Sexual Harassment in the Classroom

First published on Feminism in India.

When I was in 8^th grade, there was a new ‘joke’ spreading in my school. “Sone ka bhaav kya hai?” (What is the value of “sone”?) the boys would ask us girls, sniggering. The joke hinged on a crass pun, you see. Most of the girls would assume that ‘sona’ meant gold, and would respond accordingly. But ‘sona’ also meant sleeping. So what the guys were actually asking the girls was “What’s the price of sleeping with you?” or “What’s your rate?”

Classrooms are rarely free of ‘non-veg’ jokes and sexual innuendos. Cast your minds back to the good old school days, and your memories will be peppered with ridiculous songs (A and B sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G), words turned into cringe-worthy acronyms (IDIOT = ‘I Do Ishq Only Tumse’, a Hinglish version of ‘I love only you’), inappropriate and often offensive language (‘randi’ meaning prostitute and ‘gay’ among others) and uncomfortable physical contact.

WHILE MANY DISMISS THESE INSTANCES AS JUST PUBERTY, I CALL THEM THE BEGINNING OF NORMALIZED SEXUAL HARASSMENT.

There is a shared understanding of why this happens. That children are sitting ducks hit by the sudden wave of hormonal imbalance and biological change. They want to talk about sex, but no one else wants to talk about it. So the topic of sex becomes taboo, finding an outlet through humour and inappropriate touching. But while many dismiss these instances as a symptom of puberty, I call them the beginning of normalized sexual harassment.

Let me give you an example. When I was in 10^th grade, a boy in my class decided he liked me. Let us call him X. X would stare at me all day in class, making me self-conscious. But that discomfort was nothing compared to the disgust I felt when he tried to touch me. You would say there was nothing inappropriate about him touching my arm (which is all he did), but it was a bad touch, the kind that would bring a huge smile on his face, after which he would turn around and look at his friends, who nodded encouragingly. His hands would linger, and I would flinch, and pull away from him. But he would keep finding ways to touch me; during conversations, and while walking past me in the classroom, or in a crowded corridor.

AT NO POINT DID IT OCCUR TO ME THAT I COULD JUST SAY ‘NO’.

I wanted it to stop, but I did not dare to go tell the teachers or my parents, afraid that they would think I was a ‘bad girl’ who consorted with boys. Deeply troubled, I confided in my friends, who promptly began teasing me with him. “He’s doing that because he likes you!” they said. I was filled with disgust and shame. I was finding it difficult to focus on my studies, and I blamed myself for not being able to ignore the whole thing.

But at no point during this entire ordeal did it ever occur to me that I could just tell him to stop. That I could just say ‘No’. I finally got X to stop, by seeking help from his bulkier friend, Y. Y then proceeded to follow me around for a year, believing that I had ‘chosen’ him over X.

Looking back, this incident and my inability to handle it well seems ridiculous, trivial even. But it was all-consuming for a harrowed student preparing for her board exams. And if you think that these incidents are just harmless distractions, think again.

In 9th grade, a boy in my class had started molesting girls who had the misfortune of sitting on the bench in front of him, by groping their butt. No one said a word, except for one girl. Let us call her S. She got up from her seat in the middle of a lecture, and gave the boy a resounding slap. The teacher paused, called S to the table, spoke to her briefly, then did nothing. The next time S slapped him during a lecture, the teacher ignored the incident and continued teaching. In the course of that year, S slapped the boy five to six times. Of course responding to harassment with violence does not always end well. But back then S was my personal hero. Because she could do what I couldn’t. She could say ‘No’.

We don’t think of such instances when we talk about sexual harassment. It has been relegated to the domain of the public; the deserted streets, the high-spirited bars, the crowded trains. But we forget that sexual harassment and molestation can also take place indoors; within the boundaries of our own homes, and in classrooms.

India and Child Sexual Abuse

Unfortunately, India’s legal system is far from equipped to deal with the complexities of sexual harassment. Until five years ago there was no legislation to curb or even acknowledge the sexual abuse faced by minors in the country.

But a study conducted by Ministry of Women and Child Development in 2007 across 13 states showed that 53 percent of Indians between the ages of 5 and 18 reported facing some form of sexual abuse, out of which 53 percent of the cases were reported by males and 47 percent by females. The Protection of Children from Sexual Offences (POCSO) law was finally passed in 2012, criminalizing child rape, harassment and exploitation for pornography. Now it is slowly garnering attention, with mainstream movies like ‘Kahaani 2‘ bringing the issue to the forefront.

UNTIL 5 YEARS AGO THERE WAS NO LEGISLATION TO CURB OR EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE.

But the discourse is still limited to minors being harassed by adults in positions of power and influence (such as relatives, family friends and teachers). A study in the schools of Goa in 2003 showed that 33 percent of students studying in 11^th grade said that they had been verbally abused by fellow-students in the past 12 months, while 18% reported physical abuse.

This kind of abuse has been normalized and often glorified in popular Bollywood movies, from the recent ‘street-harassment’ songs to the earlier ‘college-harassment’ ones. Songs like ‘Khud ko kya samajhti hai’ and ‘khambe jaisi khadi hai’ have normalized harassment of girls in colleges for being too rich, too smart or too fashionable.

The conversation around similar harassment in schools is negligible. There is a growing awareness about this in the US, where a survey showed that 48 percent of students faced some form of sexual harassment in the 2010-11 school year. But while US has acknowledged the importance of curbing abuse at a young age, India is still several steps behind.

Understanding Consent

The obvious step that India can take is to establish committees in educational institutions to address such grievances, like the ones made mandatory for work spaces. But this only serves as a band-aid to the problem, and a very poor one at that.

The first step towards addressing these issues is to acknowledge that these instances of sexual harassment do not appear out of the blue. They are symptoms of a much deeper problem – a lack of understanding of personal space and consent.

When our peers crack dirty sexual jokes in front of us because they think we are cool and one of them, we do not want to dispel this notion by expressing our discomfort. When someone stands a little too close for comfort while talking to us, we force ourselves to get used to it, because that is how they talk to everyone. These are minor negotiations that we start making in school, and continue making in our lifetime. We choose likability over comfort, because that is what we are taught to value.

This reflects back in our schools, where teachers themselves often fail to understand consent. In 7th grade, a boy sitting behind me in class would touch me at inappropriate places between the waist and shoulder (think sideboob). He did not understand why it was inappropriate for him to touch me there, when the boys did not mind it at all. In fact my annoyance seemed to encourage him further.

Fed up of his tactics, I walked up to the teacher one day and complained about him. But the teacher addressed the situation not by shouting at him or explaining what he was doing wrong, but by simply asking him to sit somewhere else. I went back to my seat feeling extremely dissatisfied. I knew this wouldn’t change anything. He would just torment another girl who might be too frightened to report him.

IN A CULTURE WHERE ALL SEXUAL CONTACT IS BAD SEXUAL CONTACT, TEACHERS DO NOT WANT TO BE THE ONES EXPLAINING SEX TO CHILDREN.

This is a pattern we see all through school, where issues of body and personal space are left unaddressed, and often ignored. This discourages students from sharing their concerns with the teachers, who themselves are unsure of how to deal with such incidents. In a culture where all sexual contact is bad sexual contact, they do not want to be the ones explaining sex to children.

The change we need will happen slowly, with seminars and workshops for teachers to sensitize them to the concepts of the body and consent. Maybe we can develop a set of guidelines that teachers could follow when such incidents occur, to ensure they are handled in a firm and sensitive manner.

Maybe we could have videos for students on consent and what is considered appropriate or inappropriate in the classroom, like the period video they show adolescent girls in school, but less annoying. A few non-profits are already working in this direction, by providing gender sensitization workshops for teachers. But looking at the state of educational institutions in our country, and their sheer number, we have a long way to go.

Towards a Better Future

Sexual harassment is only a small part of the abuse that can be faced by minors in schools today. I cannot even begin to enter the domain of the sexist, homophobic, racist and casteist jokes and slurs thrown around often. And with the rise of social media, the abuse becomes more creative and violent by the day. The continued acceptance of such humor shapes the way we look at others and ourselves. It creates divisions of us and them, and generates an atmosphere of intolerance.

If schools are our first step into modern society, then adolescence is the perfect time to cultivate ideas of inclusivity and acceptance. To build a more nuanced understanding of gender, sexuality and the body, and to weed out sexual violence from our vocabulary. If we are able to make our classrooms harassment-free, the deserted roads, the crowded trains and the entire internet would become much safer for us all.

Sita Sings the Blues: A Modern Ramayana

Adaptations mean different things to different people. Some like them, some don’t. Some do not care enough to have strong opinions about them. Personally, I dislike adaptations; especially book to film adaptations. They are either boring  and lack creativity, or they are too concise and unfaithful to the original. But what irks me the most is that the movie is never as good as the book.

Since I’m interested in mythology and folklore, the Ramayana and Mahabharata hold a special place in my heart. So when I was told to watch Sita Sings the Blues for my Film and Literature course, I grudgingly obliged. I was surprised to see that the film was not what I expected. It was so much more.

The film had me hooked from the start, with its artful animation, satirical elements and the beautiful blues songs. I loved Nina Paley’s understanding of Ramayana as a breakup story, drawing parallels between it and her own life. I loved her interpretation of the Hindu gods, especially the sassy dancing Shiva.

My favourite thing about this film, though, are the three shadow puppets. A fusion between narrators and spectators, they take the story forward while raising questions that we, as readers or viewers of Ramayana in the 21^st century would ask.

Masked with satire and humour, their profound questions stayed with me long after the film was over.

Why did Sita not go back with Hanuman? Why did Ram send Sita away? Was Ravan really as bad as he is believed to be?

The three puppets have different opinions regarding these questions, and discuss them just like I would discuss this with my friends.

As if this wasn’t enough, the movie is from Sita’s perspective, and is a feminist adaptation, which gives it more points in my book. Although the representation is taken too far at times, dramatizing certain actions to emphasize Ram’s cruelty. The songs are beautifully heartbreaking, and the entire film is simply a treat to the eyes, ears and mind.

The film ends with Lakshmi or Sri relaxing on the Shesh Naga while Vishnu massages her feet, while in the beginning of the film, we see the exact opposite. This scene could mean different things. As a feminist adaptation, it  could signify the hope of women empowerment. Or it might signify that the story does not end here and they meet again and are united at last.

I would like to believe in the first interpretation. But no matter what you believe, the movie is definitely worth watching.

P.S. You can watch the movie online or download it here.

Why India needs Feminism

A few days ago, I was talking to a friend, and the conversation somehow turned to sexual harassment. (Yes, that does happen!) I asked him if he’d ever been sexually harassed. “Not as far as I remember” he answered.

I began narrating my first encounter with sexual harassment, as one of those incidents in your past that you look back and chuckle at. Before I knew it, instance after instance flooded my mind, and I began recounting every single time I had been sexually harassed: in school (multiple times!), in buses, rickshaws, crowded places, you name it. And this was without even considering the times I had been leered or whistled at!

As single incidents, they had seemed inconsequential, trivial even. Why get riled up about something that was now a part of daily life? But grouped together, they implied one simple thing that has been overlooked for too long. There’s something terribly wrong with our society.

I had always heard the stories, the statistics. Joked with my friends about how getting harassed in public places was a part of daily life. How it happened at least once to every girl. And since this was not going to change, how we had to learn to protect ourselves.

I still remember ‘holding the bag’ technique, which my mum had taught me that when I was barely 12, as men kept ‘accidentally’ touching my chest as I followed her around the crowded market. You basically maintain a guarded stance with your hand crossed in front of your chest and your elbow jutting out, under the pretense of clutching your bag. And whenever a man brushes too close by, you hit him with your elbow or fist, just enough to keep him at a distance.

I thought nothing of it at the time. Until last year, a friend from Chennai came to stay at my place for a few days, and I had to teach her the technique. “Warrior pose” she called it, laughing at my serious face as I insisted she maintain that pose whenever we were in a crowded place.

But “warrior pose” was an apt term for whatever that was. Because although we don’t realize it, we are at war. We’re at war if every time we enter a public space, we are scared, or worse, oblivious to the ‘male gaze’. We’re at war if sexual harassment is so common, we don’t even recognize it as harassment anymore.

And that’s why India needs Feminism. Because no person; man, woman or other, should feel uncomfortable or unsafe in a space that’s fundamentally meant for everyone.

Episode II: The Fall of Panda

“No one ever messes with me.” Panda used to say. “No one dares.”

Panda was one of those children who never really got bullied. A kid did try to bully him once. And for a few days, Panda let him. But when the kid threatened to physically beat him up, Panda held on to his man-parts and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed like his life depended on it, reducing the bully to a small body on the floor, shrieking in pain.

Clearly Panda had, and still has, the potential of being a bully. But he holds his head in pride, saying that he has never bullied anyone and he never will. Little does he realize, he already is a bully.

Not the kind that beats people up or takes their food or money. But the kind that throws other people in the campus lake, knowing that no one will ever dare to throw him in. The kind that threatens to pour muddy water over my head on my birthday. The kind that can only attack but never be attacked, because he’s too strong. After all, his favourite super-hero is Hulk.

Now I’m not saying he uses his super-strength for evil, but his imperviousness has always irked me. So imagine my surprise (and happiness) when I saw the fall of Panda with my own eyes.

It was holi, the Indian festival of colours, and celebrations were in full swing. People were playing with colours and water, and eventually began throwing each other into the mud. Panda stood there threatened to throw me and Doll into the mud, chest all puffed up because no one would throw him in.Then it happened.

In a flash, three of our fellow-students caught hold of him and began struggling. They weren’t trying to throw Panda into the mud, they simply wanted to rip his t-shirt. And boy, did they succeed! After 10 mins of struggle, I saw Panda standing with GG. Both of them looked ruffled with their torn t-shirts held in place by tying knots.

I felt immensely satisfied. Panda looked humbled and quiet, and a little sad. I couldn’t help but smile. The universe was alright. Balance had been restored.

Episode 1: An old soul

‘If your husband or his family are pure vegetarians, will you give up non-veg for them?’, he asked.

We were walking on the ring road at night, just the four of us. Talking about anything and everything. Me, Panda, Doll and GG. (Yes these are real people and not figments of my imagination. I’m gonna call them by their nicknames.)

Now Panda is a foodie who loves Hulk and looks like Po from Kung fu Panda. (I know you’re reading this. You’re welcome) He also likes to profile people and read my blog posts and analyze my thought process. Doll is a fair girly girl who is passionate about food, music, puzzles, movies; basically everything. GG is a new addition to our group. He’s the funny guy, who can mimic people perfectly. Of course sometimes he can get really annoying. Like when he asked this question.

If GG had his way, the entire world would be vegetarian, or at least his friends. Unfortunately he has friends like me and Panda, who love chicken way too much. Anyways, GG asked me whether I would turn vegetarian if my husband or in-laws disapproved. He was met with an awkward silence, as I tried to find a way to explain my convictions to him.

But Doll did it for me. “She doesn’t wanna get married” she said abruptly. Maybe the silence had disturbed her.

“What?!” GG exclaimed. “Are you one of those lesbians?!” he whispered dramatically.

I looked away, resisting the urge to retort back. Panda smirked and Doll, who never holds back, burst into laughter.

“She doesn’t wanna get married.” Doll repeated. “She wants to be in a live-in relationship. And she wants to adopt.”

“Wow! Where do you get such amazing thoughts from?” GG asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“It’s alright, calm down” I said, patting his arm soothingly.

Panda changed the topic, and within a minute GG was back to his usual self; childish and hilarious.

As the others walked on ahead, amidst Doll’s peals of laughter, I couldn’t help being amused by GG’s reaction. He so perfectly represented the Indian crowd. So easily scandalized, wired against change, yet so innocent and forgetful. There was something childlike about him, a quality I had also seen in my parents; a strong conviction in themselves and their beliefs. And the ability to see the world in black and white. Something I don’t have.

I am, after all, an old soul.

AIB Roast: National Shame?

Recently, a group of comedians in India decided to try something new to break the monotony of Indian comedy. So they decided to organize a roast, similar to the ones aired by Comedy Central.

What is a roast? It is an anti-toast, where you invite guests and make them the subject of all your jokes. It is supposed to be in good spirit since the guests are able to laugh at themselves, along with the audience of course!

This is exactly what AIB tried to do. Now I love them, and their YouTube videos are hilarious, but I didn’t find the roast to be the most hilarious thing. Though it was funny and entertaining enough, the roast was a failure. Not because it wasn’t popular enough or funny enough. But because it happened in India.

Some Indians found this roast to be extremely obscene and against ‘Indian values’, so much so that they started calling it a national shame. They attacked the celebrities who had been at the receiving end of all the jokes, and had sportingly laughed at themselves. They labelled as hypocrites the actresses who had earlier fought against their own sexualization or objectification for laughing along. A complaint was filed against AIB with the police, and finally AIB took the video off YouTube.

So this post goes out to all the Indians that felt elated or victorious when the video was taken down. Bravo. Of all the problems Indians face, such as poverty, unemployment, pollution, corruption, sexual harassment and rape, you identified and curbed the biggest of them all: Comedy.

And what a huge problem it is! These people actually learned to laugh when others called them black, fat, gay or a sexual predator! If that isn’t against Indian values, then what is? And the amount of abuses that were thrown around during the roast! It’s not like we let shows such as Roadies air on TV, that we can let a roast video be on YouTube. How dare Karan Johar blatantly act gay (stressing on the word act) on stage? How can Sonakshi Sinha and Alia Bhatt laugh on being called fat and dumb? Deepika Padukone created such a big scene when Times of India printed a zoomed in picture of her cleavage. Look at her laugh at a joke related to that incident now. What a hypocrite!

The real hypocrite is you. You, who quietly watch as news of religious intolerance and sexual harassment floods the newspapers. You, who silently blame the victim. You, who will not stop once to take someone who has been in an accident to the hospital, who will look on impassively at the injustice happening all around you, but will raise your voice to take down a roast video from YouTube for being offensive.

The real culprit, the person going against Indian values, is you.

Diwali

As a kid, Diwali meant a lot to me. Getting up early and applying oil in what can only be described as the “Indian festival-beautification treatment”. Wearing pretty clothes and running about the house in excitement for reasons I no longer remember. Diwali was an occasion for new clothes, delicious food and lots of shopping. And how can we forget the crackers? Loud, colourful and sparkly. Me and my friends would gather together to burst crackers. There was fun and laughter, light and colour. A mood of celebration and festivities.

Now, Diwali is nostalgic memories of a happy childhood. Ridden with the burden of noise and air pollution, and child labour. Darkened with the memory of a loved one’s death. Rendered meaningless by an atheist mind, which dismisses a festival that the heart so dearly cherishes.

Diwali is a reminder of an innocent past. One without death and responsibility. One without cynicism. One close to happiness, but far away from reality.

Moments

I was walking on the road when it happened.

It was Ganesh Chathurti. I was in Pune city, having made plans to meet a couple of friends for lunch. I was making my way through the crowded street, when I noticed a rangoli drawn right in the middle of the road. I was amused at the inconvenience it was causing people who would have to walk around it. But no one dared to step on the rangoli itself. Even Pune motorists, who drive like they would not hesitate to plough through you, carefully swerved to avoid driving on it.

A few steps ahead was the culprit, drawing another rangoli. I stopped on my tracks, filled with a sudden desire to take a picture of him; a symbol of intense devotion and public disruption. I could hear the sounds of a Ganapati procession in the distance, with drums and trumpets and the sounds of people shouting and singing.

I shrugged and started walking ahead. A few minutes later I reached the procession, which was slowly inching forward. Men and women danced in the front while kids took pictures with the life-sized versions of Ganapati and Hanuman.

I stood there watching the procession and clicking pictures, chuckling as I watched the antics of children. How happy they all seemed! Brought together by this shared illusion of worship.

That’s when I realized it was starting to rain. There was a sudden change in my surroundings; the air I breathed was fresher, the wind was gentler and cooler, everything seemed brighter and somehow more beautiful that it had been moments ago.

I started walking again. But this time there was a spring in my step. Water was pouring all around me, and within seconds I was completely drenched. Yet I kept smiling, walking at a leisurely place.

People I passed by on the road stared at me as if I had lost my mind. With dripping wet clothes and hair plastered to my face, I was grinning from ear to ear like an idiot!

But I didn’t care. At that moment, I was happy. Happier than I had been for a long time. Happier than I would be for a few days, maybe years. I was happy because the world is a beautiful place. Because there is no order or rigidity, just impulse and surprises.

But mostly because I didn’t need a reason to be happy.

Breaking Stereotypes: India

One of my courses this term is called ‘Images of India’, where we look at how India has been perceived by foreigners right since the ancient times. And as we read up on hilarious accounts of India published by travelers and scholars (And I mean HILARIOUS; dog-mouthed people, people with inverted feet, pygmies fighting cranes, gold-digging ants… I could go on and on), I wondered how did foreigners view India today.

To my surprise, I found out that the perception remains similar. India is still a mystical and fantastical land; of spirituality and yoga, of molestation and poverty, of snake charmers and elephants. I’m not saying these things don’t exist in India. They most certainly do. But there’s also an ordinary side to India, that people are unaware of.

A quick discussion with my friends revealed a bunch of outrageously insensitive albeit hysterical questions or statements made by foreigners. So I’ve taken it upon myself to bust some myths about India that, unfortunately, exist.

• Indian students go to school on elephants

Yes, we do have schools. And we go to school by bus, train or car. If it’s close enough, we walk. On concrete roads. And I know elephants are so cool and ‘exotic’, but they don’t ramble around in the cities hoping to drop someone to school. I live in India, and I have seen only one elephant in my entire life!

• We dance on the streets whenever we feel like it. And everyone knows the steps!

What you see here is a dance style shown in Bollywood films. Music and dance is a very important part of our films. But we don’t actually break into song and dance in real life. Bollywood dance is quite different from what you see on Outsourced, The Big Bang Theory or any other American TV show.

• We don’t know the English language

Well the fact that I’m writing this post in English makes the point redundant. But a lot of people are surprised at our command of the English language. What they don’t know is that English is the official language in our country and the first language we learn in school. Not all of us are fluent English speakers though.

• All Indians are vegetarians

Believe it or not, a lot of Indians are non-vegetarians. Except for the few vegetarians, Indians eat sea food, chicken, beef, etc. So don’t worry if you’re planning a trip to India. You’ll get your meat.

• All Indian food is spicy

Some of it, I admit, is quite spicy. But there’s a lot of variety in the non-spicy section. For e.g. desserts can’t be spicy, can they?

There are many such notions and perceptions of the unknown that we have from hearsay or TV shows or stereotypes. Such statements, however innocent, can sometimes offend or misrepresent a person or community.

I read about an Indian matrimonial site going out of its way to break certain stereotypes people have in Delhi.

So I have decided to start my own version of ‘Breaking Stereotypes’, by devoting a section of my blog to dispelling myths and telling people more about different cultures. If you have something to share about your culture that you would want people to know, please comment, email or message me on social media sites.

Let’s make the world a more tolerant and understanding place.

All it takes is to keep an open mind.

The Woman on the Train

It was a day like any other.

I left my house at 11 am; all decked up and ready for college. Catching a rickshaw, I reached Ghatkopar railway station. My college R. A. Podar, in Matunga, was four stations away.

I walked towards the platform at a quickened pace, keeping my eyes focused on the ground in front of me. I ignored the men around me, as they stripped me naked with their eyes. ‘Be careful to not meet the eyes of the men passing by; they might take it as an invitation’ a woman’s voice rang in my head, as I weaved my way around a throng of men blatantly staring at my bosom.

I boarded the train, making sure I entered the II Class women’s compartment. As the train began to move, I positioned myself near the doorway and stared dreamily at the passing greenery and filth, lost in my own thoughts.

I was woken from my reverie with a loud and resounding B%#nch$d. Startled, I turned to look for the source of this expletive. Standing at the back of the compartment was a petite woman of 5’2 with short brown hair. She was wearing a plain T-shirt and jeans. I would’ve easily mistaken her for a guy.

This little creature was glaring at someone in the adjoining general compartment, which was separated from ours by a wall of closely spaced iron rods. lf. And through the tiny space between the rods, she started screaming at a man.

“Ladki ko chhedta hai? Tereme tameez nai hai kya? Ghoor kya raha hai? Abhi udhar aau kya?”

 (Harassing a woman, are you? Why are you staring here? Should I come there now?)

Suddenly everyone started fidgeting. The women in this compartment. The men in the other. Her anger was frightening. Apparently the man had been staring at and/or passing lewd comments about her/someone sitting next to her. As the train screeched to a halt at Kurla station, she jumped out of our compartment and into the next one. We craned our necks, waiting to see what would happen next. It was a full-on tamasha.

As she pushed her way through the throng of men in that crowded compartment, the guy she had been yelling at jumped out of the other door; right on the tracks. He then ran across them and climbed the platform on the other side. Just to get away from her.

At the next railway station, Sion, she clambered back into our compartment. There was a huge commotion; with a few women stepping forward to grasp her hand, to support and congratulate her. Everyone else proceeded to discuss this event right in front of her. Some complimenting her bravery, while a few middle-aged women felt sorry for the guy, who was just ‘being a man’.

I just stood there, looking at her. I had this overwhelming urge to walk up to her and applaud her courage. To talk to her. But I stood rooted in my spot. Looking at her in awe. Wondering if I could ever be confident enough. Imagining what a different place this would be if all women were confident enough.

Statue of Unity

You guessed correctly! This post is about the Statue of Unity, the 2 billion rupee-monument that’s causing clashes among the ever-ready-to-fight Indians.

Honestly, I had no idea that this was happening in Gujarat! I was innocently scrolling down my Facebook homepage when I happened to see this picture. And now I know. So let’s talk.

A Facebook post

How is this Statue of Unity even comparable to the Statue of Liberty or the Eiffel Tower?! Correct me if I’m wrong but these are just structures; monuments that may or may not signify something. They’re not enormous statues of this one, though sadly under-appreciated, freedom fighter! And people, even Indians, go to these places because they’re beautiful. Do you think non-Indians are gonna come to India and say, “Oh let’s go see that huge statue of some guy who helped India achieve independence!”

This is not a question of Indians vs. America or Europe. Or maybe it is. After all, it is supposed to be the tallest statue in the world! I’m sorry, are we really gonna sit back and be a part of this mine-is-bigger-than-yours foolishness?

Frankly, India has bigger problems. Poverty, unemployment, sexual harassment, corruption, inflation; you name it. Even the facilities we do have, like railway and airways are substandard at best. Plus, India is in debt isn’t it? Why are we wasting 2 BILLION rupees on this project? And who is it helping?

Not the people living in nearby villages whose lands have been taken away for this project. Not the environmentalists who’re screaming themselves hoarse. I am certainly not gaining from this.

The politicians and builders stand to gain though. So who are we to stop them from milking the nation dry?! We all know what’s gonna happen. This monument will take years to build, after which it’ll start cracking or even collapsing due to use of substandard materials. More money will be pumped into the project in the name of repairs. And it won’t stand a chance against the Statues of Liberty and the Eiffel Towers of the world.

And the world will go on. Oops! I almost forgot our dear Indian brothers and sisters, who’ll visit the monument and scratch out their names with little hearts, trying to immortalize their love.

To those who ask “Why are you against this symbol of India’s greatness? Are you ashamed of being Indian?”, the day you put in this much effort into tackling real issues like poverty and sexual harassment, I would be proud to be Indian.

How It All Began

One of the biggest questions faced by mankind is how was the world created. We all know about the theory of evolution. Hell, we all studied it in school!

Christianity has its own theory; the story of Adam and Eve.

I never wondered if Hinduism had its own theory; I never even thought about it! Till that fateful day when I had to take Iconography because all the seats in Introduction to Philosophy were taken. And I never looked back.

The Hindu creation myth, just like everything Hindu, is a wee bit complicated.

In the beginning of time, the world was in a state of Shunya (zero or nothingness). There were just primordial waters. Out of this water emerged a supreme being: Brahma. (Not the Brahma that we know as the Creator). This Brahma sowed his seed into the water (if you know what I mean), which formed an egg.

In an alternate version, Vishnu lay on the primordial waters and had a thought about creation. Suddenly a lotus sprung out from his naval, and from that lotus emerged Brahma.

After thousands of years, this egg hatched. And out of this egg came Brahma, the creator. The pieces of the eggshell formed the universe. That’s why it’s called Brahmaanda (Brahma + Anda).

Brahma then proceeded to create everything else. He created Prajapatis to create the human race. The first man was called Manu. That’s why his race is called Manushya.

Cool right? Vague and weird, but damn cool!

Knowing Hinduism, I’m sure there’ll be several more creation myths. If you know any, comment below and let me know!

Ciao.

Of Religion and Death

Almost 2 years ago, my grandmother died. Some sort of cancer.

My mum had a hard time dealing with it. She would keep asking herself, and me, these questions.

Why did this happen to us? Why us?

Where do you think she is right now?

And though engulfed in grief myself, I knew the answers. It just happened. To her. To us. In a world of chances and probabilities this was bound to happen to somebody. It just happened to us. As for the second question, she’s nowhere. One second she was here. Alive. The next second, she ceased to exist. Dead.

But my mum, she couldn’t swallow these answers, and not knowing how to explain them to her, I remained silent.

But these questions kept eating at her, and soon transformed into questions I possibly could not answer.

Why did God do this to us? Did we do something wrong? Did we commit a sin? and

I know aai (That’s what she called her. Means mother in Marathi) is watching from above. Do you think she’s upset with me for not doing more?

Seeing how I don’t believe in the existence of God or Heaven, I could do nothing more than silently hug her as she cried.

And that’s when it hit me.

Why humans need God. Need religion.

It is so difficult and painful to face grief and loss and death. To understand why something happened and for the answer to be ‘Just because’.

It is so much easier to blame it on an imaginary third person. Someone omnipresent and omnipotent. Someone who controls our destiny, who controls death. Because without that assurance, the world is chaos. To believe that our loved ones don’t just perish, but ascend to another realm where they continue living the best life, and watch out for us.

And I appreciated how lucky mum is, to be able to believe in that imaginary being. To believe that her mother is watching over her.

Because I can’t.

Culture-Vulture

My last few posts have not been very ‘Indian’, so here I am writing about India again!

Let’s talk about Indian culture. We have people bombarding us with advice all the time on how to behave appropriately and act according to our culture.

What is Indian culture?

We have policemen arresting couples for PDA on Valentine’s day in the name of preserving our culture. Because showing affection in public or wearing revealing clothes or being sexual in any way in public is against Indian culture.

FYI those are Victorian values that trickled down to us when we were ruled by the British. Remember that? Indians have been quiet open about sexuality. Hell, we wrote the Kamasutra! Someone from that era would actually get thrashed in India today for not adhering to the Indian culture!

Talking about revealing clothes. These pretty traditional sarees that we’re so proud of to uphold our culture, we worn without blouses. British introduced blouses because they were scandalized by how revealing Indian women’s clothes were. Ironical right?

Let’s go further back. Hindi is somewhat derived from Urdu, an influence of the Muslim invaders. Would you call that not-a-part-of-Indian-culture?

Let’s hit rewind again! And we reach the much-debated question. Are we ourselves invaders in this land? And where does the Aryan debate leave us?

What is this Indian culture? Is it the culture of the indigenous tribes that existed before the Aryan invasion? Or the culture before Mughal Invasions? Or that before the British?

And what is Indian culture now?

What we’re trying to cling to so desperately has changed and evolved through time. There is no way to define what exactly our culture is, and what it demands. It’s ever-changing.

Let our behavior define what Indian culture is today. Not the other way round.

Ache Din Aane Wale Hai

This one’s long overdue.

In the past 1-2 months, who hasn’t heard these words?! This ‘song’ has been played over and over, on the television, the radio; I have read these words a billion times on Facebook and on Twitter. Especially the during the elections and on the day results were announced.

These words are supposed to symbolize hope. Hope for progress, for less poverty, for more employment. And most importantly, for less corruption. These words used to (and still do!) fill Indian hearts with warmth and hope and happiness and security. They show the belief Indians have that one man, this one man, will wave his magic wand and make everything alright.

Let’s get this straight people. He’s not Dumbledore!

And what do these words really mean for us? The idea of Democracy, at least in my opinion, is that people make independent, rational, informed decisions on who to vote for, based on their stands on issues, or their assurance of solving them.

Though this result seems like a major win, to me it seems like a devastating loss. The loss of peoples’ minds. The loss of their ability to distinguish between their own opinions, and the influence of advertising. The loss of rationality.

These past two months, people weren’t thinking along the lines of ‘Congress has been in power for 10 years, let’s see what other parties have to offer and if they are more adept at solving our social and economic problems.’ or whatever it is  that they think. All they were doing, is mindlessly humming ‘Hum Modiji ko lane wale hai, Ache din aane wale hai’ over and over in their heads.

This is a huge win for Modi. He has not just succeeded in winning the elections, he has succeeded in almost brainwashing a million people into blindly believing in him, in creating a cult. You never know when this ‘Modi fever’ will evolve into a religion by itself. Watch out, Narendra Modi could be the next Jesus Christ or Mohammad.

No, I’m not being paranoid. And I’m not saying that Modi is an evil villain set out to rule the world, or even India! He might turn out to be just what India needs right now. I really hope he does. My problem is the fact that no one is ready to even consider that he might not be  as awesome as everyone hopes he is.

 

P.S. No offence to any religion, or any Modi-lover.

 

Aam Aadmi ke Vichar – The Thoughts of a Common Man

The biggest event happening right now in India is the election. And surprisingly, everything else has taken a backseat.

Of course, this should be the case, since elections are a major part of Indian politics. After all, we are a democracy! But I have never before seen such enthusiasm, or such drive to make a change. To change the current situation of Indian politics.

The Television shows haven’t done much to create this atmosphere other than air the stupid advertisements made by different political parties. Which brings me to another issue. Should parties really be allowed to have such intense ad campaigns?! Their advertisements don’t even highlight their stand on issues or their policies or what they plan to develop once they come into power. All their advertisements do is criticize the other party! That’s not just bad politics, that’s bad advertising! What they’re basically saying is ‘That brand is bad, so choose ours. ‘Cause well, what other choice do you have?’. 

Coming back to what I was saying earlier. I was pleasantly surprised to see the initiative taken by radio stations to get people to vote. I have immense respect for them now. No matter what issue comes to light, the radio stations create awareness about it instead of just sensationalizing it. Kudos to them for trying so hard to get Mumbaikars to vote, even though the turnout was quite disappointing. 

A question has haunted me ever since I could think for myself and could understand even a teensy bit of politics. FYI, I still have very limited knowledge. So this is a question that would have crossed the mind of every AAM AADMI like me. These politicians go on to become MPs, right? And then some MPs become Ministers of different fields such as Finance, Health, Agriculture, etc. Now how do we expect these ministers, who are most of the times unaware about the field they head or better yet ILLITERATE, to solve the problems our nation is facing?! Shouldn’t there be some requirement, some accountability, for the person in whose hands our entire Health system or Women and Childcare Development lies?! Now you would say they have experts to help them out. But then why not make the experts in charge? What are the Ministers there for; just acquiring power and filling their pockets?

But who am I to complain about any of these? I didn’t vote ! It was my first chance to vote. The only thing I wanted to do was go in there and press NONE OF THE ABOVE and come out. Because none of these parties deserve our vote. 

But I didn’t do that. Because I got bored.

Makes you think. The real reason for India’s terrible state is not them. It’s us.

Saas Bahu aur Saazish

Yes, you guessed right.

Daily soaps in India; quite different from those in US or UK right?

These saas-bahu serials have become a joke all over the country.

The central characters have so many problems in their lives, that our lives in comparison seem void of any drama! People come back from the death and change their faces at will. Every few months, the show takes a leap, as if it wasn’t bad enough we had to witness the sensationalized events of this generation. Even after 20 years, people look the same and the old ones just refuse to die! 

But these shows still go strong, and their TRP just keeps rising. Ever wondered why?

You may think

Of course we know why. Because all these women at home are bored and want some drama in life.

That may be true. These shows are extremely riveting though, showing daily petty conflicts that the audience can relate to, and then dramatizing them to the extent that puts hyperbole to shame.

Yes I speak from experience. As a kid I was hooked to the 2-3 daily soaps my mum used to watch. So much so that I would stay up past my bedtime to watch them with her. Guess what, she never complained.

Thankfully, puberty knocked some sense into me and introduced me to American shows such as Friends, HIMYM, TBBT, Supernatural, etc. I also watch loads of crime-solving shows such as Castle, Psych, CSI, Criminal Minds, you name it! My current favourite is the British Sherlock. LOVE IT!

So now whenever I turn on the TV and start watching one of these, my mum comes up to me with utmost concern telling me how violent these shows are. And whenever we have a fight or I do anything she doesn’t like, her favourite weapon is ‘Watching these gruesome and violent TV shows all day long has made you so aggressive!’

It’s called PUBERTY Ma!

So I had to sit through a daily soap marathon with mum, and thankfully I survived. But I was stunned to see the amount of cruelty and violence that they portray! Two years ago, I was similarly shocked to see the same in children’s fairy tales, but that’s an issue for another time.

At least shows such as Criminal Minds and Supernatural are overtly violent, and distinguish between ‘us’ (the normal ones) and the violent ones. The bad guys are monsters or misguided humans or psychopaths, and no one is shown in black and white but in shades of grey.

But these daily soaps show cruelty and manipulation in daily life. They always have this one poor, helpless damsel in distress surrounded by the big bad world. And they are mostly ill-treated by the other women in their life! They show all of the issues our society faces today; dowry, domestic violence, child marriage. But they never show these things as problems, more like the way our society or culture functions. The women never stand up for themselves, never defy these problems and create a path for themselves. Rather they succumb and live in pitiful conditions, until their knight in shining armour arrives and rescues them from their misery. Off they ride to the castle. But wait, his family members hate them. And we come back in a complete circle. It’s a never-ending cycle of dependence and misery.

When you look at how much these shows impact people’s mindsets, you’ll be alarmed to realize what these shows do to women! Mind you, these are women who are facing somewhat similar situations in their family or work environment. And instead of being motivated and empowered, they choose to make sacrifices, because that’s what these shows teach them. They wait in vain for their knight, who never shows up because life is not fiction.

Exactly, these shows are fiction. These women should understand that. How can you blame TV shows for what happens to women in India?!

Yes, you are right. But think about this. Don’t you have a TV show or a book that you can relate to, that inspires you to behave in a certain manner. Well, the same thing happens here!

These shows literally promote social evils, and we all just sit back thinking how much harm can it really do!!

Yes I am a feminist. The kind who believes in equality, not the kind who wants to prove women are better than men.

If you tell me that the shows are right, and that is how women should behave or that it is their place in society, I will punch you in the face and break your nose.

But you’re reading this so I love you!

If you have anything to add or if you have any other counter-argument than the one above, please comment below!

History of Marriage in India

In India, or even elsewhere in the world for that matter, we talk about marriage as something very sacred and personal. A meeting of souls, we say. And cheating or divorce is disrespecting the sanctity of marriage.

But let’s pause and review what marriage is really about. (in India)

First humans lived in a community where everyone had the freedom to choose their sexual partners! Well, at least women did. Apparently, if a man refused the advances of a woman, he was labelled a eunuch! Hurrah for us!

The children were also raised by the entire community, kinda like a huge joint family without the complicated relations!

Then, one guy was scandalized to see his mum having sexual relations with another man right in front of his father! And he decided to bring in the concept of marriage, so that every child would know who his father was!

Basically they thought marriage would be feasible since they now had individual property which they wanted their progeny to inherit! But don’t be misleaded. This only meant that women could have only one husband. The men could still have multiple wives!

Now the Hindu religion demands that every man have at least one son. But just to be safe, because of high mortality rates, they would want to have many! And of course multiple wives were very helpful in fulfilling such whims.

But slowly the society settled on monogamy, and polygamy was left to the royals. But among the men were those who were asexual or impotent. Some died without fathering a son. And so came up the concept of niyoga. Niyoga allowed the wife to have sexual relations with another man (sometimes the husband’s brother) in order to give birth to a son! And yes, he would be considered the husband’s son.

For this practice, it was acceptable for a woman to be with four men in her lifetime, including her husband. If she was with four men she would be considered a whore. (Hence the whole drama with Draupadi in Mahabharata. The problem wasn’t that she would be with more than one man, the problem was that she would be with more then four!)

Slowly, that was stopped too, claiming that women are ravenous and sexually insatiable beasts who need to be controlled for their own good! (‘Cause men are so innocent) And there they were, trapped within the four walls of their house and being denied education; but let’s not delve into that!

You would say all that is in the past. Marriage today is a bond between equals, at least for the urban educated people. But here’s a secret. When the niyoga practice was abolished, they devised a method to keep the women faithful to their husband.

Have you ever wondered what the priests keep muttering and chanting during marriage?! Well in one of the ceremonies they marry you to three gods; Chandra (Moon), Brihaspati (Jupiter) and some other random god. The idea is that your husband then becomes the fourth man you have been with. If you are then with another guy in your life, you are technically, a whore!

So however modern you might be, or think that the present is very different from your past, it is all an illusion. Marriage was, is and will remain a social construct; and a billion dollar industry where you spend money trying to legitimize your relationship to the world.

And this folks, is the ugly truth.

If you have any comments, I would love to hear them!

Mumbai

It’s funny how you never notice these things in everyday life; little events or little images that give you small pleasures. Such as travelling in a local train with the wind blowing in your hair or hearing the familiar sounds of a Mumbai road. But once you have stayed away for a few months, it all comes rushing back to you. 

It feels good to be back. 

Back to the crowded streets; where the rickshaw walas’ navigating skills can put NASA to shame. 

The city does not boast of wealth, of affluence. Surely, a part of it does. But it’s core lies in the people itself. People so culturally diverse, yet all the same; working, moving, living. Helping each other in times of need.

 It has formed the core of my existence, making me who I am. 

The crowded, yet somehow airy local trains – a good place to clear your mind and think. The street chat – possibly unhealthy, but man! nothing in the world can taste that good! At the same time, the huge malls, the amazingly fancy restaurants, the luxury of it all. It’s funny how the two can co-exist with ease. 

Mumbaikars are true survivors; dealing with heat, traffic and pushing their way through crowds every single day. Once you have stayed in Mumbai, you can survive anywhere in the world! 

I am in no way an idealist. I know there are things terribly wrong in Mumbai. Take a certain loud-mouthed politician for example. But I tend to look at Mumbai with beer goggles; there’s beauty in everything! 

No matter what the studies say about Mumbai being filthy and unsafe; for me, Mumbai is one of the safest places in India. Maybe not always, but most of the time. 

But enough about me. What is your favourite place in India?! The place you were born or brought up in, or maybe the place you want to or already have settled down in??

Leave your comments down here!