All That’s Left
The story begins with my kindergarten teacher scolding my mother for forcing me to switch from my natural inclination toward the left. Finally, my mother gave up, and thus began the life of her left-handed daughter.
I was four, and my sister was just a month old. We hosted a gathering where all the aunties from our extended family came to see the baby. I wanted to hold my sister, so I asked my mom to hand her to me. But it seems her weight was too much for my tiny hands – I ended up dropping her. The room fell silent, and all the aunties turned to look at me like a lion eyeing a deer. In simple terms, they were ready to eat me alive.
Seventeen years later, my cousin gave birth to my only niece in the world. Again, I wanted to hold her, but this time, I carried the weight of my dwindling confidence. Despite my hesitation, my brother was incredibly supportive – he handed her to me, and unlike in the past, I held her with ease. That moment made me pause and reflect. What had changed? Then it hit me – the way he gave me the baby was exactly how a baby should be handed to someone who is left-handed.
Wow, I learned something new today! I must thank God for this. So, I caught a taxi to the temple. The driver, an elderly uncle, was really sweet. But before getting out, I asked, “Kitna hua?” (How much?). He replied, “35 rupees.” I quickly gathered all the coins I had and paid him. But just as I did, he said, “Baby, right haath se do, left se dena acha nahi hota.” (Pay with your right hand, it’s not good to hand over money with your left.) I was confused but didn’t argue and continued toward the temple.
After the puja, I went to collect the prasad (sweet offering) – because, let’s be honest, prasad is the most exciting part of praying! I reached out my hand to receive it, but the priest stopped me: “Baby, right haath aage karo, left se prasad lena acha nahi hota.” (Use your right hand; it’s not good to take prasad with your left.)
And that’s when I realized – there’s something different about me and the rest of the world. And now, there are two ways people typically handle such differences:
1.) Banishment – where others refuse to understand us, ostracize us, and exile us like Sita/Ram until we figure out how to use our right hand.
2.) Museum Approach – where people treat us as a fascinating curiosity, coming from far and wide to marvel at how cool or different it is that we use our left hand.
But don’t worry – this isn’t a court, and you don’t have to pick one of these two options. Like black and white always has gray, there’s a third way: Inclusivity.
It’s what ThoughtWorks (the company I work for) stands for. Being inclusive means acknowledging that people are different, realizing that it’s no big deal, and accepting them as they are – without making it a spectacle. It’s about inclusivity not just in thinking and actions but also in the work we do.
I’d like to share an interesting incident with you – when YouTube first introduced mobile uploads, they analyzed the data and found that a significant percentage of videos were upside down. When they looked into the issue, they realized they hadn’t accounted for left-handed users. As a result, videos recorded from a left-handed person’s perspective in landscape mode appeared inverted.
Bias creeps in without even knocking on the doors of our minds. It’s a mental shortcut, and we need to be conscious of it.
So, I started with an introduction – why not end with one? I know it’s not the norm, but well, aren’t I all about challenging norms?
This sense of inclusivity and awareness led to one of my greatest achievements. I was honored with the prestigious Google Anita Borg Scholarship for Women in Technology, Asia Pacific – an award given to just 50 women across the region.
Hi, I’m an APAC scholar. And just the other day, while unboxing all the gifts we received from Google, I found a beautiful Google mug. I decided this would be my morning milk cup. Excited, I picked it up, ready to show off the Google logo while drinking my milk… and then I realized – the logo wasn’t visible.
Because, guess what?
It was a right-handed cup.
Thank you so much, and keep watching out for – All That’s “Left.”
