Celebrating Women’s Day

Yesterday, I woke up an hour earlier than usual so that I could get suitably attired and rush to an early morning gathering of the city’s most eminent women at a south Mumbai convention hall to celebrate Women’s Day.

On my way, I bumped in to some old friends who I hadn’t met for a long time who asked me to join them for a cup of coffee at a Barista nearby.

“I would have loved to but can’t,” I said, “I have to rush to this meeting to celebrate Women’s Day.”

At the meeting amongst the top women of the city — journalists, accountants, doctors and lawyers — the mood was celebratory and energetic.

Women dressed in beautiful Kanjeevarams and Patolas went up on stage, applauded each others speeches, accepted and gave flowers and posed for pictures. A TV channel asked me to say a few words on camera about Women’s Day. “Not just now,” I said, “I am expected in Juhu at another function in an hour to celebrate Women’s Day.”

At this function, I noticed the attendees were different from the women at the morning’s function. This time the ladies were dressed more in salwar kameezes, and not all of them in silk. But the speeches were the same — and so were the flowers and group photographs, and at the end of the function the organisers asked me to stay for lunch, but I apologised,  “Sorry, not this time,” I said, “I have to go to a mid-town women’s polytechnic which is felicitating a dozen women with awards on the occasion of Women’s Day.”

At this award ceremony, the women were dressed differently than at the first two functions, in skirts and business suits, but besides that the speeches, the flowers and the posing for photographs were the same as before.

I noticed the women attending looked a little tired — but may be that was my imagination. I was asked to stay for tea and speak to the awardees, but I had to apologise.

“Would have loved to,” I said, while rushing to the exit. “But my bank is hosting a tea in honour of its women customers on the occasion of Women’s Day — and they’ll kill me if I don’t show up.”

At the bank, the women were dressed in skirts, both gathered and slim line, and empire dresses but the speeches, the flowers and the posing for photographs was exactly the same as earlier. I was already at the door when they asked me to stay back for some tea and biscuits. “No, no I can’t,” I said. “There’s a wine and cheese do at a jewellry store on the occasion of Women’s Day which I promised to attend…”

At the jewellry store, there were more of the same speeches and flowers and photographs and this time I could have sworn that the women did indeed seem a little wilted around the edges.

I was about to go home, when I got an sms from a night club on Linking road inviting me to a ‘let your hair down rocking party exclusively for divas and devis’ so I asked my driver to take me there.

At this party there were women dressed in all kinds of clothes, minis, jeans, empire-cut dresses and peasant top blouses and there were more speeches, flowers photographs but the women looked unmistakably exhausted.

I was about to call it a night when the Deejay asked me to come on stage and say a few words about Women’s Day.

“All of us gathered here have been celebrating Women’s Day all day today,” I said. “And thank God it comes only once a year.”

s_malavika@dnaindia.net