Column

People who have a single child who happens to be a girl are a proud minority

Last week’s Metronama was an ill-tempered — and I concede, ill-advised — rant against reservation in colleges. I have changed my mind about quotas; a week is a long time in the world of columnists, especially those like me who have daughters of college-going age. It is gratifying that these days few people say, “My daughter is of marriageable age.”

Last night, my wife told me, “Raghu, stop watching that sansani crime programme at once and let your daughter tune into news; she is of Barkha-Dutt-able age now.” I had to abandon the saga of a man who trapped beautiful women and promising marriage, stole their credit cards. I was musing in bewilderment about the over-elaborate ploy of the silly man - I simply let my wife pay - when my daughter shoved me off to watch a story about white-collared fraud.

I am so proud of her. And I am proud of myself, and my wife that we have a single child who is a girl. (There seems so much pride in the Raghuraman household that we could easily pass off as languid lions). Anyway, after reflecting on the idiot who broke his marriages after stealing money, a clear case of killing the goose with a gilded credit limit, I pondered the matter of reservations for people like myself.

My wife and I have chosen to be parents of a single child. And having already been rewarded by providence — for our population-lowering sacrifice — with a girl child, I think it is time that the government offers us an incentive. I am told Sharad Pawar, who also has a daughter as a single child, had advocated the cause for special treatment for people like us. It is wonderful to be, at last, on common ground with Mr Pawar. The last time such a congruence occurred was when I was a young reporter covering one of his press conferences. I was in row 1176.

At any rate, it makes sense to have quotas for single girl children because such kids are born into a society in which they are a dreaded minority. We all know that even today, many families across India begin to display panicky grief when a girl child is born. Their faces contort into the look of a terrorist who is about to be executed when he is tantalisingly close to destroying his quota of 25 countries.

But there are a minority of parents in India who feel incredibly blessed when a girl child is born, and that feeling does not waver when some relations who live in the caves offer condolences for bearing “misfortune”.

My only misfortune is that there is no minority quota for girls like my daughters in any colleges. Maybe that is so because we are a silent minority. Let’s speak up, parents of my breed. Our time has come, Kapil paaji is on our side.
raghu@dnaindia.net