The maternal father
This 'n' that
By Renee Ranchan

MATERNAL papas, yes, they have arrived. A phenomenon of the nineties. Of course, you will find them only in the metros and adjoining towns. With paternal parenting becoming prominent, the papa-where-are-you whine has been muffled. Mothers now are not the sole primary care-givers as in changing the infant’s nappies, bathing the baby and cooing lullabies.

The nineties father is just as good with these ‘chores’ as well. Sure, he may not jump with joy when it is his turn to sterilise with little muffin’s bottles, mix formula and burp the little bundle of joy, but the intimacy, the bond that he establishes with the baby as a result of this active nurturing may perhaps not be as close as the one with the mother. Yet it measures close enough. And this bonding, this tie commences even before the child is born. Would-be papas begin to interest in the baby’s development even before he is born. They eagerly, solicitiously accompany the wife to the doctor for the prescribed check ups — no, it is not the job of Nani-to-be any more. Soothing music cassettes are bought — the would-be mother is told to kick off her sandals, curl up on the sofa and ‘lend her ear’ to the positive energy that music generates. Name dictionaries are bought and the christening begins for that perfect name. The meaning, the sound, both must be right.

A doctor I happened to share a table with at a wedding reception told me ‘things had gone so far’ that husbands wish to accompany their wives to the labour room to participate in the process, of child birth if only be proxy. The idea behind the exercise: something is better than nothing. The doctor also added how initially such requests made her cringe visibly. What about ‘pregnancy etiquette’, demanded this doctor. Many would-be pops, however, feel it’s a ‘man’s place’ to be very much in the delivery room, holding on to the wife’s hand and being able to see ‘his baby’ draw his first breath. Raman, one such would-be daddy even switched doctors midway his wife’s pregnancy only because the gynaecologist refused to let him ‘participate in the child birth experience’. He tells you that in America husbands had access to the labour room as far back as two decades. ‘Here in India, the idea still shocks our sensibilities! he sighs.

To chug on... what, however, could be the reason for this very articulate, or call it vivid, change? Why are today’s fathers pushing for a defined paternal role? They do not wish to displace the mother from her numero uno status in the child’s life but they want to participate. Active participation, which involves more than just bringing home the bread, butter and yes, jam. Shall we try to spot out the reasons?

Till 10, or actually let’s say 15, years ago, the father was the man who would leave for work early in the morning, return in the evening, hungry and tired. The picture projected was that the man led this sort of life to keep the kitchen fire burning. It was the woman — the mother — who was there to look after the quota of emotional needs.

Society, too, had mapped out distinct roles — child rearing was a woman’s domain. Men, thus, believed that carrying and cuddling a child was indicative of being in possession of feminine genes. Something like men do not watch mushy, get-those-tear-ducts-started movies and are never supposed to cry, either in public or private. So if some daddys happened to feel marginalised in the rearing process no one dared to let on.

But before proceeding, one point should be clarified: when the then father returned home after punching in overtime and felt too tired to deal with noisy children; the kids understood. Discipline came with the father. This, however, does not mean that the father was a fear-instilling figure. He would want to know how the kiddies were doing in school, whether Bittoo’s cough was better and then, yes, announce a picnic outing the coming Sunday. Moving back to present times, how about glancing at a few hot-favourite advertisements? All representing the maternal papa. There’s this face cream ad: A gentleman carries his baby in a sling bag, securely tied across his chest. And the look of contentment is worth million dollars. Then there is the commercial where a young mom takes shots of her husband with their bonny baby. The dad — who incidentally is ruggedly handsome, yet reveals a softness, a tender glow — is seen rocking a blanketed baby with the finesse of a grandmum. Another commercial on T.V. shows a father getting his baby’s crib ready. Nothing to beat that personal touch. He paints the baby cot himself. When the brand new mum returns from hospital, with her brand new babe the expression is of undiluted glee, love and much more... manages to bring tears to your eyes. And what about the one where a man, all suited and booted arrives in his limousine for the most important appointment — a lunch meeting with his five-year-old baby girl. And no, no gourmet meal can compete with the lunch both partake from the little girl’s plastic tiffin.

Yes, the modern man is marketed as the man with a mother’s heart. One who wears his fatherhood on his sleeve and finds the ultimate luxury in sinking into a quagmire of baby paraphernalia on his return home. And who finds profound delight in the unfolding wonderment of ‘his baby’s’ life.

To move away from the world of ads.... Other reasons for the emergence of the caring ‘n’ sharing papa: more and more women have careers, just as challenging as their husbands’. And with the joint family fast becoming a foggy memory, couples have only each other to fall back on. Daddy has to be roped in, in this climate. (Though today’s papas would disagree with this line of thinking.) Yes, in many cases that is how dads have to ‘parent shoulder-to-shoulder’ with their wives. Literature of the self-help variety dealing with various parenting aspects has flooded the market. Many articles on child-rearing pop up intermittently in magazines. Co-parenting, its significance for the psychological development of the child, invariably is an issue talked about. Women, of course, could not be happier.

Father of four-year old Suchi explains, "As soon as Suchi was born, I changed jobs. My previous job involved a lot of travelling — I did not want to miss out on watching her grow up and more importantly I understood how essential it is for the child’s self-esteem and confidence to have a nurturing father". And the baby’s mother glowingly tells you how ‘Daddy dear’ does anything and everything for Suchi. About his hands-on participation in bringing up their little angel even to the point of ‘singing-voiced lullabies when she gets up in the middle of the night.

Forget the reasons for the emergence of the maternal papa. Do they really matter? What matters is he will kiss your tears away, lovingly tousle your hair and take you out for a trek. Is that not delightfully, no refreshingly, homespun? Can anyone ask for more?