I am a MASALA woman. Now don't assume that I am a self proclaimed part of the SPICE girls and look like Victoria Beckham. MASALA is the Middle Aged Severely Agitated Ladies Anxiety Syndrome. I manage both, menopause on one hand, and a balding husband whose belly seems like he's pregnant with a twin Hippo on the other. I hope now you understand the reason for so much of MASALA in my life.There is a myriad of problems associated with the MASALA syndrome and all of them begin with an 'M'. Starting with Money- you always have to think about saving and not spending, Managers, Maids, Mother- in- law, Mutual Fund Investments that never yeild returns, mugging up the map of India with your 12 year old kid, Multi-tasking, Microsoft operating systems, Mallika Sherawat - my husband is her fan, Marriage, the Maruti-800 thats on the verge of death, and the list that leads to My MASALA syndrome is endless.
Middle age is usually between your late twenties and early sixties. About 30 years of your life, you live in the middle of nowhere, hoping to get somewhere at the end of it. You battle dark spots, wrinkles, stretch marks, and hairfall only to accept defeat, and when you touch the sixty mark you convince yourself that it is a natural phenomenon. The only two women who have won this battle with conviction are Shobha de and Hemamalini. I am 40 years old, and I have to fight 20 more years of middle age, before I am crowned as a senior citizen, and the Indian Railways can bestow me with economical fares.
Being the average Indian Woman who works in a corporate I need to juggle between my identity as a professional, wife, mother and a daughter-in-law. I need to keep up with the ever changing versions of softwares so that I am not termed as obsolete,and can battle out the game called appraisals on an equal platform with men who are half my age, and bear not even half of what responsibilities I carry. I need to update my wall quite often, treat and tweet along with the virtual society so that I can show the world that apart from being a woman with MASALA syndrome, I am pretty cool. I need to remind my husband who is more worried about stocks than our diminishing intimacy, that I might be a MASALA woman but I need love and loads of it to relax. I need to play Mortal Kombat with my kids and watch Animes with them, otherwise I get branded as a boring mom. I need to watch soap operas and visit temples along with my mother-in-law once in a while, so that I don't get branded as the outrageous, ill- mannered Bahu. My identity is caught between a smart professional, loving wife, interesting mom and obedience. At the peak of outrageous anxiety, the only four letter word I can use is Fool and nothing more. I constantly remind myself that I am a mother now, which means that I need to safeguard my kids from words that they ought not to know at their age.
If I ever refrain from wearing my Mangal Sutra or Bindi, it would be blasphemy. I not only need to carry responsibilities but wear them and showcase to the world that I am a married woman who suffers from the MASALA syndrome. Its been ages since I wore my trousers and shirts to office, while I still appreciate the women who carry off their trousers with a pair of gold bangles, toe rings and a little bit of Kumkum on their foreheads. At the same time, I find women of my age saying the common dialogue "How can I wear this ( what ever it is ) at this age?" Age never as anything to do with wearing things, sharing or for even pairing. Middle age is the only age where you are forgiven for a bulging tummy and out of shape body. Everyday, I need to swtich between gym clothes, office wear which is usually a Salwar Kameez and if its a friday, a saree and some appealing apparel for parties that my husband never cares to notice. Phew, I adorn a new attire for every avatar that I transform into as each day unfolds.
The only time I get for myself, is during my time at the parlour. I go to the parlour usually on Saturdays, to spruce up a little and feel good about myself. A facial would at least cover up my dark circles and never ending wrinkles. I don't even remember the last time I bought Pond's age miracle. It has been in my bag ever since and I keep reminding myself to get into a routine of applying it each night, but routines never change. Just as I get my strawberry pedicure done, my black berry would ring. My kids would ask me when I would be back home and demand for a Kinder Joy. Damn these advertisements. They know the perfect ways of getting kids to torment their parents. The other phone call would be from my maid, who'd invariably call to let me know that she wouldn't be coming the next day. I have instilled the corporate culture of calling up when you are taking leave in her.
Thanks to MASALA, my mother gave up singing when she was 26, after she became pregnant with me. She would often tell me that she gave up on her dreams so that I could achieve mine. I would often retort back saying stop cribbing and lamenting. I would quote " If there is a will there is a way". I dread the day when my daughter grows up and says the same thing to me. Until I got married, until I reached middle age and until I became a MASALA woman I never realised what Amma had gone through. Middle age makes you weigh your dreams against reality, and passion against practicality.
What makes Maska Chaska ( 50-50 ) biscuits taste better than Marie biscuits is the Masala. It is the MASALA that adds spice not only to our food but also to our lives. It makes our food eatable and life livable.
