I think sons are the inflated ego balloons of our society. Or else explain the child-factory that the desire of having a male heir launches in uncountable families. Remember the neighbourhood family with five elder daughters and an infant son?
Sons of Sardars, Muslims, Hindus, Christians all are born into the protective sheath of a universal condom called Mother. She will cover every action of her little boy and fight every external factor out to change his world, all the time making sure he leaves no trace of his doing, good or bad.
And sadly this very protection gives him the fake confidence of immunity from the countless diseases he is capable of unleashing.
After all when was the last time you heard a mother say 'My son must have instigated his friends to drink'. Or ' yes they cannot have a baby, something is wrong with my son'. 'She tried her best to make this marriage work, but my son was too career driven, never even cooked for her'?
In fact how many households have you visited where a son offers you water, makes tea for you and the daughter just sits there watching her favourite game on television or playing with an X-box? How many mothers have you seen hanging in their balcony squeezing the last drop of worry out of their body wondering where and what their sons are doing, and more importantly what the neighbours will think?
The same mothers are a veil for their daughters. Their shadow does not perpetually make the daughters invisible, they also choke their being. They engulf their talent. Hide in their dark folds the daughters desire for education, career and respectable living. They black out their vision of a brighter tomorrow and force them to live a life that is not just vitamin-deficient.
Some do this unconsciously. And some get better with every piano, dance and cookery class they send their daughters exclusively to instead of the self-defence class they so need. No I am not suggesting you change your daughter into the friendly neighbourhood spiderman, but, at least give her fangs men are weary of.
If only we don't infuse our daughters with the feeling of being subservient, can we diffuse the hollow-machoism we feed our sons.
Sons of Sardars, Muslims, Hindus, Christians all are born into the protective sheath of a universal condom called Mother. She will cover every action of her little boy and fight every external factor out to change his world, all the time making sure he leaves no trace of his doing, good or bad.
And sadly this very protection gives him the fake confidence of immunity from the countless diseases he is capable of unleashing.
After all when was the last time you heard a mother say 'My son must have instigated his friends to drink'. Or ' yes they cannot have a baby, something is wrong with my son'. 'She tried her best to make this marriage work, but my son was too career driven, never even cooked for her'?
In fact how many households have you visited where a son offers you water, makes tea for you and the daughter just sits there watching her favourite game on television or playing with an X-box? How many mothers have you seen hanging in their balcony squeezing the last drop of worry out of their body wondering where and what their sons are doing, and more importantly what the neighbours will think?
The same mothers are a veil for their daughters. Their shadow does not perpetually make the daughters invisible, they also choke their being. They engulf their talent. Hide in their dark folds the daughters desire for education, career and respectable living. They black out their vision of a brighter tomorrow and force them to live a life that is not just vitamin-deficient.
Some do this unconsciously. And some get better with every piano, dance and cookery class they send their daughters exclusively to instead of the self-defence class they so need. No I am not suggesting you change your daughter into the friendly neighbourhood spiderman, but, at least give her fangs men are weary of.
If only we don't infuse our daughters with the feeling of being subservient, can we diffuse the hollow-machoism we feed our sons.
