The Scooty That Carried More Than Three

Hello! Welcome back!

Let me give you a heads up before we dive in.

This blog is one of those rare ones that was actually planned. I know. Shocking. A flumberer with a plan. Don't get used to it.

This is something I have felt for a long time, quietly, in some corner of my heart - but never really had the time, place, or courage to say out loud. Now that I have my own little space on the internet and absolutely no one stopping me, here we are.

The topic?

The women who grew up alongside me - the ones my age, my era, my chaos - and why I would never, not for a single second, trade those friendships for anything.

But more than that - it is a question I have been sitting with for a while now.

Am I my own person? Or am I simply a beautiful, chaotic sum of every woman who has ever walked into my life?

Let's find out together.

It started before I even knew what was happening…

I come from a family where girls have always outnumbered boys - and not just in numbers but in sheer force of personality. On my mother's side, we are fifteen girls and five boys. On my father's side, five sisters and two brothers. The boys, bless them, never really stood a chance.

My mother's sister, मौसी, has seven daughters. Seven. Each one with a personality sharper than the next. Hardworking, intelligent, and the kind of women who hold their ground even when the ground is shaking beneath them. They managed their homes, their parents, their agricultural land, and their careers - all at once, without flinching, without complaining, and without compromising on their dreams.

Growing up in UP, where boys traditionally had the upper hand, my cousins quietly rewrote the rules without making a speech about it. My sister Anita and I had the privilege of watching this up close every single summer vacation. We did not realise it then, but those summers were doing something to us. Shaping us. Quietly and completely.

The first and the strongest - Anita 🌸

My first real friendship was not with a classmate or a neighbour. It was with my own blood sister, Anita.

I could write an entire blog about her - and honestly, one day I will. But for now, just this.

From the moment I can remember having any sense of the world, Anita was my whole world in it. Every single day, I would wait outside our Navy rental home for her school bus to arrive. The moment she stepped off, I would follow her like a puppy follows its favourite human - tail wagging, zero dignity, fully worth it. 🐾

Even in situations where I was clearly, objectively wrong, she had my back. She would hit me from behind, sure, but the world and our parents always knew - we were never going to snitch on each other. Not at any cost. That was the unspoken rule. It still is.

New city. New language. New everything.

When we moved from Dehradun to Mumbai, I landed in a city that spoke a different language, ate different food, and operated at a speed I was completely unprepared for. I went from 'Hum' and 'Aap' to 'Main' and 'Tu' overnight. Nothing made sense.

And in the middle of all that confusion, I found friendship.

Nikita - my sister's best friend, from a family of four daughters, no sons.

Sonam - my best friend, from a family of two daughters, no sons.

Are you noticing a pattern? Because I definitely am now. 😄

Sonam and her sister Khubsu are, without any exaggeration, living breathing examples of a phoenix. These girls have risen from situations that would have broken most people, and they have done it with grace, grit, and absolutely no fuss. Their parents never had to worry about not having a son - because these two proved from a very young age that there is nothing a son could have done that they could not do better. They have made their parents proud at every step and continue to do so.

Virar to Churchgate fast local…

For my Bachelor's degree, I went to St. Xavier's College - and it was a world I had never seen before. The way people spoke, what they spoke about, how they dressed, how they carried themselves. Everything was new and, if I am being honest, a little intimidating too.

But here again, I found a friend. Saloni - aka Loni.

Now I should mention that I was majoring in Physics at this point, which tells you everything you need to know about the extent of my flumbering. Physics. Me. I still do not fully understand how that happened. But Loni? Saloni actually understood Physics. Like, genuinely, deeply understood it. She went on to get a PhD in Physics from Brown University - which makes her, officially, the most academically qualified person in my circle. I feel it is important to document this. 😄

But beyond the degrees, Saloni taught me something that no classroom could - the importance of self-respect and feeling confident in who you are, no matter where you come from, how you speak, or how you dress. A lesson I did not know I needed as badly as I did.

The college years - Backbenchers Pvt. Ltd. 📚

When I moved to college, I somehow ended up spending most of my time with a large group of boys. We called ourselves Backbenchers Pvt. Ltd. - because we were always at the back bench, always daydreaming, and clearly going places. Eventually. Slowly.

In my second year, I found Chetana. Chetu, as I call her. And somewhere between boring lectures and bad canteen food, she became the person I call first - for the good news and the bad, the celebrations and the breakdowns.

I have watched her go from a quiet, slightly nervous college girl to an absolute mama bear over the years. The kind of transformation that makes you proud in a way you cannot fully put into words. 🥹

Enter: The real world. And a manager who changed everything.

Leaving college meant leaving behind the comfortable bubble of spending parents' money and answering to teachers. Suddenly there were managers, deadlines, and a whole new set of rules to figure out.

That is where I met Meenakshi.

I walked in with every preconceived notion a person can have about working under a female manager. And within weeks, every single one of those notions was dismantled so thoroughly that I am almost embarrassed to admit I had them.

Meenakshi showed me what real dedication looks like - not by telling me, but by doing it every single day in front of me. She taught me, through her actions alone, why you always stand up for what you believe is right. She is raising a headstrong and beautiful daughter while leaving absolutely no stone unturned at work. The woman multitasks at a level that genuinely makes me question my own capabilities. 😄

A few years later, another woman joined our team. Juili. More than half a decade younger than me and somehow already an inspiration. She is the kind of person who quietly reminds you to follow your heart and do the things you actually love - not just the things that make sense on paper. Watching her perform her Kathak routine was what finally pushed me to join tabla classes.

Life in the 30s - a new family, more women, same energy.

Marriage brought me into a family where, once again, females outnumber the males. Naturally. Because apparently this is just how my life works. 😄

I have two sisters in law - Anjali and Ankita - each carving out a life that is entirely and unapologetically their own.

Anjali is building a business where she is quite literally shaping the future of this country through her students. Ankita is navigating a new city, a new job, and the new responsibilities of life as a daughter in law - all at once and all with a quiet kind of courage that I deeply admire.

And then there is the newest and youngest member of this unofficial army of women in my life. My little niece, Gauri. She is about to turn three this September. Three years old, and already I can see it - something intelligent and quietly fierce behind those eyes. I hope the world is kind to her. And I hope she is never afraid to be unkind back to it when it isn't. 🌸

The point of mentioning all of this?

I am not saying the women around me - or women in general - are perfect. They have their own rules, quirks, tempers, and habits that are not necessarily for everyone.

And in my case, it is not like we talk every day or only have good memories between us. I honestly cannot remember the last time Sonam and I shared moments the way we used to. Or the last time Saloni and I spoke in person. But here is what I am saying.

The next time you notice something about me - the dress I wore the other day, the way I reacted in a tough situation, or the way I responded to a rude person - chances are it was inspired by a woman I have seen, read about, or heard about. I am, in many ways, a collection of quiet lessons taught by women who did not even know they were teaching.

Where is all of this coming from?

Here is something I genuinely believe. Somewhere, at some point, one of these women raised her voice - maybe just a little, maybe just once - in a small corner of a house the world never noticed. And that one quiet act of courage set off a chain of events that eventually, somehow, found its way to me.

Maybe one woman said no when it was hard to. Another said yes when everyone told her not to. Someone chose herself when it would have been far easier not to. And because she did - somewhere down the line, I did too. Without even knowing where I had learned it from.

That is the butterfly effect of women standing up for themselves. 🌸

The sacrifices were not always loud. They were not always celebrated or even noticed. But they were always felt - rippling forward through daughters, nieces, friends, colleagues, or local train companions. Sometimes even through gossip that somehow stuck with you longer than it had any right to. 😄 Either way, those moments travelled. And quietly, without permission, they became a part of who we are.

I am, in many ways, standing on the shoulders of women who never got the credit they deserved for the ground they broke. The least I can do is acknowledge that. 🌸

So now I am asking myself one more time: Am I my own person - or a sum of the women around me?

Yes, I am my own person.

But I am also every woman who ever showed me what being your own person could look like.

And maybe that is exactly how it is supposed to be. 🌸