No woman no cry

British India:

That night the household was a flutter with arrangements to furnish the room where the young daughter will lose her virginity. Some one gave the idea of a mirrored room with many lamps, many ran to fetch mirrors and lanterns from various houses, in turn making the entire community participate invisibly in the sexual act to be committed. Many middle aged men sighed in anticipation of the night putting themselves in the bridegroom's shoes.

Revathi was afraid and wistful and relatives joked around trying to lighten her mood as they mistook it for the fear and shyness of a virgin girl of seventeen years. When the hustle bustle of marriage preparations started months ago, she tried to feel the excitement as people told her that she was fortunate to get such a match, it is not everyday that a girl marries a Tehsildar who travels around in a horse with a big entourage at his beck and call. No one mentioned twice the fact that he was a 40 year old widower. 

She was gently shoved into the room full of mirrors and lamps at the appropriate hour. The man who is her husband now because of the ceremony was waiting impatiently. He drank the milk she brought and pushed her onto the bed to examine her more closely.

While the lamps did a devilish dance of light and shade making him look handsome at one point and menacing the other. Before any further action, a scream tore from the base of her stomach which pierced the night. She was stunned by the intensity of her scream. Her thoughts jarred the next moment as a huge hand slapped her hard.

As if in a trance she jumped, sprinted across the room and bolted out of the house in a flash. She ran till she came out of the village and walked till day break to reach the village next. She hid in a wagon which was un tethered from the bulls which were resting. She fell asleep though she willed herself not to.

(she was fetched from the village by her elders, her bridegroom was coaxed into consummating the marriage after the emissaries from her parent's side worked relentlessly for two more years. she gave birth to 4 children and became a widow early on. By then all the joyfulness in her was drained leaving her bitter and coarse)

Independent India:

Leela wondered whether female orgasm was a myth. She wanted to experience it once at least but her boyfriend believed in quick gun Murugan approach without much of foreplay. He fell asleep afterwards promptly as well. She finished on her own much later after his soft snores became steady. They had been lovers since a year. Clandestine meetings were exciting initially, now she was not so sure. She did not understand the hype created around sex as well. What next was the question she asked herself from time to time. Though Madhu was 'eligible' in every sense of the world, she was afraid to tell herself that he was not right for her. Unaware of her inner world, he thought that she enjoys sex as she  never  says no and her whimpering which is  due  to pain while making love sounded to him like appreciation of his manliness. 
Over cups of coffee or  over  pegs of whiskey with his friends, he discussed 'how the court should recognise marital rape is real and perpetrators should be punished'. (since parents got  a whiff of their affair, they were married combining  both their cultures, everyone involved feeling 'progressive' for doing so. Whimpering continued..)

Rants

 Rant 1: Recently met lot of old friends from college over a happy  occasion. First thing which came to my mind  each time I bumped into a familiar face was joy which was reciprocated too. The seed of this rant was planted when a long lost dear friend said that  he does not feel  old at all and he feels like some event we did together 15 years ago happened yesterday. And generally spoke about how it is important to feel young to be young (this happened over drinks when we met again in the night).  I know one angle of this  is also that when old friends meet then they pick up where they left off and such. But, obviously  there was another  thought which came to me 'ya right! you are a man!'. As a woman how I am reminded that I  am getting older each year, going past my prime, my face is showing signs  of age, my hair is greying and thinning - tips about what I  should  be doing, how to tighten my skin from now onwards, how to do this and how to do that... No wonder I  do not feel 22 any more. Though patriarchal male privilege is done to  death in various circles, I feel the  feminist female disenfranchisement.

Rant 2: What is with all these soaps on the T.V revolving around romances which pan out agonisingly over years (keep glancing while I am at mom's and other places where I do  not  have control over the remote). This new trend of romance is evident in all the channels. Another trend is also majority of them are romances between 'married by elders in the same community' couples and either husband does not love his wife because he had a girl friend before or wife does not love  her husband because she has misunderstood him some how or  some thing equally inane. This new age sanskaari bahu can facebook, handle smart phones and all other things. But, she will be busy getting into  one after the other tangles in her in laws place. In between there will be slow motion scenes of these couples grazing their finger tips to romantic music!!

Rant 3: Not being able to get a home which  is decent to rent due to ever shrinking living space, ever expanding city, pushing of fixed income people to periphery which  is an implicitly agreed phenomenon of a capitalistic society.

Rant 4 till infinity: Along with these add all other triggers of being judged, being muted, passive aggressified, labelled and so on. Now that  compiles today's rants.
  

What stilled or surged seeing Thelma and Louise take the leap ...

Two women who want one weekend away from their 'regular' lives decide to go on a road trip. For one, the regular life is being at home catering to her husband who sells products to other people by sweet talk and his sweetness turns vitriolic when he is with his wife. Ok she living in that life is her 'choice' one can argue but let us come to that choice later. The other woman is a waitress staying single though she wants an elusive boyfriend to be more than that. She waits for him and calls him a thousand times and clings on to the hope that he would come around. She is outspoken and appears tough. That life is her 'choice' too lets say. Ya ya we will come back to that choice in some time.

The roadtrip turns a nightmare and they end up being forced to choose whether they would like to be shot or imprisoned for life or fly into the grand canyon. They laugh and chose the thrid option.

After watching the glowing and glorious faces of Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis as they make that decision, it struck me that women are 'given' those choices which seem like Dante's various levels of inferno today as well.

- Choose to marry or any man can think you are available

- If married (good girl) then choose to have children or the society will look at you like you are a person with difficiencies or you do not want a child to interfere with your merry making ways

- Choose to not have alcohol or you can get raped, beaten or killed – because boys will be boys

- Choose to think of your career as second priority in comparison with your partner's career or you might end up alone and so on and so forth

None of these are new and many of them are 'cliches'. But try to stir out of one of them, then see how that works out. Choose whether you want to be a 'good woman' or we will hound you with labels and will get away with silencing you one way or the other...

No my friends that will not work with us all now. We do not want your choices and we do not want your veiled threats. We shall laugh our ways to glory come heaven or high water.

Menstruation Ramayana

I remember boys were asked to skip one particular biology class in class 8^th. Our lady teacher addressed us girls and hurriedly finished off the chapter. So what is this scandalous thing that we learnt that day or did not learn because it was drowned in unfamiliar scientific terminology?

 It was a chapter on male and female reproductive organs. Some things which stuck then are,

- After starting my period I can/might become pregnant (the process of how was not registered properly; in post class giggle session, some girls said by kissing, some said it will definitely happen if we eat leftover food of boys/men and so on, )

- Before starting my period my egg is sitting and waiting for the sperm. When that does not happen it starts to disintegrate in a bloody way (tantrum thrown by the angry egg!)

- Men's reproductive organ – the pictures made us giggle and the teacher nervous

- pregnancy is a fantastic thing which ends with a baby's birth – placenta is there for feeding and so on. As an aside, we wondered about baby's crap and where it goes. Some of us imagined baby crap floating in the stomach and wondered whether that is the reason for preganant bellies.

Any way since I had liberal and progressive upbringing at home, I knew that night itself very clearly what happens, how it happens and why. I shared that with other girls next day and what happened next is another story. 

I heard even today the situation is not exactly different when young women from M.P or girls from Karnataka cities, towns or villages share their experiences.

Why the hell do people go on saying that a female egg does everything else hurriedly so that it can come and sit in a place waiting for the warrior sperm to come see it? Doesnt it parallel the story of Ramayan? 

Pardon the caricatured narration of it though: Sita after being born just to marry Rama is found in a box (Ovum) and she is reared by Janaka to be an up righteous young princess and she waits for Rama to win her hand ..... once that happens, in the second round she waits for Rama to rescue her from Ravana ...... in the third round she waits for Rama to clear her name......  in the round next she waits for Rama to own her offspring and so on.

As long as Sita (in a one dimensioned list of notable  moral values way) is the role model for an ideal woman, this take on menstruation will go on.

What women want on bloody days

Letter to sanitary napkin advertisement makers:
Dear Ad makers,
I am a woman and I want to to share my views on what you try to sell me is a happy period. I also write this on behalf of many women I know who menstruate and use sanitary napkins.
Some of us are heavy bleeders, some of us are not, some have stomach cramps, some have bloated breasts, some have bloated stomachs, some have food sensitivity, some of us have back aches, some of us have legs hurting, some of our migraine gets triggered by the period and the list goes on.

It is bad enough we can not talk about some of us being emotionally sensitive before our period and PMS is a 'bitch' word. Now I have to sit and take it year after year, you guys showing what women can achieve during periods? Wear a white pant and run around? Or wear sexy clothes and go for dinner? Mother and daughter skip together on the beach? Or climb up a ladder and take photos? Or save the world and come back to cook for the family?

One wonders who comes up with these concepts? As a woman who bleeds every month, I can say this about these ads, one thing that is very cleverly ignored is, what women want on these days. I need rest, I need my partner to be helpful, if I am mother then I want my partner to pitch in, I might need a day off if I am cramping up, I might want to rest and read, in the office I might need a day where I can put my legs up on a foot stool or anything except what is shown. ...

So these patriarchal and capitalistic messages tell me to ignore what my body tells me because I am now able to overcome my 'menstrual disability' by being super efficient, super chirpy, super enthusiastic and super whatever?

So next superwoman movie should have the line 'strap on your sanitary napkin sister' you can do whatever you want? (not that superwoman movie is being made).

I do not want to discount the comfort of wearing a sanitary pad which absorbs more or does not let the panties stain or whatever. But we the women are clientele remember? Why sell it to make us ignore our bodily signals and push us to perform high gear all the time?

At work place as it is the patriarchal culture makes it a taboo word to use. Already women with reproductive organs are a liability for 'efficient performance', we have PMS, periods, pregnancies and the likes right. Now you are telling everyone that with a correct napkin, we can do whatever we want? What about other days? We do not exist in your ads except for applying creams to become fairer and win a guy, testing out detergents for whiter clothes winning the husband's heart, falling all over men with hypnotic deodorants, selling tooth brushes to insurance policies ... with body parts which are deliberately removed from the reproductive function...

So if women lived in the world created by ads how would we look like? How would our day be? Where would our happiness reside in? No prizes for guessing..
The Stepford wives we are not because they are not real ..

A letter to my 20 year old self...

My dearest 20 year old in the whole world,

You are 20 and you are considered hot by many boys. Fellow students in your college think you are a recluse because you are hardly there in the college and it pains you to see why these females do not like you. Your lecturers hardly know your face as you are either absent or sit quietly when you are present. Do not worry they will know you when the final results come and wonder who this girl is with highest marks.

You have a notion my darling that you are more comfortable with male friends than female friends. This notion comes from the base of patriarchy which encourages us to shun the company of women and embrace the company of men. Please think about this. The girl you like now as a classmate will be there in your life as a friend to count on forever. The boys who made you feel like they are your best friends are hardly there now. The happiness you feel sitting in the University canteen with your theatre group members (young men) is not just because they are your friends alone, you are enjoying being out  in  the  open - drinking  many cups of Tea, discussing poems, sharing your opinions as an adult and for being respected for that. You feel empowered and you do  not  have the feminist vocabulary of it  yet.

You feel drawn towards a man who is older than you and somehow feel like you need your parents and siblings to know this as well as endorse it. This also comes from the base of patriarchy my dearest. I ask you to explore who he is as a person more than worry about endorsements which might eventually lead to marriage. It is fine if he touches you with your consent but if (or should I say when) he touches when you do not want it, please slap him. You should not feel ashamed because it is what patriarchy tells you to. I can assure you that you will spread your wings wide and fly high.

You are experimenting with writing poems and secretly maintaining a notebook. Go ahead and fill it. Show it to friends and family. Do not feel shy when some are showcases of physical awakening of desire. It is natural and you need not feel shy as it comes from patriarchy too.

You are a young woman now and your experiences shape me. Take care of me for you my darling.

Strength of a woman

I was feeling all Sylvia plathish and acting wistful like Meena Kumari a bit and spent the afternoon listening to what my mother wrote about her friends and her take on 'strength of a woman'.

Best friend number 1:
She was 8 months younger to my mother and was married to a good catch at that time - A professional working in Bombay, he was handsome and city slick. When the boy came to see her friend (let us call her S) she was made to wear a pink 'city' saree which his sister got with her and her hair style was changed. She was 'approved' and got married. For some years there were stories of S in Bombay, S in Gauhati, S in Patna and the exciting life she was in. She had 3 children by then. At that point of time, my mother was intimated that S was hospitalised due to nervous breakdown and has become totally numb - no emotions, no movement and no interest in any thing. Later on when she visited her, she was better and told my mother that there was nothing to worry. She is moving back to her hometown with kids as the husband is changing cities frequently. This is a plan for children's education. But, her eyes were vacant and hollow. My mother came to know through her father that, S's husband was promiscuous and had married another woman and when confronted, had told S that 'she is not womanly' enough.
I am a childhood friend to her kids and she was a gorgeous woman in a classical sense (big eyes, long straight nose and the works)She never told anybody what happened with her marriage, she worked really hard to bring her kids up, lived most modestly through out her life and died with the secret inside at a young age.

Best friend number 2:
She was my mothers friend from childhood and they loved climbing trees and temple towers together. She was married off at an appropriate age to a respectable family with stable economic status. Years went by without much change and she hit her 40s. My mother heard from some body that her husband had remarried. She was horrified and did not know how to ask her friend. But her friend when they met shared her story thus; "My husband is at fault in this situation, the other woman is young, unmarried and a beautiful woman.Because of my husband, she was thrown out of her house and she lost respect in the village, where will that poor girl go for the fault that both were responsible for? so I told my husband to marry her and bring her home." As a twist in the story, that other woman gave birth to a daughter and died. Mom's friend brought her up as her own and now both of them live together.

Strength to abide by patriarchy and strength to cloak the struggles of the self under patriarchy ..... never the less strength of women then, now and forever...

Unsung Heroines

Parvathi:

I always felt proud that Thikkavva (Mad granny) was there during my birth. I have heard so many disjointed stories about her, regaling in how mad she was, she was this and that... What I came to know over the years make me feel like I am digging into the past of a radical feminist. She was far ahead of her times ..

She was my grandfather's sister (mother's father). Her story as I know through my mother ...
She was born at seven months after 3 still births,…She was rolled in cotton, placed amidst Castor leaves and was fed through cotton swabs soaked in her mother's milk. This went on till she gained weight and seemed like a human baby. She was 14 when she was married off to Grama Purohit of Alampur Taluk. He was a rich man with 250 acres of land. In her days of glory, it is said that she had different jewelery for different days of the week (Yedu vaaraala sommu) and her hair was adorned with golden leaves that could be fastened to the length of the plait. When she gave birth to her first child, her husband ordered lorry loads of flowers for decoration of the house. Sadly none of her two off springs survived.

She became a widow when she was 20. Husband succumbed to 'medicine less illness'. By the time her parents got the news of the tragedy and went there, her head was already sheared, she was wearing red Saree covering her bald head. Her mother in law who was the picture of greed took hold of all the jewelery and showed some relative as the adopted son and tried to get all the property.

My grandfather entered the scene, had a fair idea of the law and registered a case on behalf of her. Warangal court gave decision in her favour and she got all her property over the years.

My grandfather suggested that she adopt a boy and he will be her support in her old age as well as he can take care of the property as he grows up. He volunteered to take care of the land till then.
She was a well read woman for her times and was not a believer of traditions. She was against adoption for the sake of security and asked my grandfather to maintain the property for her. As this thought clashed with his value system, he was adamant that she adopt and convinced her some how for that.

She would have been any other forgotten woman if she had followed what was expected out of her, content while rearing her boy, being of assistance in all the ceremonies in the near and far relative circles, blending in the background, being the last to eat in auspicious occasions...

Instead.....
She decided to venture out of the safe heaven of her Street (Which is till today called 'The -------caste Street) and into the Pataan geri full of muslims, into SC colony, wherever she went people were stunned and welcomed her with awe. She started going there and started talking to the men,women and children. She spoke to them about sending their children to school, counselled pregnant women to go to hospitals, scolded drunk men. They revered her presence.
She woke up at the wee hours of the morning to make a huge flask full of coffee, carried it to the Govt. hospital general ward, where the poor relatives of patients from far off places used to be. She was the friendly localite with a smile on her face, lending friendly ear to their woes and serving them hot coffee. Her presence was a balm for many souls.

Everybody thought if she is doing these outrageous things, then surely she is mad! She got the prefix to her name 'Mad' at this period and she knew it. There was a huge dam construction project taken up by the Govt. which would have submerged the town. Govt. offered resettlement lands and monetary benefits. My grandfather decided to fight against Govt. as the town is a historically important place with ancient temples and Scriptures. He was doing signature campaigns, strikes and applying for stay order in court etc.

She started making up catchy songs about the horrors of losing the town and how the lives are going to be affected. She walked through out the town and nearby villages singing. If people showed interest, then spoke about what is going to happen, generated lot of interest and support for the anti project efforts.
She never minced her words and was periodically angry at my grandfather for making her adopt. Some say instead she wished to be remarried.

When I was born, she came to be with my mother and help. Once my father remarked how come this dish tastes like this? And she told him, this is the only way I know to cook, if you want it better, you can cook yourself. My mom says only for my birth, my father took a long leave of absence from his work. I wonder why :-)

I remember her smell of Vibuthi and Camphor. Though she is not supposed to touch anybody till her bed time, she never hesitated to touch and kiss us.

She died when she was 75…..


Kamala:

She was the daughter of RajaVaidya of Gadwal province. She was born during the British Raj. She was an exceptional beauty with a hint of a blue in her eyes. People always turned their heads to look at her. She was married off when she was 8 years old. She had not attained menarchy so was still at her parents house and in a year she was told that her husband died and she is a widow now. She was 9.

Relatives started asking her parents to send her for ceremonies and functions. She came to Alampur on a visit to her uncle's house. She stayed on helping them. The sight of a waifish beauty in her teens carrying huge pots of water from the river became familiar in the street.

Ramakrishna was one of the idealistic freedom fighter who was stationed at Alampur to help settle his sister's property dispute. He used to wake up at 4 in the morning and used to do Yoga in the Thungabadra river bed. He always wondered about this girl who fetched water endlessly in such huge pots.

She always observed this man who did strange Aasanas so early in the morning.

One day, she was walking home with a pot of water, a horse driven carriage comes and stands next to her, a stranger climbs out and asks her “Do you know Ramakrishna?” She says yes I have seen him and I know about him. The stranger tells her, “Ramakrishna sent us to tell you that he wishes to marry you”, Kamala is all flustered and does not know what to say, and the stranger continues “he wishes to marry you TODAY, so if you are in agreement then you come with us in the carriage, if not he completely understands and will never trouble you again”.
She stood there for how long and thought about what all I don't know......
She went in the carriage and married the intriguing man on that very day!

Oh by the way she is my grandmother... I wouldn't be here writing this if she did not go in that carriage that day :-)

This is how it started decades ago ..

Wonderland: (1994)

My wonderland was Grandma’s Kitchen,

So many shiny utensils,

Various stoves,

The scent of strong coffee,

Delicious things cooking continuously,

It was so alive!!

She was like a witch,

Desperate on preparing her

Priced Concoction…

Mother’s kitchen is more

Organised and tidy,

Cooks fried rice and channa batura,

Takes time and watches,

Santa Barbara in between

Cooker whistles

Seems happy but sometimes appears

Like an exhausted Goddess,

I am sure my own wonderland

Would be different

With efficient gas burners,

Oven, grinder, food processor,

Time saving recipes and

A man to share the burden,

But, on hearing it,

Why is the witch laughing and

The goddess amused??