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Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Gender sensitivity and Bhuvi

Bhuvi is my 6 year old niece. She introduced a new game of 'make believe grinding'. We were sitting on the bed and we dutifully did the motion of grinding for a while (traditional Indian way where the right hand makes a big circle on the ground and with left hand grains are put into the small slot). I tried to talk to her and this conversation followed.

Me: Bhuviamma what are you grinding?
(I was playing my childhood game of 'acting like adults')

Bhuvi: What are YOU grinding?

(obviously she had not played this game before)

Me: I am grinding for Idli
(After I said this, I became aware of the gendered conversation I was building where women were sitting and doing all the work etc. etc. and I asked her kicking myself inwardly)

Me: What are you grinding?

Bhuvi: She took a pause and I thought 'oh no she is going to say Dosa now'.
After the pause, she said ....

'I am grinding WORMS'

Whew the damage was not done :-)

Monday, July 21, 2008

Perspectives... are they changeable like shirts..

I have often heard people say that 'some thing is some thing when seen in some perspective'....
I know this can become potentially boring rhetoric but recently I am caught in this dilemma. I gave my resignation letter. And of course I had my valid reasons from 'my perspective'. There is a process of renegotiation happening right now and things are put to me in a 'different perspective', so what happens to mine now? what happens to the management's? If there are no new perspectives emerging then this is a win lose situation. Do I want to do that? NO I wont.
So ultimately do we mean 'opinion' when we are saying 'perspective'? Opinion is subjective and demands the person to own it, perspective puts it in a broader and general universe, but ultimately what is it ...

Monday, June 16, 2008

Naanna will always be my Naanna

So many things happened between my last post and now. I lost my Naanna ....
I dont want to write anecdotes about him and I dont want him to become a story ..
I miss the smell of snuff on Chinnu's ears when I kiss it ...
I miss the rough stubbly cheek I kissed often ...

Thursday, August 9, 2007

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 :-)

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

How much is enough?

Dont we all know and agree to all these sayings?

1. Money does not buy happiness
2. You can never buy happiness with money
3. Money is the root of all evil
...........................................

So what are we being conditioned to?
Money is also one of the moral taboos. Let us switch the word money with sex and see...

1. Sex does not buy/give happiness
2. You can never buy/get happiness with sex
3. Sex is the root of all evil

.........................................
Now can we see all our parents nodding in agreement !!

This I am thinking, after being in the development sector for a little over than half a decade....
Why do I feel like giving an explanation for asking for a raise?

We the so called 'modern people' say sex is the most misunderstood thing and advocate sexuality workshops for all and sundry to really understand and express it. Yep our parents are not liking it but...

Why does money become a taboo?
You want it then you are a mercenary
If you dont want it , then you are not settled, you are idealistic and your head is in the cloud!

We were in Andhra in a community. Then we had the luxury of living in a place surrounded by hills and showered by stars in the night. Great community dinners around campfire were regular features of life. Each month, we bought stuff like Hurricane lanterns - 2 (1 for kitchen, 1 for living room), mosquito net (for warding off dropping scorpions and snakes) 1 powerful torch - for going and coming back from the common loo with life inside the body....

Our dream break was to go to a city and watch TV like crazy:-D
We were happy as happy can be!
Though we were paid pittance in comparison to cities, we were the highly paid couple according to the local norms !
It did not take away the fun having a leftist, beedi smoking, rebel for a bozz who forgot my name often in the presence of his wife!

What am I rambling about?

We definitely have moralistic views about money...
And I am trying to condition myself out of this view....











Tuesday, June 26, 2007

our siren'dhri

Malli means,

  1. The meow that sounds like a siren - When pouncing on our legs for milk in the morning and when running out of her fav shelf to greet us in the evening,
  2. Colourful fur ball on the kitchen mat,
  3. Four gentle paws sneaking on top of my tummy in the night,
  4. A question: How can such a tiny tummy hold so many loads of shit?
  5. A noise inside the laundry box
  6. Paper balls a go flying
  7. A Toe grabber
  8. Sorry figure sitting and waiting on the compund wall
  9. Death of everything that moves
  10. Massage under the neck
  11. Wardrobe doors are always open
  12. Cat haters are tranformed
  13. A leap,a jump and a flash of tail
  14. Purrrrrrrrrrrr
  15. Noiseless meow and touchless embrace,

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

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??

Home is where the tongue fits ….


We were in Anantapur District for almost two years. Memories of bright and harshly sunny days come immediately to my mind.
The other pictures are of people bubbling with wit and a song on their lips.
People taking pride in their stoicism with respect to harsh living conditions and CHILLIES chillies and more chillies. I remember Rebecca sharp from Thackeray’s Vanity Fair. She thinks chillies are something which really taste how they sound ‘chilling to the mouth’… and eats a handful and sees the stars!!
One needs to go through an unwritten and an untold secret ritual before really establishing themselves as friends. You are served a highly spicy dish and your reactions are observed. The amount of ease and discomfort is evaluated. Did you shed a pint of tears or had half a liter of water running out of your nose, or did you disappear behind the cloud of smoke coming out of your ears or were you unperturbed and asked for more reveals your status with them. The initial reactions involving various organs going on RED ALERT will bring on a smirk and you will be cast as this eternal softie who lacks the strength and vigour to survive and if you ask for more, you are immediately one of the gang and you will get back thumping welcome to the inner society. You get to hear choicest cuss words, incredible stories about people who vanished from this earth after attempting to take the test and all the torrid details of everything you might not want to know….
I am writing this obviously because I belong to the exclusive inner society. I can never forget the day when I went with one of the fellows to document a Hill watchers committee meeting on one of the hills near Roddam. It was unlike any other meeting I had attended so far. There were seven scrawny windblown wiry men in their mid thirties reviewing their monthly activities. How many kilometers each was covering, how many saplings each had to water, status of each sapling – alive, dead and reasons, along with the animals harming the plants in the night. Strategies for reduction of damage caused by animals, and protection of saplings were discussed along with the new activity in preparation for summer – Firebreaks to protect the greenery from accidental fires was discussed. After the meeting, we stayed back to enjoy the view and the fellow ‘chiller’ takes me to see an incredibly shady tree and pulls out a pot kept well hidden in the shades. It was full of tender toddy turning alcoholic by the minute…. We sat there enjoying the fragrant and smooth elixir. .. Feeling each drop of toddy uniting us with the universal spirit and enlightening us about the meaning of life…
Now that the secret is out, if at all you pass by this region, you know why you were treated the way you were treated…
CHILL out and BELONG

Monday, June 4, 2007

What is this blogging business

This is such a pressure to write ...
Why should the first post has to be of the booker prize quality?

Just thoght I would start writing something again and now it feels like vainly exposing my diary to public !!

Ok
The deed is done and hope there will be something new and interesting in the coming days in this blog...