It is a happening morning. After talking to some of my favourite people, I sat down singing my favourite old hindi songs… thinking of how I’m losing potential friends to motherhood.

A lot of women that I’ve befriended or tried to befriend are either mothers of small babies or are expecting some. I love children and I love playing with them and I never miss a chance of going Ohhh Sooo Cute and I would surely love to have one myself someday, but it is heartbreaking to see the plight of a woman who often loses her identity after becoming a mother.

I am not talking about the selfish thought that I want just them to exist to be available, motherhood is such a phenomena that is going to bring a lot of changes to a woman’s life, but I grieve when I see how a woman often seizes to be anything else. At least most women that I know of Indian origin have given into that kind of existance. Their attachment grows to such levels that when the child grows up having a life of his/her own, it is difficult for her to let go.

Yet, not all women are the same. And I’ve a few examples around too. I’ve been lucky enough to be part of a family with two mothers who have managed to keep their identities and raised highly individualistic kids instead of making them one of the pack who goes only by what others are doing. At the same time, they’ve managed to be themselves, lived their lives, done their bit for the world and most of the times, make sure to have a wonderful time themselves.

I know I’m writing about a touchy matter, specially because motherhood is so glorified. It is glorified for the right reasons, but not enough to hide behind it for the rest of your life after that has happened to you. I wish women could retain identities, have conversations beyond their babies with their families and friends and extend their lives. Is it too much to ask for? Perhaps it is a difficult task, and physically so stressful that they want to keep on taking pride in the outcome for as long as they can.

Anyway, as of now my shuffle list is playing tricks with me and I’m listening to and singing Mausam Hai Aashiqana from Pakeezah. I can not go on thinking about anything else, till I’m ready to give birth to a story for today.

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