Appu Ghar

Inequality.

Disguised in subtle everyday minutiae, like dresses vs shorts, long vs short hair, physical markers dictated the obvious not sameness. Cemented slowly with nuanced behavioral dictum, speak softer, sit differently, that’s because he’s a boy, and well, you are not. Two older brothers, and being the only girl meant the brewing of discontent started early.

The first vivid memory that marks the true beginning for me though was Appu Ghar. I must’ve been no older than 7, we were home for the holidays. We lived in Pune, but vacationed in Delhi, our parents’ maternal homes. For days there was talk of this magical amusement park, Appu Ghar! It was supposed to be the highlight of the holidays that year. My father had the Yezdi motorbike, that was going to transport us to this incredible adventure. So, on the morning that we were supposed to experience the wonders of Appu Ghar, I stood in the driveway, giddy with excitement, to get on to the tank in the front, my designated seat, only to have my heart broken.

It wasn’t because all the reasons of traffic cops and distance weren’t legit, it was because it was the boys that got to go, obviously, instead of me. It was the fact that it was the only choice for them. I didn’t matter. I was bumped off the plan, held back by my mother, who was upset that I didn’t get why I couldn’t go. She had spent a better part of nearly a decade diligently teaching me my place in the world after all.

I’ve often wondered why the acceptance gene completely missed me. Like when the starter kit was being handed out with the vaginas, I must’ve bent down to tie a shoelace or something. I never got it that day in the Janak Puri driveway, not through my education and I’ll be honest, at 45, I’m still enraged at the inequality that just is.

My resentment towards my brothers died down though, they are kind men who want to do better. There is intent, and I guess that is the beginning of all change. Intent. I know, it’s a low bar.

I had a plan, if I worked hard, and followed my brothers “be an independent woman” guidebook, then I would matter. I would be equal. So, I did, I made it to a master’s program, and got my first shiny internship at the largest retailer in Delhi, and marched right on to balancing the patriarchal scale. Or so I thought.

The average vagina is 3 inches in a woman’s body, unequally shortchanged to its male counterpart of 5 inches. 3 inches that macerate the hefty dreams, thoughts, foolhardy aspirations of being more than. My first month as a buying intern, and all I was to my bosses’ boss, was a shiny little vagina. By your early twenties, you are well versed with sexual harassment. The world is full of leering, touchy disgusting men, but this was work. Surely the rules were different? A rickshaw driver was uneducated, under privileged, and yet the bosses boss looked at me no differently.

I picked up the phone in tears to my brother and told him what was going on. He’s all of 5 years older than me and doled out the best advice he could. The advice a boy brought up through patriarchy’s masculinity lens could give to protect his own little sister. I was a working woman now, grow up and understand that is the way of the world. It’s just the beginning, so keep your head down, and get on with it. I did. I came up with immaculate avoidance techniques, garnered the best support I could around me, and escaped the leering old man, at least that one.

23 years later, I had clawed my way to the top of something. I had worked 4 times as hard as the men, I had fought bloody tooth and bloodier talon, and with my vagina, made it to the C-suite of a billion-dollar company. Change it. That was what I was going to do, move my immediate world from well-meaning intent to impact. I was naïve enough to think that If I could impact this cohort, it would’ve been worth the Yezdi bump off.

That working hard, finally having a seat at the table, being all about the content and intent, would be enough, enough for the impact that was 135 years overdue.(Yes, the global gender gap stands at 135.6 years according to the World economic Forum 2021 report).

I lost. The Yezdi bump off and the final argument on a zero-tolerance policy. After 23 years, I couldn’t change the sexual harassment narrative. Even though I had a seat at the top, I lost.

The acceptance gene is still missing though. I’ll accept this loss and get a new game plan. I’ll find new talons and this time, aim for a bigger mountain, and I will contribute to change it. From this dystopian reality to an equal world, for all genders.

This time, I am going to Appu Ghar, and I will be the one driving that Yezdi.