I am the self-crowned goddess of many things and sometimes many silly things. With an attention span of a butterfly, I have mastered the fine art of 'fluttering in many ways but flying in none

Bandana Tewari on her 'Goddess Space', which remains her very own environment to control as she will - to command, cajole, sneer and surrender - with no intention whatsoever of conquering alien territories

Hindu goddesses, we know, wielded many weapons in many hands. The thought of brandishing auniverse-invoking conch in one, a spiritual trishul in the second, a prayer bead in the third and a sword in the fourth, may sound utterly empowering to you. But to me, a pacifier in one (to plug a nasty war cry that my two-year-old has just mastered) and a spatula in the other (to threaten the plumber with dire consequences) have, all in all, evoked a similar sense of unadulterated power. I am not sure if 'goddess' is an entity as much as it is a magical space in my head.

This 'Goddess Space' is all about being in control of my own environment. I command, I cajole, I sneer and I surrender. All within my space. I have no intention whatsoever of conquering alien territories.

We are told goddesses in mythology always expounded their virtues. There are such tall tales of their accomplishments that it's terribly difficult trying to convince my two-year-old, who looks at me with wide-eyed wonderment, that I am in fact the real goddess in her life. Surely I am a goddess? I allow her to 'poo-poo' on my prized stamp collection. I let her run crayons on my cashmere and I certainly don't punish her for pulling my shirt down and screaming, "Mama's boobies!" when I am in sombre company.

I am the kind of woman who makes up her mind and is then full of indecision. I tire easily of kind words wasted on social sewage and I'm quite gleefully a horrific cook. But I can do fabulous table settings and hold the record for reading two chapters of Paradise Lost in one breath. I am a hopeless romantic preserving, amongst others things, an autumn-worn leaf from a weeping willow that fell on my lap in the year 1988, as I played with my pigtails and mused about the man who would be the king of my heart.

Talking of which, I am so his goddess. He has never made an attempt to understand me as one would Pythagoras' theorem. What he does understand is that in an era of core-competency and absolute focus, I am the self-crowned goddess of many things and sometimes many silly things.

[ Verve contributor, Bandana Tewari's daily routine of being a goddess starts with her being playfully tongue-in-cheek and ends up being dangerously foot-in-the-mouth. The author is a Mumbai-based freelance writer.]