Every time a woman says that she hates men, they ask, what about your male relatives. Guess what, honey, I began despising men by looking at the men in my family :)
Every time baba raised his voice at mummy,
Every time mummy entered the kitchen, and baba entered his room after coming back from the office, together,
Every time mummy asked for baba’s permission to go to Mamaghar,
Every time baba called mummy ‘timi’ and mummy called baba ‘tapai’,
Every time Buwa called Aama ‘Sharade ki aama’, and Aama called Buwa ‘tapai’,
Every time mummy did all the laundry while baba read Kantipur on Saturdays,
Every time Baba made the excuse that there’s a washing machine; mummy doesn’t have to do much now,
Every time Buwa left his plate on the dining table for someone else to take it to the sink,
Every time Buwa gave Dashain’s blessing, “arko choti chai naati lai pani sangai rakhera tika lagauna paam”*
Every time the men in Ghimire family played taas in Dashain while the women cooked khasi ko masu and did the dishes
Every time the women were made to distance themselves from any social settings during their periods,
I knew I didn’t like men.
That time I saw Ghimire family banshawali in Buwa’s room — that had no names of daughters or daughters-in-law as though all Ghimire men birthed all Ghimire men — and he said nothing.
I knew I didn’t want men like them in my life. In a life that I was to build myself.
I couldn’t control what happened in the life I was born into, but in a life that I was to build myself, I didn’t want men like them in my life.
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Time passes. I grow. I question. I rebel. Baba unlearns a lot, A LOT of things, and he grows with me. Mummy doesn’t ask for permission anymore, and she says that she loves cursing at Baba when she’s mad at him. Baba doesn’t raise his voice at mummy, at least not that I’ve heard. But it’s mummy who does the household chores even though they come back home from work together. No one dares ask me about my periods, not even Buwa Aama, but it’s quite the same for mummys and kakis. Things have changed, sure. But it’s not enough.
I have more faith in the men of this generation. I’m proud of my male cousins and friends. Thank you for being and doing better than what you have seen.
timi and tapai — Salutations have hierarchies in Nepali language, where tapai is reserved for the elderly and to show utmost respect, and timi is on a lower hierarchy, reserved for friends mostly.
“arko choti chai naati lai pani sangai rakhera tika lagauna paam” — Next Dashain, we hope to bless a grandson alongside our granddaughter.
taas — playing cards
khasi ko masu — goat meat
banshawali — family tree
