She was quick and generous. She had graciously honoured my offer. But, that was the last time I heard her say `yes' to me. Now, I am duly subdued. Totally tamed. I sit down when asked. Stand up when told. The lady who once knitted for me now feels the need to needle me. And I have lived and enjoyed 30 `awed' years of this connubial bliss. Is it not long enough to bring about a change? To make a mouse out of any man?'' was my whispered, though rather eloquent, response.

According to our scriptures, marriage was a union of two souls. For a lifetime. Only death could do the two apart. Hindu law treated marriage as a sacrament. And truly, therelationship was sacred. It was based upon selfless love and affection. I recall my mother. She was loving. Caring. She worked hard. Day and night. The family was comparatively large. But her needs were few. We were her whole world. Her love was our total treasure. Her heart was our preparatory school. Compassion, love and tolerance were the primary lessons. Whenever any one of us went out, he was terribly home-sick.

Many decades have passed since then. We have witnessed the change in values. Marriage, which was a sacrament, is now a simple contract. It can be annulled. The two souls can be judicially separated. The two human beings can be divorced from each other. Even the children can be equitably shared. In an anxiety to ensure equality, the law has created anomalies. The concept of contract has given a commercial hue to a totally human relationship.

Today, contentment is conspicuous by its absence. The family is small. But the needs have multiplied. The priorities have changed. With development, weface a devaluation of values. An acute crisis of character. Gold and not God has become our master. We have come to believe that a mask of gold can hide all the bodily deformities. We look for fast cars to get away from homes. Not for homes to stay in.

To meet the changing needs of the family, almost every mother has to do some job. She has to work and earn. She has to look after the house also. She has a heavy schedule. She works the whole day. Exhausted, she reaches home. Immediately, the children demand attention. However, the mother wants silence. The children wait for a gentle word. A kind look. A godly smile.

The mother looks for total peace. An undisturbed quiet. Everyone off her sight. The children feel neglected. They are even hurt. The mother is angry. The child is upset. The first seed of domestic disgust is sown. The rest shall follow.

Then, there is the mother who belongs to the rich elite. She does not go out for work. But she has to visit the health club. To stay in shape. To be able totalk about it. Also, the beauty parlour. Daily. To look good. Before attending the kitty party. Or going to play cards. At home, the ayah officiates for her. The child grows up in her lap. The mother has no time to hear the baby cry. Or to wipe the tears.

The unsympathetic home, an uncaring family and an indifferent mother provide the breeding grounds for crime, criminals and violence. And no wonder the neglected children grow up to be juvenile delinquents or angry young men. The children, who should be a source of love, care and comfort in old age, only help you to reach it faster.