Both of us were children of late seventies. This is where all similarities ended. She was a beautiful, successful businesswoman from Great Britain and I am, well, me : an Indian homemaker and freelancer.

Growing up her mother ensured that she knew how to make soaps while mine forced me to learn how to sew. Both our mothers belonged to different worlds, the first one, a teacher in a developed nation and the second, a housewife in a small town in a developing nation. Yet, seperated by oceans and economies the thought behind the actions was the same. We were the daughters, the future wives and guardians of our families. Education was important, but according to them, we needed something beyond that. We needed a tangible skill that would help us provide for our families if ever needed. A skill that would give our hands the strength to take care of ourselves and our loved ones. The skills that ensured we had the means to earn a living no matter what.
Being daughters, we resisted. It was beneath us, we were the women of a new independent world, we walked hand in hand with the men and if a man did not need these skills, we definitely had no use for them. It was a battle we heroically fought and lost.

Today, she runs a successful artisan soap and shampoo company and I design wedding apparel. Our moms struggled to give us a skill that was a safety net, instead they laid the foundation stones of our identities.