True faces, different selfs and the madman with the looking glass....

Dear Reader, sometimes there are days when I go on thinking and thinking, musing about the meaning of life and the life that I lead, and the kind relationships that I have with people. I wish I was dynamic and that people would take me seriously.

I suppose when one is the sort to find humour in the oddest of situations, it is hard to be taken seriously by people in general. But, being a flaky bird with grandiose pretensions to being a ' Brainy one', can generally be a pain for one's family members. I've only recently realised that my parents are saints and the amount of patience it takes to deal with an annoying know it all.

A couple of years ago I saw this interesting movie about journeys and self discovery...One of the characters in the movie was a madman who used to run around the town square with a mirror urging the people to peer in and 'see' themselves. It is only now that I've realised that he really meant ' peering into the mirror and seeing our inner selves'; who and what we really are.

The past couple of months have acted the part of the madman with the mirror in my life and have brought out the hitherto hidden aspects of my self. I never realised the extent of my patience and strength. I have always thought that  I wanted momentum from life, and here I am dealing with stillness in a most surprising manner.

Perhaps, all of us have times in our lives when we peer into the looking glass and find a stranger who looks just like us staring back. Honestly, dear reader, it was quite startling when that happened to me. But now, I find myself getting used to looking at the new me. I know, that right now it is extremely difficult for the people around me to take me seriously, but I'm sure that there will be a time when someone will actually listen to me and hear the true meaning behind my words. Until then, I will bide my time and venture to discover my true face in the mirror; or perhaps I should just be the madwoman running about with the looking glass?    

HOME AND THE WORLD: When misogyny from within one's family, rather than the outside world forces to choke the life out of the gutsy feminist.

Dear Reader, it is not easy being a woman. It is even more difficult to be a young woman who is not a significant contributor to the financial standing in one's family...It is also excruciatingly painful to have brilliant liberal and supportive parents but a vile and misogynistic extended family.

My parents have always encouraged me to think for myself and be honest in my dealings with others, yet I ask you Dear Reader, is it really possible to be honest when social conventions force us to be nice to those who clearly hate us and make us miserable?

 In India, family and family values are considered paramount. In a culture that places huge importance in the collective that is the 'Great Indian Extended Family', it is hard to ignore family members who have the capacity to leach every single drop of joy from your body with derisive glances and cutting words. As a 'well brought up young woman' one is expected to show every modicum of civility to them as 'the parent's honour depends upon it'.

It is a frustrating conundrum Dear Reader, why is having a vagina in the 'Great Indian Bourgeois Family' an open invitation to disapproval, constant criticism about behaviour / cooking skills / lifestyle / body / opinions etc? I will probably be embarrassed when I read this post in future, but I have a confession...I know what it is like to feel as low as it is humanly possible. In a culture where a woman's opinions have no weightage or are considered insignificant, I feel doubly frustrated. As hosts, we are taught to be gracious, but being insulted by various family members constantly in front of one's parents as well as behind the scene is excruciating at so many different levels.

As a highly educated feminist, one can't help but chafe under the restrictions, good manners and certain unavoidable circumstances puts one under. Yet, there is another being that lives within this highly educated feminist; the daughter, who feels guilty at causing pain to the said brilliant, liberal and supportive parents who place a lot of store into good manners. By indulging in impulsive, reactionary and insulting put downs that the horrid relatives deserve, I  would only expose my parents to ridicule from their siblings/in laws and lead to further embarrassment. Thus, sadly, in this struggle, the highly educated feminist loses to the daughter.

However, it is important that I share my realisation with you my Dear Reader, cynical though it may seem.... The road to freedom, equality and respect it is still an extremely daunting and difficult one, when our own kin stand in the way, presenting us with debilitating psychological hurdles, that are perhaps tougher than breaking down the walls that society places in front of all of us dedicated to the feminist cause. 

Oh Calcutta......Soul city..... City of joy....how I love thee!

New Market

Dear Reader, Kolkata on the surface is a dirty, slightly dilapidated, overcrowded city, but it has SOUL...and what a luminous soul it is....One that has survived centuries of the Raj, Riots and the languid indolence of the 'Bhadralok'; the bourgeois snobs, who live their lives entirely disconnected with society......

The heat and humidity are nearly unbearable, to even one such as yours truly, so used to the dusty and torrid embrace of the Delhi summers.Yet Dear Reader, Kolkata still manages to capture you. I love this city. My love affair with this metropolis began at the age of six, when I first came here for a visit. I was one of those kids who would tag along with uncles and aunts and end up visiting places. On that occasion, I tagged along with my uncle, my mother's younger brother who was on his way to the city. Back then she was Calcutta and one of my most poignant childhood memories is crossing in front of the Victoria Memorial at 5 am. The first rays of the sun turned the marble monument into gold, a sight, not many have the privilege of seeing. I remember, my indulgent uncle made the cabbie stop for a while right in front of the gate and in hindsight probably ran up the cab fare to more than it should have been. That was the moment I fell in love with Calcutta.

The Victoria Memorial

Imagine the sight Dear Reader, a looming white marble monument suddenly appearing out of the January mist, and then catching fire and turning into molten gold as the rising sunlight caressed it's white and pristine beauty. For my six year old self  it was an enchanted fairy castle which had appeared out of the mist by magic. I remember how my uncle entertained me and the cabbie with tall tales of fairy princesses, kings, queens, wizards and chariots of fire that he swore revealed the castle's true golden hue as they circled it... It is one of my most treasured memories; we returned that evening and we went around the monument in a horse drawn phaeton. You can well imagine Dear Reader, how special that day was, I truly felt like a princess.

Alas, I am not six anymore, and Calcutta is now Kolkata,  however, I have still managed to retain my impression of the city...A city of princes and paupers...a city of dreams mired in bleak reality. It is mystifying how Calcutta has managed to retain it's unique verve through the ages.

Park Street

One of my favourite places in the city, Park Street stands sentinel to nearly 300 years of history and Calcutta's existence. It is like a faded, unwashed cousin of the gorgeous Regent Street in London, littered with charming book shops and patisseries choc-a-block with government and corporate offices; and yet, beneath all the grime and surprising vines and creepers, you can spy the marble cherubs, the muses and the griffins. The beautiful detail work on the columns and the topmost façades of the buildings, reveal the regal beauty of the architecture of  a bygone era.    

The Standard Life Assurance Building

This Dear Reader, is Calcutta's soul, resilient and charming, like that beautiful and graceful old lady whose features make it apparent of her youthful beauty that refused to fade beneath the wrinkles brought on by age. She is gracious and gentle, commanding respect and full of stories and tales of the past, yet still, her relevance and presence provides a balm to the chaotic 21st century nomad.

The General Post Office Building

in which I look into the mirror only to find a stranger look back...

Dear Reader, have you ever watched a show on the telly that everyone is just raving about and found that you absolutely hate it? Well, I have recently been exposed to a show that made me actually ask myself some really awkward questions... Is it that I've changed so much fundamentally that I find certain things (that I might have enjoyed even two years ago) vacuous and idiotic....or was I the one who was vacuous and idiotic?

As I approach another birthday, one that is going to take me from one part of my twenties into another; I find myself looking in the mirror at someone really different from the person who stared back at me during my college years. I  find the girl looking back at me slightly alarming....not the looks really, it is just the eyes, specifically the expression. It used to be animated and bright but now it is guarded and angry..

There have been times in my life when I've looked into the mirror to find a new me looking back. The last time this happened, was in my teens when I looked in expecting the child, to only find the innocence curiously blink back and vanish.

They say that our eyes are the mirrors to our soul. I don't know if that's true, however I do know that the mirror never lies. If one really looks at oneself....really looks, one can always find the truth within oneself. I found a peculiar emptiness and darkness that I have always associated with being an adult. I find myself scared and worried for the child that still lurks within. You see, I tenaciously held on to remnants of my  childhood, yet now I find it slipping away through my fingers. It's ephemeral presence seems to be gradually receding, replaced by this  heavy permanence of being all grown up.

Perhaps, it was meant to be, still, it makes me wonder at myriad faces of life and it's 'ever constant changefulness'. I hope this post with it's incredibly philosophical content doesn't bore you much dear reader...like most writers I wish daily, that every sentence that I write or speak is frightfully witty and intelligent; however if I do come across as idiotic and boring forgive me... I am after all only human and promise to try and write a more entertaining post next time.... 

In which I address my serious addiction to books

Dear Reader, there is something really special about reading an interesting book whilst listening to melodious music. It can transport you to another realm, a place full of possibilities.... a place where our imagination reigns supreme....

In my case reading is a way of life, and listening to good music only makes living worthwhile. I don't really need to hear the lyrics, sometimes the melody is enough to take me to that other place...the world of my dreams. A realm in which the memorable characters from my favourite books dwell.

I have a confession dear reader, after I read a good book, I have a hard time coping with reality. I get lost in the language, words which are so beloved to me make everything worthwhile. A good book together with a perfect melody can make me forget all my problems.


In that world, I am able to live a thousand lives, go through numerous adventures, have unique experiences and fulfill all the hidden yearnings that accompany any deeply introspective human being.

We live in a world where we have to wear different masks for the different people and circumstances, our true face always hidden; so much so that sometimes it becomes to recognise ourselves in the mirror...  I believe that books provide us with an outlet for our wandering minds. In my case every time I pick up a book, I get this incredible feeling...my breath quickens and I feel this sense of anticipation, quite like something one feels before a date with a hunky guy....

Now, I know that you think that I need to seriously get out more, however, can you actually tell me that you don't understand the power the written word holds over us....For some, it is getting lost in lyrical poetry, for others it is reading a robust prose that makes them lose track of time. Who needs the pursuit of the 'perfect mate' when one can just open Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice and have Mr Darcy leap out of the pages into one's imagination.... Slaying dragons and having an adventure like Bilbo Baggins is just curling up with Tolkien's ' The Hobbit ' with a warm cuppa and listening to the Kinks greatest hits....

 I could go on and on Dear Reader,  for me reading a good book is akin to stepping inside a complicated maze and then having the most enjoyable time finding my way out. I suppose, I should really own up to the fact that I have a serious addiction to books. So Yes, I admit it...if the accusation of being  a bookworm is one of my many faults, I suppose there could have been worse foibles. I end this post with this thought: remember the last book that engrossed you to a great degree.....Perhaps, you'll understand and encourage this most noble of addictions then eh?      

To the best of fathers...

Dear Reader, Fathers, they are the best and the worst….they say that the relationship between fathers and daughters are really special. If I said that my father is perhaps the most interesting man in my life, you’ll roll your eyes …but it’s true!

To say that our relationship is tumultuous, would be an understatement….but behind the bickering, the constant disagreements and the furious silences; lies a love that only a daughter can feel for her father. My father is not my best friend, he is not sweet or even gentle, he is in fact the strongest man I know.

By strength, I don’t mean that he is a physical colossus; it is his mental strength and the strength of his character that inspires me daily. We have had our differences through the years, indeed, there were times that I thought that the differences in our temperaments and way of dealing with things was insurmountable.

Yet there he was, supporting me through the worst times in my life. He gave me strength to take the toughest decisions in my life. I may not be the best daughter in the world but I know that I have a wonderful father, who perhaps drew a short straw when I was foisted on him...But, do you know dear reader, I am glad..I love him for his frowns and his smiles that he tries to hide, and for his morals and his unconditional support....I love you dad...you rock..I may not say this often but you really are the best of fathers. J

In which I realise how important it is to be there for good friends going through a dark phase.......

Dear Reader, the other day I realised that living in an extreme state of melancholia while still retaining a kick-ass sense of humour is actually possible....and also how self- centred, we are as a generation.

I met a very old and dear friend "M", a couple of days ago completely by chance and I barely recognised her. Let me tell you something about M, she was this really smart cool girl that everyone liked, she was never boring and her sense of humour was legendary!

She was also kind of hot so most of the guys really liked her, she was one of those rare girls who did not have issues with her body or image which made her extremely likeable. We loved her and always thought that she'd end up doing great things.

A couple of years ago M sort of vanished. We figured that she was finally doing what she always said she'd do, spend time backpacking through Europe or live in South America or Africa.... We spent a couple of minutes during get- togethers speculating her whereabouts, even in absence, M was interesting. So imagine my shock when I bumped into a  nearly unrecognisable M in the most unlikely of places.

She was so different, it was clear that she was going through a really bad time. I made her tag along with me as we began what turned out to be a long chat. I realised something about myself dear reader...something upsetting...I am a terrible friend. M has always been there for me, there were times when she travelled across the city just to see me. There were times over the past couple of years when she called but I was busy and didn't pick up.

I never realised how horribly self centred we become as adults. We all promised our friends that we would stay in touch but, did we mean it. There is always that one person in a group who is always there for the others, who always calls and takes calls, who is willing to spend countless hours listening to our crap, who is a wonderful friend. M was that, she has been there for all her friends, she is basically the best person I know.

She isn't perfect, she never was, at one point in our lives people would confuse us, as we have vague similarities. I always took that as a compliment. When I saw her, with her sad eyes and teary smiles, it was like looking into a distorted mirror, she could have been me and I could have been her...if I had spent the last three years without a job, without any friends in a state of limbo, I would probably not have retained any faith or kindness.

It is apparent that M is in a state of severe depression, her smiles had a certain hesitant quality that pained me. But she still was extremely kind and soft spoken, her rage and anguish at what she termed her 'failures' were turned inwards. During the course of our meeting, I found myself confiding my worries, I had reverted back to the old pattern, I felt so selfish dear reader... I should have been there. I should have called when she didn't. If the situation was reversed she would have been there.

We live in a cruel world, not many show kindness, and I can certainly say that we are highly self-involved..I thus feel that sometimes we should be there for others. It is really important for us to be there for the few real friends we have. Next time read between the lines, look past the bright smiles to the sad eyes, call if the other doesn't..maybe she got tired of always being the one to call....don't learn about her wish to die....just give her a reason to live....see past her black humour to the underlying melancholia.....

Thus dear reader, if you have a friend who needs you for once, be there for him/her....you could perhaps prevent something awful....or life could just be one full of that great regret....If dear reader, you are in a dark place, reach out...I am sure that there is someone out there who loves you and was just careless....and didn't really mean to lose touch.....Give your friends a chance to prove that they care.....

The pedestrian feminist

Dear Reader, I am not a great thinker, I am just opinionated. I believe that we are all entitled to our opinions, however 'pedestrian' they may be. Also in today's age of information we are perfectly entitled to air our opinions on various platforms of our choice.

Thus when I call myself a feminist, I do not take it lightly, I do so not because it is in vogue. It is something I believe in and I expect to be taken seriously as one. The past week taught me something about principles, hypocrisy and betrayal.

When I called myself pedestrian, I was not being sarcastic, in fact I was congratulating myself on not being the 'model feminist'. My explanation to the above phrase is simple, I refuse to conform....one of the major issues I have with certain women who call themselves feminists is that they practice a form of intellectual snobbery that is chauvinist in it's own way....

I am obliquely referring to some 'sisters' who are of a certain age and have been part of the movement for as they put it ....A LONG TIME........there seems to be this silence from young feminists...the fact is that many journals say that they don't really have a voice...the truth is that most of us do have voices, some of us however shy away from coming across as not dedicated enough! Or in some cases (like mine) are not given the opportunity to express our views.

I would thus like to state it clearly on this blog, that I am not ashamed of my views being called pedestrian, by some....if being a 'pedestrian', and 'commonplace' means that I am inclusive and respect the opinions of others even if I disagree with them; then I am proud to be a 'Pedestrian Feminist'. 

As the rain and gale force winds raged around us, the Idol of the Goddess Durga, stood defiant, her serene expression a curious contrast to the tumultuous storm raging outside...... 

Dear Reader, for the people living in the eastern part of India, October is a very special month. The nine day autumn festival is celebrated here with all the accompanying pomp. It is said that the Goddess Durga comes down from the heavens on the 6th day to mingle with us mortals and returns on the 10th. Her departure is marked by the burning of effigies of the feared demon whom she vanquished. This day marks the triumph of good over evil.

The above description is the philosophical explanation for the days we spend just having a roaring good time in the company of friends and family. This year however, we saw something that most of us have never witnessed and hope to never witness again. The eastern coast of India was hit by the Cyclone Phailin, which made landfall smack in the middle of the festival. Needless to say it was not something we had ever experienced.

The past year has been quite rough for Indians, our society has witnessed various political, economic and more importantly, social upheavals. To a philosophical mind the current scenario can be likened to the storm that raged during the Durga Pujas and our moral compass, the idol of the goddess that stood defiantly against the cyclonic winds. To a believer, it was as if the goddess was indeed battling the evil around us....

Something, that the shrunken old priest said to me when I expressed my doubts about the safety of the idol during the storm stuck to me as deeply poignant...he said " This cyclone is just the evil in our society, this year has been full of bad things, more than other years, the goddess is not just an idol...she is the goodness in all of us..she is our conscience, which prevents us from giving in to the evil taking root in our hearts...This cyclone will pass with nary a scratch on us..the clay idol will not fall against these strong winds....because of the irrefutable fact that good always vanquishes evil...."Now dear reader, I am not really religious, but these words have managed to stay with me.

It's still drizzling and the festival has come to an end. The streets are now filled with the sound drum beats as  it is safe for the people to come out to bid farewell, and immerse the Goddess in the river. The idol may be gone but we retain the joy of the days spent rejoicing and celebrating family and community and we are also left with the hope that we, as a society will survive all these storms..because there is still something left to fight for.  

Rapist, Sexual Offender, Pervert, Peeping- Tom, Misogynist Ass etc etc , You have the right to remain silent...SO SHUT UP!

"New Delhi: A group of stand-up comedians known as 'AIB' has come up with a satirical video in the wake of recent sexual assault cases in India. The group consists of Tanmay Bhat, Gursimran Khamba, Rohan Joshi and Ashish Shakya. Bollywood actress Kalki Koechlin and VJ Juhi Pandey have acted in the video. The campaign is called 'It's Your Fault', and it showcases different dimensions of a victim's life."  courtesy IBN7 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=8hC0Ng_ajpY

Dear Reader, take a look at the video above, what do you think? Also try reading some of the comments below on the page, do you find them offensive? 

This video- campaign recently went viral in social media, it features a prominent actress and a popular VJ and is a satire on the current climate regarding Rape and other sexual offences in India. It is a reactionary piece, done in a clever way to show that as certain public figures in India opine, violence against women being "fault of the victim" is utter rubbish!

If you are not familiar with the social milieu of the Subcontinent, let me explain, there are those, generally ignorant public figures, oily, self serving politicians, self- styled godmen/ community leaders and other blithering idiots who believe that the victim of violence/ rape/ acid- attacks and other brutality must have done something to suffer such a fate.

After every incident (especially high profile ones like the Dec-16 Delhi Gang Rape Case) they rush to release statements about how they deplore the incident, Yet how, somehow, the victim- that poor unfortunate girl, could have escaped such a fate, if she had only followed the 'RULES'...Oh how they wish the poor....... unfortunate....girl....should have done this....or done that... Basically shifting the blame to the Victim! 

Oh yes! the fault was her's you see, she was out late at night, or she was with a man, or why was she not with a man?...unprotected, or she was wearing obscene clothes, makeup etc etc...so basically she was asking for it...What could the rapist do, but oblige? 

Some examples of this are especially bizarre, Asaram- a self styled godman, and himself a multiple times sexual offender and child molester, 'genuinely prayed for the Dec 16 victim' yet opined that 'when they came to rape her (instead of defending herself) she should have called them BHAIIYA ( hindi word for brother) and they would have backed off, after all why would a brother brutally rape and then shove a rod up your vagina?'

Yes my dear reader! your eyes do not deceive you, want another example? Well prepare to be amazed, Khap Panchayats illegal community collective courts (they are not sanctioned by law) say that rapes happen because the ' young people eat foreign food like chowmein! Or talk on cellphones, or wear jeans, or are educated!' In fact they are of the opinion that girls should be married at a young age before 'they get corrupted by all these UN-INDIAN trappings, then they will be leashed by their husbands whose work is to keep their women-folk under control and if they abuse, rape, torture etc, they have the right because women are their property!'

Shocking isn't it? But oh I am coming to the really good one...brace yourself... Ahem... Every time an incident is reported some of us, the principled bastion of morality- The Common Man- believe, that surely the perpetrators are not one of us...that they are, migrants, uneducated, of a different religion, caste/class, state etc etc....   

The above falderal is only a fraction of the insanity that one is subjected to after every incident, the sheer callousness of public figures has left many disgusted at the behaviour of these ' honourable men' . Vote hungry politicians rush in to placate their constituencies, publicity hungry bollywood actors (indeed, some especially removed from reality), delusional community leaders, dogmatic godmen all try to vociferously make their unwanted, ignorant and idiotic opinions heard in various news channels, who in turn milk a heinous incident for all it's worth. The resulting cacophony is so unbearable for some that they switch off their TV's to avoid being disgusted, throwing up and in my case smash the screen into pieces (as if that would stop them)!  

If this isn't enough then there are the so called 'crusaders for justice'. In a previous post- the Rape of Innocence, I had expressed my anger at  " various activists and women's groups (some of whom are publicity hungering opportunists) " . There are also the well meaning, yet misguided media campaigns that end up doing more harm than good. Some of which like the MARD ( Men Against Rape & Discrimination) just miss the point entirely. They mean to say that a real MARD (macho- man in Hindi), has a duty protect women.This noble yet misguided campaign, supported by many celebrities, perpetrated patriarchy in it's own way. Many celebrities (especially male) from bollywood, TV, sports etc spoke out in support, but somehow it smacked more of self publicity and the magnanimous support of influential men to the women's movement, than a genuine attempt to redress social evils.

  

And then there were some women's group themselves, that perpetrated norms of patriarchy and unknowingly, kowtowed to regressive social dogma by campaigns like ' ABUSED GODDESSES' a campaign that went viral. While the images of abused Hindu goddesses, worshipped for strength, wisdom and prosperity were shocking, appalling and disturbing; in their own way, it unwittingly encouraged the goddess vs slut myth. 

Or this one below, the image of a woman with a anguished eyes one of which is bruised visible behind a burqa. 

 

Many practical and sensible advocates and supporters of these campaigns say, that they are meant for the consumption of the masses, who don't understand or have no interest in the sexual politics and debate about the regressive standards and stagnation of the society. I think, that they do have a valid point, however I must  in turn, point out that social change can only be brought about if the the regressiveness of  patriarchy is addressed, and efforts are made to abolish it. 

There should be a debate about healthy masculinity, basically try and teach our male children to respect women and encourage them to be themselves- free of any pressure to conform to an image, especially what boys and girls should or shouldn't do. 

Efforts must also be made to address the mentality, that blames the victim of violence and abuse for her plight. This is a serious one my dear reader. Women are not images or types, who are we as a society to decide whether a woman should be venerated like a goddess or reviled like a slut? Women who dress and behave in a demure manner are equally at risk, as are the women who do not conform. If a woman is a rule- breaker or a free thinker, she is not 'asking for it'. I would like to see this Rule Book  and who made these so called Rules anyway?

When a woman is raped, molested, attacked or is subjected to brutality,let us not raise questions about her dress, or why she was out late or why was she in the company of other men or even her girl-friends? By going into such tangents, we are guilty of making excuses for her tormentors. IT IS NOT HER FAULT! SHE DID NOT DO ANYTHING! SHE DID NOT ASK FOR IT!  

http://www.buzzfeed.com/regajha/27-survivors-of-sexual-assault-quoting-the-people-who-attack

I end this post with a request, please click on the above link. It is about an initiative called "Project Unbreakable". These incredibly brave women should be the ones to be venerated, they are not helpless victims but survivors. They have taken control and they deserve respect, for what they've done. I am a firm believer in the basic human right of free speech and expression. However,those individuals who defy humanity, by subjecting another human being to any form of abuse (verbal, physical/mental), do not have the right to spread their venom amongst society through this free speech.Such creatures, such misogynistic animals should hold their tongues, they have no right to make excuses for their brutality. They gave up their rights, when they deliberately hurt an innocent. And lastly to all those blithering idiots who think they know right from wrong-Shut up!   

"Project Unbreakable is an online photography project that aims to “encourage the act of healing through art.” Trigger warning for sexual assault." Courtesy Buzzfeed