My mother told me that my name meant ‘alertness’. By the time I was in my teens, I thought my name had an uncanny familiarity to the word Nishaad, meaning ‘one who has no sorrows’. Nishaad is also the seventh note of an octave in the Indian musical system. Somewhere along, I realised that it doesn’t really matter what my name means. My parents thought I was ‘alert’ enough; my husband and in-laws are convinced that I am the happiest and the luckiest person in the world, and I do practice (a lot) the seventh note to get it right. I try to be alert when it suits me. The fear of sorrow got me to write and sing – the self-serving notes to myself.
A couple of weeks back, I was asked to pen down an idea for a short film. Keep it ‘succinct’, ‘hard-hitting’ and ‘passionate’ – remember, the audience don’t want reality. Don’t worry to give us the details. We just need an idea. We will build on it. The reassurance that someone else will work on my idea was scary and yet intriguing. It was an opportunity for me to explore an alternate universe that would be created out of my life and shown on screen!
This ‘idea’ is my attempt at presenting a version of a persistent illusion called reality. It is a page out of my life. It is about my relationship with the people I live with – my family and more importantly myself.
(Feel Free to title it as you deem fit!!!)
The protagonist is a young woman Nishida who has a 12 yr old daughter Ranjani. Nishida works in an Ad agency and on weekends teaches music. The story is about the relationship between Nishida and her daughter and the perceptions of the family about the quality of the relationship. Nishida enjoys her work in the agency. She is doing well at work, makes a good deal of money for the organization she works for. She is lively, energetic and full of ideas. Her life at home is just as good. She finds interesting and creative ways to spend time with her daughter. Having an engaging conversation with her while in the kitchen, interesting conversations on the phone when on the way to work / home. They learn music together and when she is teaching, Ranjani watches her. In essence, she ensures that she is ‘present’ as much as possible physically as well as via the virtual space.
There is some amount of difference of opinion at home. Her husband (Dhir) doesn’t insist; but has expressed quite a few times that being a ‘virtual’ mom is not good and that it is not helpful to Ranjani. He urges Nishida to have a “good work-life balance”. Nishida’s in-laws (especially the mother-in-law) reluctantly goes along with the way things are going. There have been multiple discussions between the couple on this front. Dhir believes that compromise, and at times sacrifices, are important when one is a parent. On the other hand, ‘the child should always come first’ is a principle that Nishida doesn’t believe in. ‘I love my daughter and I love myself just as much is what she keep saying. Thus far, it has been discussions and perhaps minor arguments between the couple. Dhir would listen, smile, sigh and move. Nishida would often give the ‘understanding smile’ and tells herself, ‘I don’t need to explain myself, this doesn’t need to be argument and he is not going to understand.’
The problem comes in when one day, Ranjani while playing hurts herself badly. She comes home to see that her grandparents have gone out and parents haven’t returned from work yet. She calls her mom (Nishida who is on her way home), who calms her down at first, and takes her through a series of tasks that involves slowly walking to the bathroom, washing the wound, using cotton and antiseptic to clean the area, and to loosely bandage it with a clean handkerchief. Ranjani follows the instructions and by the time this is done, Nishida has reached home and so have the grandparents. They realize that the leg is badly bruised and that Ranjani needs an anti-tetanus. She is taken to the hospital where the doctor attends to her.
The conversation on return, and at the dinner table is volatile that day. The grandparents are upset that they were not present and at the same time adopt an ‘I told you so’ attitude towards Nishida. Dhir is proud that Ranjani displayed the presence of mind and did what she was told. He appreciates her and his wife for handling the situation well and at the same time, expresses his discomfort with ‘you are a great professional, a strong person but you still need to be a mother who is present. Not having a mother around when needed is depriving Ranjani of what she deserves, and Dhir is upset at that. ‘Ranjani doesn’t need to learn to be independent as yet’ he concludes. The fact that the situation was handled and that their daughter displayed maturity is what Nishida reiterates.
Ranjani is a witness to this entire discussion around the dining table. She feels guilty that she is the cause of the argument, angry at her grandparents for their attitude towards her mother, and confused with her father. She doesn’t understand on how one can be proud AND upset at the same time. She struggles dealing with appreciation and condemnation at the same time. Moreover, she wonders if she has to stop being one (role) to be another. I am a daughter and a grand-daughter. So, when I become a mother, why will I stop being Ranjani?. She asks these questions to her grandparents and to her father; all of who, look at Nishida for an answer.
Nishida is angry at herself and at the family for having made Ranjani feel guilty and so conflicted. For the first time she bursts out - ‘Why do I have to be stressed out, make sacrifices, or make myself miserable to do well at home and at work? And who decides what is good? My work, like my role as a mother is not a luxury. It’s a need.” For the first time, Nishida lashes out at the so called work-life balance and calls it sheer nonsense. “You are telling me and Ranjani that Home is Life and that we need to balance work and Home, and I have a problem with that. I won’t accept it and neither am I ok for my child to accept it. My life is my home, my work, my friends, my interests and everything that I cherish. And as for Ranjani, what makes you think she is ‘deprived’? The delusion that a child MUST have a 24x7 mom at home and if she doesn’t have it, then she is deprived of something is unacceptable and ludicrous. Ranjani needs to know that she is loved and we need to teach her to take care of herself. She needs to know that we are there for her and that is the one thing that will make her feel safe. Why can’t we just do that for her, for me and for each other?”.
There is silence at the end of Nishida’s outburst. She slowly smiles, heaves a sigh of relief, takes her phone and leaves the room. Dhir gets up to and takes a seat next to his daughter.
The evening ends on a note with Dhir having a conversation with Ranjani and explaining to her on what she should do in the event of an another accident at home. In-laws watching the concluding episode of a prime time tele-serial and Nishida on the phone while she is getting the laundry done.
“Is there something that you don’t understand? You have read it about 5 times now” I asked my script-writer friend Jai Raj (RJ, as he likes to be called). He had penned scripts for a dozen films, 5 of which were block-busters. RJ looked up, grimaced and said, “Where is the punch? Where is the pain? This really needs to be worked on a lot.
“Sure”, I quipped, “Please go ahead. I am quite curious to know what changes you will bring in.” I could see frustration on RJ’s face.
“I asked for something real. Why is the husband not fighting the wife. Why is your lady talking about herself. She is a mom. The child comes first.”
“So, change it… “ I quipped
“The audience will want to see the struggle, the constant compromise, the uncompromising love”, RJ added
“Fine, go ahead! Bring it on….” I retorted
“Motherhood is a journey, it’s a gift, it’s the ultimate call to sacrifice. And the audience must see her struggle balance work and the gift. This is what will make the men understand and the women empathise.” RJ exploded and started pacing the floor.
The silence that ensued was hard to make sense of. Nothing that I would say, would have helped me; or for that matter RJ either. I gently walked out of the room leaving the script in RJ’s hands. Stories are best told by those who have a flair for the narrative; and narratives are best scripted by those who want to keep the story going.
The story of a woman without a child is the same as the story of a woman with a child; it’s minus the child.
The relationship of a woman with herself is just as fundamental as her relationship with her child – perhaps more so. This is perhaps a simplistic representation of my egotistical self; nonetheless, it is what it is – the story of Nishida attempting to effortlessly live the seventh note of the octave!
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