the question

Ms or Mrs?

"Miss or Missus?" He asked in a monotone, raising his head slightly from the form he was filling out. I was at a path lab to get a series of blood tests done to rule out malaria, typhoid, meningitis and jaundice. Okay, the last three were not on the doctor's prescribed list. The question lifted my spirits a little. Staying at home, exhausted by frequent fever and diarrhoea, does not bring much cheer. I thought, "Wow, he thinks i am still young enough to be a miss even though I have a nine-year-old son". He looked impatient and i quickly said, "missus". He wrote 'Mrs', followed by my name. But I am no longer a 'Mrs', I am a 'miss' again. Am I not divorced? It's so easy for guys. It's just 'Mr'. No one looks at a 30-year-old and asks, "Mister or master?" And anyways, Isn't writing 'Ms' politically correct for both Miss and Mrs? Before I could say I am actually a 'Ms again', he spat out the next question. "How many children?" Plural?! He thinks i am a mother of more than one child. My spirits deflated. "Only one", I said shortly sucking in my breath and tum trying to look like a yum mum. Blood delivered, I went to the X-ray department. "Married or single?" asked the attendant. I peeked; there was no other option on the form. No 'divorced/separated/ widowed/single-again/old-maid'. I said single. She looked at me suspiciously. So I told her I was married but not any more. I could see her confusion. Her colleague chipped in and chose Ms. The Ms vs Mrs dilemma, I found, dogged the single-again lot everywhere. At school PTAs, at airline ticket counters, at insurance offices, anywhere where a form was handed out. The women and child development ministry may want to rectify this anomaly too while it is trying to get adultery off the criminal angle. Indians love asking strangers personal questions. So colleagues or acquaintances randomly ask you, 'what does your husband do?' And if you decide to mention the 'd' word — divorced — voices drop, expressions take on a mournful look, and it's almost as if they are suddenly grieving. Then you can either play along or put them at ease with a smile that prompted the lab guy to ask Miss or Missus?

my son's advice

Hi
all u single moms out there.. Its a beautiful world.. so what if you aint getting any child support or any support for that matter from your ex, so what if he has gotten remarried and has another child and you are still wondering if you should start seeing guys again!

As my first post here goes.. this is something that i wrote last year and which appeared in october in toi..

My Son's Advice

Swati Deshpande

''Why did you get divorced?'' This was not a question I was equipped to answer close to midnight. So the an swer went, ''Sometimes, you know, two adults can't stay together''. Thankfully the questioner was accommodating enough and shot out the next question which literally took my breath away. ''Why don't you remarry?'' and an earnest ''You must'' followed. I was floored. I looked into his eyes and told my eight-year-old, ''Sure, I will''. I thought, how ironical — most single mothers would be worrying about whether their child would accept a new man in their lives. And here was my son who was telling me to get my act together and get him a new dad. ''I want a dad. Please find a nice guy. He must really be nice'', my son's voice broke my reverie. I stuttered, ''I will. But it's difficult''. The Spanish Inquisition went on. ''What about your colleagues?'' We both burst out laughing. ''Most of them are married'', said I, a little relieved. But the little monster would not stop. ''Most. Not all''. He will surely become a lawyer when he grows up, I thought quietly. I tried a different tactic. ''You know, first I must find a nice guy and then it's the guys who do the asking''. But the lad persisted. ''Not necessary. You can ask''. And with a final command to do just that, he wished me good night. Two days later I was woken up with ''So, did you ask?'' It took a second to register. And we both giggled. Only kids and bosses can follow up with such persistence. I had to admit I had not 'asked'. He looked a tad crestfallen. But immediately perked up with more suggestions, ''What about your friend's colleagues?'' Ever the escapist, I told him that it was breakfast time. This little fellow was certainly more evolved than even many young Indian men. The conversations did trigger a sense of panic. Was I letting my child down by not providing him with a complete family? Was I running out of time? It also made me realise that kids today are more mature. Sure it would be great to have two coffee mugs and one Ovaltine at the table. But what the heck?