Women of the Millenium

By Priyanka Varma

“Shoot for the moon, even if you miss, you’ll land-up amongst the stars.”
Women of the 1900’s gave us much to aspire for, almost causing a metamorphosis in the way we viewed our ambitions. It became a birth-right, rather than unconventional. From Indira Gandhi’s ferocious reign over India, to Queen Elizabeth’s ascetic rule over the throne, to Mother Teresa’s gentle ways, we got see the many facets of successful women.
So then the eager, unchaste and rebellious women of the millennium, decided to take their career ambitions a step-ahead, but also a step-back and include the joys of motherhood and domestication. When a bird is given the chance to flee the nest, it always flies back because the warmth and protection of a home and family is encouraging. So, as much as we women love to conquer new feats in our careers, we love coming-back home to the familiarity and love of a home and family. We make sure that the dinners on the table are as crisp and well turned-out as the products at work, and this balance makes us feel invincible. It’s a high like no other.
However, the struggles to create that balance often begins with the change in mindset. So, rather than being all feminist about it, and tipping the scales to a one-sided bias, let us accept and give credit to the those fathers, husbands, partners , uncles and brothers that sowed these seeds of aspirations and acceptance into former-patriarchal societies. Let’s not make it a power-struggle and give importance to each other towards our success.
This work-life balance, and all the sha-bang that is attached to it, is an accumulation of hardwork, meticulous planning, open-mindedness towards criticism and accepting eminent changes in life, to become better, more resilient and more fabulous version of ourselves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Dec 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9789388942973

Priyanka Varma

Priyanka Varma is a graduate of University Of Western Ontario, Toronto, Canada. She has lived in India, Middle East and Canada in her lifetime. She has done her schooling from Sacred Heart- Jamshedpur, Indian School Muscat - Oman and Milliken Mills High School - Canada.In addition to her ferver for writing, she is a trained finance professional. She has worked for leading organizations such as Astral Media and Union Bank Of Switzerland in Toronto asan analyst.Her first novel, The Rite To Love, was pubished in November of 2015. It was based on her observations on a live-in relationship with a backdrop of morsels of being married. Contrasting the two with the barometer of being accepted. She has also blogged for TOI (Times of India), published her book of poems, Genesis, in 2015 and is also in process of publishing her second book of poems, Enshrined, in memory of her late father, Manu Varma. During her high school years, she has volunteered for Women's College Hospital (Toronto) to raise awareness on post-partem care for women, Red Cross Canada and worked for a campaign called 'Rest Up- Save Your Neck' carried out by Insurance Bureau of Canada to raise awareness on injuries caused due to improper head-rest positioning in vehicles. She has also mentored troubled children for a program called 'Stand By Me' in London, Ontario (Canada) in university.Her hobbies include reading (voraciously, she devours any narrative with a consequence), swimming (lives for that first dive in the pool after long, morose winters), writing ( thinks itsthe best way to express your most impertinent understanding of the world) and cooking (validates the fascinating correlation between recipes and the ways in which they seduce all thefive senses).Currently, and infinitely ever, relishing in the realm of motherhood. She is a mom to her 7 year-old, daughter named Aanya. In the future, she would like to publish more books. Professionaly,she is working as an accounts payable specialist with an MNC.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

NEYHA

It was 4.30 AM. Neyha managed to cave-out of her slumber. She looked out of her breezy, chiffon curtains at the ashy, grey sky with a golden lining. Yes, a golden lining instead of a silver one, more precious, more promising and more pious because it was the holy month of Ramadan. The entire colony of Al-Khuwair, lined with homes inspired by the Roman-era, art deco walls and neo-classical columns,, awakened to the entrancing morning prayers from the mosques. The same words, the same rhythm, but each day was dedicated to the Lord in the hopes of new dreams being fulfilled.

It was too late for Neyha and her brood, as she looked to her right and her three girls – Sonia, Mishka and Kareena, were snoring away to glory, literally belching out last night’s feast – a different symphony from the one she got to hear from the prayers. What was wrong with her? Such a bad woman she was, moreover, a worse mother, being unable to wake up and get ready for prayers!

She knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it when she finally managed to step downstairs with her girls in tow, their pyjamas slipping off because the string wasn’t too tight, or for the shabby braids because they had no time after bathing. Her aunts, the seniors of the house, were as always bickering about her tardiness. Neyha, come quickly and stir this haleem for me. I am burning from the sparks. Called out her juniormost aunt, Hafsa. Hafsa had literally been a strong pillar of strength for Neyha from the time she was only ten, when her mother had passed away. But, family to her was Nadeem and their kids.

Neyha was married off at the age of 15 to Nadeem, the owner of three clothing stores, and her neighbour, who also happened to be the he richest man of their colony. Her mother was worried because she had no husband and no income, so the people might haveassumed e bad things about her daughters, maybe even accused them of being prostitutes. There were rumours flying around in the areas of Dubai that men were trying to snatch young girls and sell them in other countries. She wasn’t old enough to realise any of this.

Very nonchalant about her wedding day, she looked around a room full of ladies with eager eyes and naughty smiles. Dolled up in a velvet, red sharara with gold embroidery and traditional heavy jewellery, which was more to flaunt the wealth of the family than their contentment. There were songs and whistles as she was done the ceremony and in walked her betrothed with gifts and a garland.

He bent over to put the garland around her and took a ginormous sniff of her neck, signalling that he was ready for the action to begin. As if that bit of subtle foreplay wasn’t it, he grabbed onto her left wrist, and gave it a tight squeeze. It was known to be a subtle sign of the pain that was to be anticipated on the wedding night, that the grooms often conveyed to their brides when they put the ring