The Pihu Diary: Strength of a Woman

Pihu is growing up to be a little lady, with a deep sense of curiosity which ends up in a barrage of questions about all kinds of things. “What happens when you mix green and yellow?” “Why is red and orange not a good combination?” “How does sound come out of a phone?” “Who made strawberry jam?” “Why does the sun shine so hard and burn my skin?” “Why did my friend say keeping secrets is bad?” Arrrgh….now you know. The number of questions is directly proportional to the amount of time Pihu is at home, so come term holidays, and that number sure sprouts in to the beanstalk Jack ended up climbing. 

She is also becoming a very decisive woman. “I don’t want to have babies ever because it will hurt so much,” she says. So that day when she walked in to the bedroom from school and showed me a bruise on her elbow, I asked, “What happened?” After some initial hesitation, she confessed, “Louis from Year 1 pushed me to the ground saying, girls are weak and boys are strong.” Although my first instinct was yell curses at poor Louis who didn’t know better and go ask the teachers exactly what was happening in school that he got away with this kind of behaviour, I stalled. I pulled Pihu gently to me, gave her a cuddle and then told her this in stead, “Well the next time Louis says that and comes to push you, you hold up your hand, look him straight in the eyes and tell him, 'If God didn’t make women stronger, how come they are ones who give birth to babies? Have you any idea how much that hurts but how come Daddies don’t do that? Girls are stronger than you think, much stronger than boys in many ways'.” I actually put a smile on her face and she went on to repeat the whole thing line by line so she wouldn’t forget her response next time.

It is interesting what children can discover from parents as they grow older so I increasingly feel the pressure of saying the right thing when she is in conflict and looking for answers. I read somewhere that children learn from what their parents are, not what they try to teach them. So a lot of the learning is actually happening when you are not even trying to teach anything. Some of it is imbibed, some of it is picked up along the way through how we stand up for ourselves, our opinions, what we choose to support, what we don’t and what we say and what we don’t. A simple example is how a child will call his mother names and swear at the top of his voice when things don’t go his way because that’s what he has seen his dad do in frustration. I sure don’t want Pihu to hate men but she should be able to develop a strong personality, one that is formidable and attractive enough for people to admire and respect from a distance and love and treasure when they come close. 

Incidentally, I have been watching a few very excellent representations of female characters through popular TV fiction on Netflix these days. The smorgasbord of drama across geographies and cultures that we now have at our disposal thanks to OTT content has made me realise one thing, there is so much in common between the situations that women face in different countries, the battles that they have to fight for their status and position, the expectations that they have to match up to, to prove their worth and finally, the sacrifices they have to make for the ones they love. One such story made up of charismatic women was ‘Gran Hotel’, the Spanish saga about a heritage hotel in the scenic sea-swept shore of Cantaloa run by a ruthless matriarch who has low tolerance for mistakes and no patience for people who don’t do her bidding. Doña Teresa is equally cruel as she is conniving, however you cannot help but admire her resilience in the face of stronger evil and her loyalty towards the one goal of keeping the family hotel under the Alarcón name. Giving her no respite from ruining the family name and unearthing all its secrets, is her daughter, in whom she meets her match when it comes to taking a task to its fruition and in Alicia’s case, meting out justice where it is deserved, even if it means risking her family’s name in the process. It is refreshing and charming to see how women in the same family are constantly pitted against each other in a plot that has men in supporting roles, merely for humour, decoration or moving the story forward. It is also moving how the decisions of the women in the family finally allow for the conflict to reach resolution and the secrets to be buried, without further ado. 

In another bustling corner of the world in the city of Memphis, is the Greenleaf family from the eponymous series, also running on Netflix, where the Bishop’s wife, Mae Greenleaf is trying hard to steer the Calvary ship forward — Calvary being a church that the family has raised up from the ground for a shoal of Black believers who worship the Christian faith, albeit their style and a dash of Gospel music. Plurality, inclusivity and diversity are not yet celebrated here and there is a clear divide between Blacks and the fairer race, that is not only acknowledged but celebrated. That the Greenleaf family is affluent and dripping in wealth, exuberant in luxuries from Chanel and Tiffany, prospering within the confines of their lakeside estate and have money to splurge on everything they covet, are facts they do not shy away from or putting up on display. A far cry from what we see of the Black community or are made to see more often. This is a powerful depiction of what power and wealth can eventually do to the religious roots of a deep-seated pious family. At the end of the day, even priests or pastors are not immune to vices and the seven deadly sins affect even the most astute of us human beings. It is then up to Grace Greenleaf, a character essayed beautifully by Merle Dendridge to bring her family to the pulpit of justice and seek mercy and redemption at the altar of their dying faith in the family name and its ability to overcome its dark past. Again, we see how the mother-daughter duel can raise the hackles of a family on its tether, and how sometimes you don’t have to look for your strongest adversary outside, sometimes it could be end up being someone at home. Domestic strife, power struggle, cash embezzlement, mysterious murders, pedophilia, rape, adultery, divorce and teenage angst are all woven in to five seasons of Greenleaf, setting off with Grace arriving at the family estate to mourn her sister Faith’s death and ending up with her at the crossroads of a future within or without her family. I couldn’t help but reflect on the story’s literary leaning, in terms of the way it is directed from start to finish as well as Grace’s mother Mae Greenleaf’s character displays strong shades of Ma Joad from Grapes of Wrath. Produced by Oprah Winfrey and with the lady playing an important character in the story, this is an unmissable series for those who dig entertainment with thought-provoking questions for takeaway. 

It is simply delightful to see women making independent decisions and winning their freedom from the grasp of their own mistakes, and not those enforced upon them by the men around them. It makes me wonder about how long before we actually see regular televised Indian fiction with women wielding the baton in a similar fashion, moving the narrative about feminist fiction forward, not stumped by the conventional idea of what women want and how they should be. 

Coming back to Pihu, as she matures in her understanding of the sexes and the difference between the two, she is developing an acute understanding of what she expects from the other sex. Here is what I have gathered so far from our numerous conversations. So a boy is qualified to play with her only if a) he is kind, b) he is respectful c) he does not say mean things to girls d) he does not show his bum-bum in public e) he is funny f) and does not dig his nose in public. Rather ambitious but well, one can always hope.

I think that’s almost an adult’s description for a life partner! So far so good.