An everyday warrior

Tanya Mander

THIS is the story of a warrior of the brave new world, commonly known as the Working Woman. Folklore has it that she embarks on a battle every day, before sunrise. She never sets an alarm; in fact, her prowess is a threat to the sun, because other than the Working Woman and the Met department, nobody is interested in the time of the sun’s rise or set.

Her armour includes, among other things, agile limbs, a zealous mind, a heart that can be caged as and when required, eyes and a tongue. An ordinary day begins with readying the little soldiers in her battalion for minor battles and skirmishes. Multi-tasking, she tutors the kids in self-reliance and tricks that would ensure that the grime of the world does not stick to their little personalities. The first battle of the day, therefore, translates into ensuring that the kids carry bags, books, tiffin and self-worth to school. With limited limbs, she begins with the battle of the abode, which must be set in order before she steps out in her heels. Beds, laundry, kitchen, shoes, et al is to be put in place. These ordinary things take on the shape of monsters that have to be curtailed and put in place, for they would be out again the next day with new ones!

The most difficult battle begins as she moves to her working place. Here, high on agenda is to choose mind over heart — a perpetual battle of the self with self. The range usually is from not being able to do enough (personally and professionally) to doing way too much. The Working Woman is consumed by the currents, undercurrents and work stretched in every possible direction. She walks the tightrope, striving for the elusive balance in her high heels. Wielding her sword, she cuts through work, and gladiator-like, performs in front of spectators who want her to fail. Papers, printers, computers, biometric, projectors surround her as she carves her identity in the physical and the virtual world, giving her combat a new dimension. The wounds and lessons from the workplace make her a better soldier as she assimilates that one has to choose one’s battles, and not every battle is worth fighting for.

As the day begins to end and the warrior returns, the lone, long fight awaits her. The little soldiers have to be taken for physical training aimed at a strong body and mind. The battle is more psychological than physical.  The soldiers have to be fed and nourished with knowledge and values, besides putting them in bed. The battle with the hands of the clock is a relentless one, with no break for the clock, or the warrior.

As the day melts into night, the Working Woman retreats and seeks refuge in her bed, tending to her emotional and physical wounds, and wondering that parallel to her everyday war is the greater political conflict which allows men to sign away her reproductive rights. Who is winning this war: work, woman, or society?