Food for thought

A five month old infant had been brought to a district hospital somewhere in Central India. Her rectum and vagina had become one as a result of a savagery called rape.
Was stunned and speechless as I heard this. An act of unbelievable insanity and unpardonable brutality.

For a while I was numb. But eventually when I got back to my senses, I was reminded of reports on rape and reactions thereon in newspapers and on television channels. A good number of people often opine that women actually "invite" trouble by dressing up provocatively, going to pubs, restaurants etc and by spending nights out of the protection of their homes..
In Bollywood films also one comes across references to "khuli tijori" meaning a woman wearing revealing clothes. And the irony is that such a term is used to suggest humour in the film.
I think it is very insulting for the entire womanhood and there is hardly any humour in such filthy similies. If anything such disgraceful references make the offenders bolder and their scatological views on women stronger and more legitimate (for them).
But then Bollywood has never really set examples in good behaviour. Nor do they seriously take up any social responsibility while "minting" currency of every kind.

While on Bollywood, one cannot forget the infamous Shiney Ahuja case.
He is reported to have said in his defence that the smell of washing powder on the body of a maid is enough for any man to be put off. So how could he even think of going near the woman.
One would like to believe that Mr.Ahuja has an extraordinary nose or else how could he smell the body of his maid without going near her?
However Shiney has been given seven years in jail by a court in Mumbai. Let us see if he really spends those many years in a prison.

Also there are those scores of so called reality and comedy shows on 24x7 entertainment television channels. Filled with cheapness and vulgarity of the lowest possible order, these shows are ironically supposed to be providing "wholesome family pleasure", specially on weekends.

I also recall here with grave sourness the middle aged woman who was among the passengers standing in a jam packed BEST bus one evening. She was dressed in an ordinary loose shalwar-kameez, a dupatta covered her head. Behind her were some young boys. Most of the passengers in the bus had not even noticed her until she turned her head and told the boys to "behave". It seems they were pushing her unnecessarily and in the process touching her obscenely. The boys started shouting in response saying did they not have better things to do than "waste" their time on a granny.
When the conductor intervened and asked the boys to apologise to the elderly woman whom they had indeed demeaned, they threatend him too. Other passengers in the bus including me were silent (or at the most murmuring) onlookers, angry at the arrogance and lewdness of the boys. But that was the most we did for the dignity of an elderly lower middle class woman.

Neither the five month old infant who I mentioned in the beginning nor this elderly woman who I describe now had done anything to provoke their tormentors. Neither in dress nor in behaviour.
Why then did they have to put up with so much atrociousness and injury to their dignity, their body, their soul...?

While I completely agree that women must be modest in carrying themselves, I vehemently refute the theory that their revealing outfits and their beauty can turn a sober man into a cruel rapist.

A rapist is most certainly a mentally disturbed person who also has criminal instincts, but this disorder remains hidden, until they strike and commit the heinous act.
Can such a crime be stopped/avoided? If not how should the poor victim be compensated and how should the wicked criminal be punished?
Let us not forget that many times the offender is not an outsider.

Will death penalty for rape keep a check on potential rapists?
It is a debatable issue. But most importantly the legal procedure to establish rape must undergo some humane changes as well. As per the present norms a victim must face a host of torturing querries publicly that further assault her self-respect and leave her femininity grievously injured.
The victim is stigmatised while the criminal roams about not just freely, but most often without even a scratch to his reputation and honour.

Isn't this some food for thought?
Can rape be ever justified?? Do eve teasers have the lisence to disgrace anyone whenever they please???

Chhod aaye hum wo galiyan

They looked at me in disbelief.
The boys and me were at the breakfast table. I had waited in anxious anticipation all night, was sure they would congratulate me enthusiastically at having won over the only addiction to which I had ever succumbed. But I had not expected this shocked silence in response.
Here I was... feeling like a victorious soldier just come home after a long and difficult war. And there across the table were two faces looking at me dejectedly.
This was surely not the kind of welcome that awaited my likes.

I took a sip of tea from my cup and waited a little more. The boys were now looking at each other.
"Oh! Come on...I've only deactivated my Facebook account last night...nothing so shocking ..." I said as they still stared hard at me. Were they trying to convince themselves?
Enjoying the dumb-founded look on their sweet faces I went on:
"Is there something so very astonishing about it...something that I'm missing...???" I asked.
"Amma! Have you really done it?!!! Why on earth did you take this extreme step??? How are you going to live without your Facebook family?"
This was my elder one's string of queries.

The younger one, the quieter of the two, was I think still absorbing the facts of the situation because he sat silently, thoughtful eyes apparently watching the omelette in his plate, but mind certainly away elsewhere.

Honestly I was wondering if my children did not know how much time I was spending on this addiction called Facebook. I was into so many groups, quite a few tags, inbox messages, many of which I still had not read. A whole lot of my FB friends were people who I had never met, and would never meet, yet we were sharing so much. Songs, writeups, photos, jokes...
And as if this was not enough, we were actually sharing lives...joys and concerns, views and opinions...
It was like one big friendly neighbourhood. Eventually some of us had become as dear and as near as one's family. I knew exactly when there were guests at A's place or when B was going on a family holiday...a marriage at C's place or an anniversary celebration in D's clan, E attending a conference abroad, F mourning the loss of a girlfriend, or XYZ conducting a public interest rally/meeting.

Interestingly at times when a nice film or television programme was on the air, the entire group would be watching and commenting on it on Facebook!!!
That was the kind of closeness that had developed.

When I think of it now I find it impossible to believe that I actually did shed my inherent aloofness and privacy and did open up to so many strangers at a place where more and more strangers were getting an insight into those aspects of my life where only the closest had ventured thus far.

I had no idea who all could be watching my activities on this networking site till a friend pointed out to my near-24x7 presence on Facebook.
I felt as if I had been caught having an illicit affair!!!
My well wishers had now started admonishing me and my mother was worried for my health. My doctor was telling me to take the morning walks a bit seriously. But I was interested only in Facebooking, so much so that at times my back and fingers ached and I felt nauseated!!!
Slept late at night, got up late in the morning. All wrong life style and yet the guilt was ephemeral.

Going back in time I remember vividly the unexpected invitation from a dear nephew to join Facebook.
Till then I had only vaguely heard of it (and other networking sites) where apparently people from across the globe could interact, become friends and share so much that was, for an uninitiated person like me impossible to imagine.
Also I had thought that these sites were for young boys and girls to have fun and also benefit through exchange of information on topics that are of mutual interest professionally and academically.
What could a middle-aged home maker be doing on Facebook? The thought that I would be the oddest creature out there made me go pale in the face of Facebook :))

In the days to come I would go on to prove myself thoroughly wrong though. Discovering the magic of having the world at my finger tips was intoxicating. I found many long-lost friends as if ready and waiting to meet me. Also met up with half of my extended family on Facebook. The plight and pain of the North Indian Muslim of my generation, often the existence of half of whose family has become virtual due to the Partition of India, had lessened considerably as Facebook brought those hitherto-unseen-faces on a common platform. For me, my relatives across the border and abroad now existed a little more in reality...I could see (and at times even feel them)through pictures on their profile and interact with them through comments and messages on Facebook.

Facebook had thus become a lifeline for me. And anyone who heard of my dissociation with it could not help feeling amazed. I must admit here that I still have not stopped loving Facebook. It has blessed me with some of the most wonderful people I could have ever known. It has enriched my life and made me a much better person in more ways than one. It has been that legendary "friend, philosopher and guide" to me when I needed one the most.
So it is my fault entirely if I let go of all controls. It is my weakness that when I did realise of my fault I only half-heartedly tried to redeem myself.
But what is an addiction after all?
An obsession of sorts that devours all else. My innocent love affair was becoming a sinful obsession.
It was, without any doubt, becoming really illicit!!!
And in my own interest I had to stop here and now.

Well then, should I not be proud of myself for what I have achieved?
Indeed I have accomplished the impossible!!!
But ridiculous as it may sound I hate myself for having won over my addiction.
I have moved on.
There is going to be no looking back. But it will be surely some more time before I forgive myself for having "chhod aaye wo galiyan..."

From the archives...

This was written in 2008 and now almost three years down the line I see so much more deterioration that leaves me astonished and speechless
-----------------------------------------------------------


Cricket is such a lively subject. Never short of controversies, never short of glamour and above all never short of what everyone aspires for. Big money. And the game India is nuts about has always been improvising. It is so wonderful to see life flowing through the sport for as far back as I can remember and I am convinced after all the latest developments on and off the field that there is never going to be a dull moment in the game for many more years.

Take Harbhajan-Sreesanth controversy. I am inclined to believe that Cricket and politics can now be safely compared and equated on a similar level, where might is right seems to rule the day. Harbhajan was in the news earlier too for a fight with an Australian player, but at that time we as a nation rose to support and defend him as if there was no other way to register one's love and loyalty for India. Now when Harbhajan has allegedly slapped an Indian who is his team-mate on one occasion and on another they stand on the opposite sides of the fence, separated by a well-calculated business transaction, India stands divided on the issue. However it is good to see the majority having spoken in favour of admitting that Harbhajan has indeed gone too far this time. The conclusion as per my simple logic therefore
is that we do have different sets of morals, and discrimination, specially if "national pride" is made the centre of a controversy.

Take another instance. Vijay Mallaya's gift to IPL. The cheerleaders. Supposedly beautiful semi-clad females swaying their made-to-order bodies whenever a four or six is hit seems more of a cartoon than anything worth watching by mature adults. Even if one does not cry for saving the Indian culture, it is quite evident that such an absurd, unnecessary "borrowed" idea of entertainment is degrading for the Indian masses in general. Do the likes of Vijay Mallayas feel that every little piece of entertainment must essentially involve dumb item-girl-like characters to be really appealing. Such male chauvinists must bear in their small minds that women have proved that they are much more than just sex objects. However Vijay Mallya has a reputation of treating women like sales-promotion-gadgets. Its a wonder that in this era of women's emancipation the liquor baron is exalted for his vulgarity.

In our earlier days we were told that money cannot buy happiness. Now we are advised "Whoever said money can't buy happiness didn't know where to shop"! And our Cricketing fraternity has proved time and again that they have their shopping details well etched out. They know exactly where to shop and do not mind becoming commodities themselves!!

The question that comes to my mind after taking stock of the situation is whether this much commercialisation is right or are we going out of bounds and whether a retrospection is long overdue? From a gentleman's game Cricket has to the gully and mohallah, which is very good indeed. Infact as one sees the common man getting opportunities that were in the earlier days reserved for the so-called blue-blooded elite the Indian democracy does seem to be vibrant fro once.
Is that the reason then for the deteriorating morals? The common man is so determined to jump ranks in the social heirarcy that he does not mind a couple of skeletons in his closet in the process?
Cricket is just one field of human activity, but when an entire social setup begins to turn topsy-turvy its better to pause for while and look back for reasons and solutions.

GAK

Honeymooning was over. Time had come to accept marriage for what it really was. I realised this when one fine morning my mother-in-law handed the proverbial "chaabi-ka-guchcha" over to me in the presence of her husband and my husband. She said quite Nirupa-Roy-like:
"Its all yours now. The house. The Khandaan-ki-izzat. And of course the kitchen!!!"

I thought she had been rehearsing her lines and planning this "ceremony" for quite sometime. She had chosen an auspicious day, ensured that the two men of the house be present...and had prepared the Bollywoodish kheer too herself.
The Chaabi-ka-guchcha was quite an ornament in fact. Made from silver it had intricate minaakari made out very beautifully all over it. It hung proudly on my ma-in-law's waist tucked into her sari. This little piece of female adornment was actually a symbol of authority and signified the high position of the woman who possessed it.

I remember my hesitation. It was not perfunctory. I felt it was still her right being my husband's mother and having run the house efficiently for so long. I would learn from her gradually, make myself worthy of taking charge and only then would I think of steping into her shoes. But her mind was made up. She wanted her freedom. She needed to relax. Oh! Yes, she would be there to guide me, but from now on I would be "in-charge".
The Chaabi-ka-guchcha perhaps marks the biggest turning point in a woman's married life.
I now had the authority. I had the keys.
But I also had immense responsibilities and duties.

The first few months went off rather smoothly. Then...
I didn't know how it happened, but every time I was broke by the third week of the month. Whatever I tried, seemed to be of no help in improving the situation. Husband Ji was perturbed. His mother had never asked him for more money in the middle of the month. In fact she even seemed to often save a bit...!!!

I had studied Economics and a little commerce too. But surely Ghalib, the renowned Urdu poet had also been a student of Economics. How else could he write "hazaron khwahishein" and then also confess, "bahot niklay mere armaan lekin phir bhi kam niklay"

My husband suggested that I should make a note of all that I spend.
Fantastic!
I thought I would now have some peace of mind. But that was not to be. In fact I was more confused as my balance sheet never seemed to balance. For a long while I sat trying sincerely until my head ached and I felt giddy.
Milkman, Dhobi, Bai, Mali, cook, Newspaper, Electricity bill, telephone bill, petrol pump bill, vegetables, grocery, friend's daughter's birthday gift...I had calculated all...but still something was missing...
And then...God gave me wisdom...!!!
Husband satisfied. Me at ease. All fine.

One morning some months later he asked:
"What is GAK? You seem to be spending every month on it, yet I don't seem to see or understand what it is..."
I told him.

That of course did not change my pattern of living or the expenditure incurred every month.
And YESSSS... my husband gave me a raise too...but not before giving up every little hope of seeing me ever balance the Profit & Loss Account and pronouncing me as a potential threat to budding economists!
For "GAK" in my books of account stood for "God Alone Knows"...!!!!!!!!!
Ever since I have stopped writing any accounts.
God gives me...and I spend... :))