Thursday, March 8, 2012


As a mother, you’ve given me life. You’ve taught me to walk; read and eat with my own hands. You’ve halted your life so I may have mine. You’ve loved me without question. And you’ve hurt as I have, when I have. So much more when I seemed to flunk Sanskrit for no good reason.

As a sister, you’ve laughed with me; and you’ve laughed at me. You’ve conspired with me against enemies whose existence you took at my word. You’ve tried your level best to understand why Barbies were monstrous villains for them GI Joes. And you’ve listened patiently to me go on about nothing at all when I was hurt. (“Bhaiyya, you’re crazy”). Or when I was stupid (“Bhaiyya, you’re crazy”).

As a lover, you’ve taught me to need. To dream. You’ve taught me patience and the near infinite comfort of having someone caress your hair. You’ve laughed at all my jokes. You've smiled extra hard when I somehow fixed your computer. And you’ve given me reason to feel; to lose myself to that feeling.

Today, people will talk about how far women have come in terms of economics, suffrage and leadership. And that is great, even if only for how inevitable it was. Today, in some measure, the equality of the sexes will be discussed. But see, men and women aren’t created equal. Women are necessarily greater.
As women, all of you have come long measurable distances. As people who’ve defined my life, as the essays in strength, compassion and sacrifice that you are, that pales in comparison.

So yeah, I’ll make you that sandwich. And you can nag me about how I forgot to put enough mayonnaise in it.