness (eh?) ,I cannot conjure a nice ending...but I know one thing, I want to emulate the Book Sati J

 P.S. I was searching for an image, and suddenly it struck me that nothing would be more apt than that of the lady who does MAGIC :D

 P.P.S. Happy Navratras :) Jai Mata Di :)