Everyone has a dream. What would they be when they grow up, what would they do, buy, own. I too had a dream. In teenage years when one decides on profession or show inclination towards a vocation, I wanted to be a housewife. I had sorted it all in my head. Opposite to the general perception, I wasn't trying to run away from responsibilities but rather preparing to take on the job of managing a household/a family in all its seriousness.
I had prepared myself a five year project plan and a job list. I had resolved to set up a comfortable house in the first year and had planned to have four kids. I wanted to dedicate my life to cook warm food for them, stitch them beautiful clothes, keep them warm in winters, tell them stories, home school them and even write books for them. It was all that I wanted and cared.
When I look back fifteen years, I envy my dedication and clarity of thought. I wish I had the same power on my fate as I thought I had back then. Now, fifteen years since then, I still crave to feel a life grow inside my womb, to see its little fists boxing from inside, to see this little one open its eyes in my arms and cry for the milk supplies. To see the tiny fellow look like me, may be the same curls or even the smile.
Motherhood is not a thing to define womanhood. It is not even needed for a women to feel complete. But then what do I do with this only dream that I ever had. I don't know if my mother or any of my friends would have felt as fulfilling as I would have with a child hanging around my neck.
Motherhood is a feeling and childlessness is a condition. And none of this can define existence of a woman. The question was never that whether the society will accept me as a childless woman. The question is that will I be able to live with a forgotten dream
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