July 9, 2021
It must have been 1969 or 1970. My brother, a boy cousin, and I were practicing simple jiujitsu moves under the guidance of a man who came home to give oil-massages to my father. The man was large and strong but gentle and controlled when he handled us nine, and ten-year-olds. He told fascinating stories about his days in Japan learning both martial arts and healing massage. He demonstrated some amazing feats, and we eagerly pushed our bodies to copy them. My mother did not approve of how we shoved back all the furniture every Saturday morning, and tossed around on her plush red carpet. What she hated most though was me learning jiujutsu. She had forbidden me to join them, but I snuck in anyway. I was already tomboyish and got into fist-fights with the boys in the compound, climbed the trees no-one else dared, and attempted crazy feats in the swimming pool. Our family was very patriarchal, very traditional and girls had definite roles to fit into. My mother was afraid how I would negotiate the family expectations as I grew and she locked me in my bedroom every Saturday afternoon, hoping that I would course correct. My father would rescue me, whisk me away to watch live cricket, followed by large chocolate sundaes at Bombelli’s.
When my father died, after a prolonged illness, in 1970, life changed. I felt alone and abandoned. The man who massaged my father didn’t come anymore but my brother and cousin were allowed to enrol in karate lessons after school. I grew defiant and aggressive and my mother, who later studied child psychology to learn how to handle me, now punished me by locking me in my father’s study. Our family home was built on a hill and was surrounded by a garden and trees on three sides. One side dropped sharply to the main road and here there were difficult to access spaces where the vegetation grew wild. It was here that I used to find refuge from the family I didn’t fit into. The study had large windows which overlooked the main garden and almost every evening, I enviously watched my cousins play there. Yet I refused to tame my rebellion and I wasn’t going to let anyone see how upset I was. The light wood panelled room had a comfortable sofa and shelves of books, that I began reading. There were novels and mystery books but also books on history, politics, and biographies of world leaders like Churchill and Martin Luther King. I stopped yearning for the outdoors and physical activity and transferred my passions into books and knowledge. I used to be a bold girl with a lot of friends, but this isolation changed me into a shy and socially awkward, almost geeky, girl. At first my grades in school worsened but later I formulated a plan to study hard, get a scholarship and escape my suffocating joint family.
When I was 18, right after the 12th grade, I escaped to the University of Michigan with the help of an older male cousin. In our family nobody has been allowed to study abroad. My cousin’s dreams to move away had been thwarted, and though he was now married and entrenched in work he helped convince my uncles to let me leave.
At University I had the freedom to pursue whatever I wanted but I did not think of learning martial arts. In fact, except for walking, I had become a complete indoor lounger as the eight years that followed my father’s death had completely altered my personality. I had become interested in academic challenges and not those of the body. I chose to study Physics because it was difficult, but I suspect also because my family often said, ‘Girls don’t do Science.’ It is sad that I made decisions about my life based not on what I wanted from within myself but on what my family would disapprove of. With these beginnings, I had years to journey before I began to truly understand my emotions, my childhood imprints, and find my way back to my loves.
No comments:
Post a Comment