Delhi has just witnessed the first Slut Walk.
I should have the freedom to wear what I want without fear of assault – verbal or physical, implicit or explicit.
Why am I slotted in the category of “loose” when the garments are too tight?
It’s my body and I will dress/undress in public as I please – so what if others find it revealing or titillating or inappropriate.
I should not be slotted in categories based on the clothes I wear. I am not my clothes.
Who decides what is appropriate and what is not?
How can you say that I invited trouble by wearing what I did?
Very true.....
Why should I lock my house when I go out?
It’s my house, the gate/door /wall marks the boundary and everybody knows that, things inside the house are my possessions and anybody entering without my permission is an intruder/ transgressor/thief.
If I leave my house unlocked and it is burgled why do people blame me and not the intruder?
With domestic help in the house why am I advised not to leave cash and valuables lying around?
How can you say I invited trouble by putting temptation in their path?
Very true .......
I have two options – take the safer one and lock my house or believe in the sanctity of ownership and leave it open.
See any connection?
I am a staunch advocate against sexual violence or harassment and firmly believe that no woman “asks” to be raped or molested. At the same time, I believe that appropriate dressing is contextual and decorum cannot be thrown to the winds. It’s just like taking appropriate steps to safeguard your home.
Correct me if I am wrong.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Thank God she's not alive
Sex ratio – a term which most people would have now become familiar with considering that the newspapers have been full of the sex ratio figures as revealed by the census. The child sex ratio is falling – that is the number of girls per 1000 boys in the 0-6 age group is decreasing. Now what, may I ask, is surprising about that? We as a society do not value our women so they are always the last to get medical help. And women themselves have been told for centuries that they must put everyone else before themselves so they do not even demand services. They have no economic value assigned to their work so one less or thousands less makes no difference to the GDP. Education too – they are lucky if they get it – even if they do, many end up sacrificing their potential for family or at the feet of the husband’s ego….. the usual refrain!
And there begins the cycle where the woman who has not felt valued by society and learnt not to value herself becomes society’s accomplice in eliminating the girl child. And so begins the downward spiral of the child sex ratio. Technology has made it easy and guilt-free. All you need to do is to find an unscrupulous doctor, get an ultrasound done, understand the unsaid message and decide. You could go a step further – chose the male embryo from the petri-dish. No bloodshed, no guilt, no evidence.
So far so good – but what defies logic is why prosperity and education are not making an impact. My grandmother believed that education would empower her daughters and she braved all opposition to send her daughters to school and university in the 1940s. She was sure that by the time her granddaughter grew up there would be no difference between a son and a daughter. Thank God she is not alive to see this day – how would I have explained this trend to her.
And there begins the cycle where the woman who has not felt valued by society and learnt not to value herself becomes society’s accomplice in eliminating the girl child. And so begins the downward spiral of the child sex ratio. Technology has made it easy and guilt-free. All you need to do is to find an unscrupulous doctor, get an ultrasound done, understand the unsaid message and decide. You could go a step further – chose the male embryo from the petri-dish. No bloodshed, no guilt, no evidence.
So far so good – but what defies logic is why prosperity and education are not making an impact. My grandmother believed that education would empower her daughters and she braved all opposition to send her daughters to school and university in the 1940s. She was sure that by the time her granddaughter grew up there would be no difference between a son and a daughter. Thank God she is not alive to see this day – how would I have explained this trend to her.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
shadi 3 crore ki
I have noticed that celebrations, be it birthdays or anniversaries or marriages, seem to be getting bigger and bigger and of course costlier and costlier. (And simultaneously, relationships are becoming more and more fragile and tenuous. People are willing to pay any price to be exclusive / unique / first-to-do-this or that; but unwilling to invest time and effort in relationships).
Nobody wants to be left behind in this race and few have the courage to stand out. (Somewhat strange - considering that you can only be a loser at the end of it – of resources if you are lucky, and much more if you are not).
So, even my maid whose monthly income from all sources would be about Rs. 5000.00 per month hosts a birthday party which boasts of balloons, festoons, fairy lights, chocolate cake, soft drinks, a magician and return gifts. She borrows and borrows without a qualm and when I try to reason with her to avoid these unnecessary expenses she actually misunderstands my motives (jealousy she implies! You people don’t want us to progress!!!).
While I am smarting, I suddenly remember all the applications for loans and withdrawals from Provident Fund accounts for weddings, that I recommended and forwarded for sanction as head of a branch and wonder why I am dissuading her – she’s borrowing to spend for a birthday, many of us borrow to spend on our daughter’s weddings. What’s the difference really? We are both spending beyond our means. And why do we do that? To live up to or surpass the aspirations and expectations set by some X or Y or by what is glamourised in movies and TV serials? What is it in human nature, which makes us ape extravagance and not emulate simplicity?
It must be this aspect of human weakness that has prompted the reality show “Shadi 3 crore ki”. As I pondered my first idle thought was - why only 3 and not 5 or 10? And what will they show I wondered. Not much ingenuity would be required with a budget like that unless one had the choice of arranging the wedding in the minimum amount and pocket the rest!
Second thought – in our country where traditionally the wedding expenditure is largely borne by the girl’s parents, what kind of impact will it have? After all, parents of daughters in this day and age too, lament the fact that they are unable to find a befitting match unless they are willing and able to shell out dowry. Or they have to compromise on the qualities / qualifications / social status. Many, instead of being proud rue the fact that their daughter is very highly qualified or earning well because an equally qualified boy comes with a prohibitive price tag. In fact, daughters are being eliminated in the womb because they are seen as a burden (the chief one being expenditure on marriage).
Censors object to heroes /heroines smoking on screen because they feel it will incite/inspire young people to emulate them – in similar vein I fear “shadi 3 crore ki” will fuel unrealistic aspirations and increase the burden on girls and their parents.
Nobody wants to be left behind in this race and few have the courage to stand out. (Somewhat strange - considering that you can only be a loser at the end of it – of resources if you are lucky, and much more if you are not).
So, even my maid whose monthly income from all sources would be about Rs. 5000.00 per month hosts a birthday party which boasts of balloons, festoons, fairy lights, chocolate cake, soft drinks, a magician and return gifts. She borrows and borrows without a qualm and when I try to reason with her to avoid these unnecessary expenses she actually misunderstands my motives (jealousy she implies! You people don’t want us to progress!!!).
While I am smarting, I suddenly remember all the applications for loans and withdrawals from Provident Fund accounts for weddings, that I recommended and forwarded for sanction as head of a branch and wonder why I am dissuading her – she’s borrowing to spend for a birthday, many of us borrow to spend on our daughter’s weddings. What’s the difference really? We are both spending beyond our means. And why do we do that? To live up to or surpass the aspirations and expectations set by some X or Y or by what is glamourised in movies and TV serials? What is it in human nature, which makes us ape extravagance and not emulate simplicity?
It must be this aspect of human weakness that has prompted the reality show “Shadi 3 crore ki”. As I pondered my first idle thought was - why only 3 and not 5 or 10? And what will they show I wondered. Not much ingenuity would be required with a budget like that unless one had the choice of arranging the wedding in the minimum amount and pocket the rest!
Second thought – in our country where traditionally the wedding expenditure is largely borne by the girl’s parents, what kind of impact will it have? After all, parents of daughters in this day and age too, lament the fact that they are unable to find a befitting match unless they are willing and able to shell out dowry. Or they have to compromise on the qualities / qualifications / social status. Many, instead of being proud rue the fact that their daughter is very highly qualified or earning well because an equally qualified boy comes with a prohibitive price tag. In fact, daughters are being eliminated in the womb because they are seen as a burden (the chief one being expenditure on marriage).
Censors object to heroes /heroines smoking on screen because they feel it will incite/inspire young people to emulate them – in similar vein I fear “shadi 3 crore ki” will fuel unrealistic aspirations and increase the burden on girls and their parents.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Painful parting
It’s not so long ago that my husband was posted to Bombay. (I mean 20 years is not a long time ……). How hard we tried to get a change but that was not to be. How we cursed his Personnel Dept for their rigid stance. I came very reluctantly, very unhappily. And then I fell in love with Bombay. Pure, unconditional and consistent - despite the squalor or the bursting at the seams local trains or the ever dug up roads, the traffic, the concrete, the weather, whatever….. 'twas the love of a mature woman as she aged from 33 to 53 years and Bombay became Mumbai.
I discovered myself in Bombay. It is here that I shed the burden of guilt for being a working mother. It is here that I learnt that it was OK to ask my husband to help me with household chores. It is here that I learnt not to distrust strangers. It is here that I got and overcame a dreaded disease. It is here that my daughter grew up without fear of molestation or eve teasing. I learnt to value the maids who taught me quite a few lessons in professionalism. I understood what it meant to pursue your dreams and gathered the courage to shrug off my boring job. I shed a lot of unnecessary baggage.
Now suddenly its time to bid adieu to my love and move on to Delhi.
My first memory of Delhi is when my mother and I (10 years old) accompanied my father on his official trip. While he went to work, we went on Delhi Darshan – Jantar Mantar, Qutab Minar, Ashoka Pillar, Humanyun’s Tomb, Purana Qila, Red Fort, India Gate, Rashtrapati Bhavan, Parliament House, Connaught Place and the University. It was awesome considering that I lived in Allahabad and all my outstation trips were confined to various uncles, aunts and cousins in Lucknow, Gorakhpur and Kanpur.
So when I qualified for admission to B.Sc in Miranda House, I was thrilled. But my wings were trimmed before I could fly. After much debate and discussion and heartburn, it was decided that I was too young and impressionable for Big Bad Delhi and so was packed off to Jaipur instead.
My tryst with Delhi was destined and three years later I was there for my post graduation – none the wiser but definitely older. I reveled in the (relative) freedom, couldn’t get enough of Nirulas, Giggles, Softy at Standard, D’pauls cold coffee, Univ Coffee House, Tib Dhabs. Loved the DU campus, the Physics Dept., and the dashing prof. who made me weak at the knees and whose sheer existence made the choice of Physics seem worthwhile. I made lifelong friends, one of whom I married.
I can’t quite pinpoint when the infatuation with Delhi wore off. Delhi lost its charm (even when viewed from a place like Patna, our first posting after marriage). It seemed too brash, too cunning, too rude, too matlabi, too hot, too cold- too “everything” for me.
Now back to Delhi – a wee bit wiser, and a lot older. Let’s see what it holds……..
I discovered myself in Bombay. It is here that I shed the burden of guilt for being a working mother. It is here that I learnt that it was OK to ask my husband to help me with household chores. It is here that I learnt not to distrust strangers. It is here that I got and overcame a dreaded disease. It is here that my daughter grew up without fear of molestation or eve teasing. I learnt to value the maids who taught me quite a few lessons in professionalism. I understood what it meant to pursue your dreams and gathered the courage to shrug off my boring job. I shed a lot of unnecessary baggage.
Now suddenly its time to bid adieu to my love and move on to Delhi.
My first memory of Delhi is when my mother and I (10 years old) accompanied my father on his official trip. While he went to work, we went on Delhi Darshan – Jantar Mantar, Qutab Minar, Ashoka Pillar, Humanyun’s Tomb, Purana Qila, Red Fort, India Gate, Rashtrapati Bhavan, Parliament House, Connaught Place and the University. It was awesome considering that I lived in Allahabad and all my outstation trips were confined to various uncles, aunts and cousins in Lucknow, Gorakhpur and Kanpur.
So when I qualified for admission to B.Sc in Miranda House, I was thrilled. But my wings were trimmed before I could fly. After much debate and discussion and heartburn, it was decided that I was too young and impressionable for Big Bad Delhi and so was packed off to Jaipur instead.
My tryst with Delhi was destined and three years later I was there for my post graduation – none the wiser but definitely older. I reveled in the (relative) freedom, couldn’t get enough of Nirulas, Giggles, Softy at Standard, D’pauls cold coffee, Univ Coffee House, Tib Dhabs. Loved the DU campus, the Physics Dept., and the dashing prof. who made me weak at the knees and whose sheer existence made the choice of Physics seem worthwhile. I made lifelong friends, one of whom I married.
I can’t quite pinpoint when the infatuation with Delhi wore off. Delhi lost its charm (even when viewed from a place like Patna, our first posting after marriage). It seemed too brash, too cunning, too rude, too matlabi, too hot, too cold- too “everything” for me.
Now back to Delhi – a wee bit wiser, and a lot older. Let’s see what it holds……..
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