If there was something that my mother was proud of me most, then it was the fact that I knew driving a geared two-wheeler. She loved to see her girl macho – ready to take on the guys outside. She just needed an opportunity to urge me to take my scooter out to drive.
There are many reasons for her being so proud. She was a feminist. Not totally but believed in woman empowerment. She believed that a woman was actually capable more than a man; all the talk that a woman does not have enough strength to drive a bike was a sham. And more than anything, she saw herself in me. She wanted that the encouragement to do various activities that should have been given to her when she was a child must not be denied to me.
She encouraged me in each and every step. I thank God for giving me a father who is not a chauvinist in this regard. He was more than happy to team me all the supposedly “manly” things. He considered that nothing was impossible if we put in sufficient efforts. Everything was in the state of mind; how positive we were to learn and accept things.
Anyway, when my father asked me if I was willing to learn the scooter, my mother was the most excited person. She wanted me to learn it as soon as possible and take her for a ride round the locality so that she can hold her head high about her girl.
My first lesson started in the parking lot. I saw my mother standing at the door not moving throughout my learning process, observing my progress. My first day went futile. I almost cried when I could not put on and take off the stands. Still she never came out to console me. She knew I had to be toughened. The second day, I was a bit better (though I considered that as luck) and I started pushing the vehicle by hand. She still stood by the door observing. Later the next day my arms started paining extensively. But she never let me make a big fuss of it. I continued with my progress.
As I started coming out to the roads in my locality, she too came outside to see me drive so well – observing with her hands folded at her waist. Her eyes gazing at my concentration and how balanced I was. Finally I made it. I was driving without any assistance. My arm-ache had disappeared. I had started loving speed. I wanted to take my parents for a ride, but then my father suggested that we better not cross the limit of traffic rules. So my lessons remained lessons. I never got an opportunity to drive my mother anywhere.
Later, just before got my driving license, she had a fall and was advised not to travel on two-wheeler. Her ride with me remained just a dream since then. But she never relents this. She believed she can see the world through me.
As I tell me my journey through the manly roads, her eyes enlighten. She’s excited to hear how guys stare at me, chase me, overtake me etc. she is thrilled to hear that the security salutes me when I go to office or anywhere. She is energized when I tell her that the guys look at me with awe and consider me not as a girl but as a guy.
Yes, she wanted me to be a guy in this male-dominated world. She never looked at me like a girl. Probably she wanted to be the same. But it needs a generation to change things. She made the change and I am a living example. I love you Mom.
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