I was recently reading Indra Nooyi’s My Life in Full: Work, Family, and Our Future. One of the remarkable aspects of the narrative is how Indra continuously discusses gender roles and her attempts to rationalise them. In one instance, she points out how, when she had become the president of PepsiCo and came home with glee, her mother, instead of appreciating her, remarked, “You may be the president or whatever of PepsiCo, but when you come home, you are a wife and a mother and a daughter. Nobody can take your place. So you leave that crown in the garage.”
Her mother’s advice to “leave that crown in the garage” emphasises the societal expectations placed on women.
Later in the book, Nooyi reflects on how her mother might have better appreciated her accomplishments if she were a man. This resonated with me, especially when juxtaposed with an article on Infosys co-founder N.R. Narayana Murthy. In some ways, the article seemed to appreciate the hard work and dedication of men such as Mr. Murthy. Yes, it acknowledged that he was only a ‘bonus dad’ but he does remain an ideal of a proud Indian father. These narratives highlight the contrasting perceptions of male and female professionals in India.
I know that one of my mother’s cousin who was an engineer, just stayed back at home after marriage. There are many instances of women who hardly get appreciated for their studies or for the work that they do outside their homes. It seems an accepted fact that once they marry, their lives are dictated or marked by what their in-laws expect them to do. A classic example has been the Malayalam film The Great Indian Kitchen.
Such incidents and narratives make me ponder why talented and skilled women in India often find themselves making significant sacrifices. Instances of women being undervalued for their academic achievements or professional contributions are not uncommon. Even in contemporary times, the predominant societal mind-set dictates that women should prioritise traditional roles over pursuing impactful careers.
My own experiences mirror this dichotomy. When I got a doctorate and was a full-time employee at a university, the outlook among many was not my being an academic but my being a wife, mother, and daughter. If I sat to read or write, it was always thought by friends and relatives that it was okay to disturb me, but when I saw men indulging in these activities, it was treated with the utmost seriousness.
The question that emerges is: How can we alter this perspective?
Firstly, educational institutions must instil in women the awareness that they are more than mere role players — they are individuals with unique identities and ambitions. Secondly, women need to recognise the importance of nurturing their own identities, even if it requires rebellion and protest against societal norms. Developing courage is essential to avoiding constant sacrifices.
Thirdly, women should stand in solidarity with each other. Fostering a strong sense of unity is crucial for garnering appreciation. Finally, workplaces should establish robust women’s cells that actively address issues. Many women stay silent in the face of harassment due to the perceived ineffectiveness of existing support systems. To empower women in patriarchal environments, creating safe and supportive spaces is imperative.
In aspiring for change, I hope to see more Indian women breaking glass ceilings, akin to pioneers such as Indra Nooyi and Priyanka Chopra. These women serve as inspirations, demonstrating that with determination and courage, societal perspectives can evolve.
kalpanarao1@gmail.com
