The voluntary deaf and dumb generation of the 21st century.

I am sure that almost everyone can relate to this blog post, just don’t let the title throw you off.

I was walking back home from the bus stop, today afternoon, when I saw two trucks standing on the opposite sides of the road, leaving very narrow road space for any vehicle to pass through. I was walking back home with my flatmate, and I just made a comment about the road situation saying, “Look at these idiots, they've parked right opposite each other and now that bus cannot pass.”

But this, very general, casual comment, fell upon deaf ears. Why?

She had her pink earphones on, with music in her ears.

A very common sight these days, among the youth, is earphones in their ears and eyes on their smartphones. Either browsing through their Instagram selfies, stalking on Facebook, or exercising their fingers on WhatsApp, the youth today, if I may say so, is all about looking down. 

Looking down on their phones, cut off, completely from the events or the music in their surroundings.

It’s not about us frantically scrolling on our smartphones, with our fancy apps, talking to 50 people at once, but not building a relationship with even one, ignoring the noise outside and tapping our feet to the music in our ears, it’s about how we've created an illusionary world around us, like a virtual bubble, and for anything outside of that bubble, we are deaf and dumb, voluntarily.  We are choosing to be deaf and dumb, instead of using our gifted senses to make sense and be aware of what’s happening around us.

I don’t blame when new comers join a new college or a new school, and claim that it’s difficult to make new friends. Hell yeah, it’s difficult. Everyone is bloody busy gawking at their smartphones, so dumb as to even say a Hey, or pass a smile. They have the same music playing in their ears over and over again, resulting in them being deaf to almost everything and anything that goes around them.

I mean I get it, I’m bored waiting for the bus, I plug in my iPod and I listen, but while crossing the road or walking alone, don’t be so ignorant to the world, which is not as hunky dory as a Taylor Swift song may express. Look around you, there are vehicles speeding, people crossing, robbers, muggers, rapists, all around us, each time of the day, so for once, just for your own safety, use those senses to look up and around, let them see the world, than just your LCD screens.

I am very much a part of the same generation that is being talked about here. I do have an iPod that I plug in while travelling in the bus or metro, I am an active Instagram and WhatsApp user, and I do own a broken smartphone. But when my smartphone broke and stopped working except for when it’s charging, I moved to an old, simple, Nokia handset, and after a few days of exercising the natural instinct of flipping my phone to check my notifications and then looking at my Nokia handset and realising that oh! This isn't a smartphone, I came to a conclusion, that I don’t really need one. My old Nokia handset performs the necessary functions of calling, receiving calls, text messaging and music just as any other smartphone. Yes it doesn't support WhatsApp, and I miss it, but I didn't die without it either. I am not on Facebook, and not 24*7 active on WhatsApp, so a lot of times, people ask me, how do I stay connected with friends? How do I get updates on classes or how do I stay socially active?

Here’s the answer. I deleted my Facebook account in 2012 January, I was in class 11, I had deactivated it during my exams, and then when I found peace and eternal bliss from the daily gossip in school about, who liked who’s picture, or who commented what? How many times did someone change their status, or who did they put up their latest profile picture with, when I discovered a world beyond all this, I went ahead and deleted my account forever. I moved outside of the virtual world bubble.

It’s been 3 years since I deleted my account, and I don’t have a single complaint. I agree that I’m unable to stay in touch with a lot of people, but I would rather talk and maintain relationships with just 10 people that I know will help me out in a state of need, than hundreds of those who are only there to comment, ‘Awwww’ on your profile picture one day and the next, say, ‘Hina who?’

I have a theory about real friends and relationships that you should care about. During my semester end examinations and a month after that, I switched to my Nokia phone completely and stopped using the smartphone, to avoid the continuous notification distraction. I was inactive on my WhatsApp for almost 40-50 days.

Texting someone and talking to them for hours together is easy when it’s free, but as soon as you have to spend a few bucks to get in touch and talk to a person, it pinches and you avoid it. But in those 40-50 days, I realised that the person who takes the pain of spending those few bucks to message you or call you, to find out where you've been and how you are, since your last seen on WhatsApp was about a month ago, that is the person you should care about, because she/he is the one who will cross oceans if need be, to help you when you need them. And of course there’s always my favourite, Email. It’s free, more private and a lot more exciting. Almost all my friends have my email id and they know that, that is the one space where they can always get in touch with me and I’ll reply back instantly. I check my email once or twice in a day, I have managed to keep in touch with my middle school, high school and college friends just fine. I believe that if there’s someone who really wants to get in touch with you, they’ll find a way, because there’s always a door open, if Facebook is closed.

So why are we choosing to be in an illusionary world, where pretence is the attitude of everything and everyone? We all choose filters before uploading a selfie on Instagram, then what is so great about a person looking so bright? Do we really care if someone has put up, ‘So Bored’ as their Facebook status? I agree that social networking sites are a great way to express your opinions, share your work or stay in touch with friends and have fun. But do we really need to be that dependent on these sites, that we start acting deaf and dumb towards the real world? Everyone raises their voice against injustice by forwarding messages on WhatsApp or sharing it on Facebook, but how many of us actually step out and voice in forms of active protests or gatherings? How many times have we heard in the news that a group of youngsters got together to spread awareness about any issue? It’s all going on in the virtual space, but that’s not how the world works or how we live our lives. No matter how fancy our cars are in our Facebook pictures, we still need to drive on potholes on the road, but you'll just shout out two abuses and move on. No matter how bold enough you are, to carry off that short LBD on your Instagram, we still live in a world where women are objectified. How many times except for captioning your pictures with quotes regarding feminism or anything along those lines, have we actually gathered with our peers and done something to spread awareness or discuss each other’s sexual assault experiences?

By just sharing a picture expressing your anger or condolences towards the recent rape victim, you don’t become an active part of society fighting this evil. You are still looking down while doing that. You really need to look up, really up above to be able to see the same sky, the same sun, the same moon, the same stars that all of us share, even though we are so distinctly different.

I’m not even going to mention about how those days are gone when you would find a person reading in the bus, sitting in the library to pass time between two lectures or  just simply hanging out with friends, because the definition of ‘hanging out’ has changed to friends sitting together, gawking at their smartphones and showing the other person the new girl in town with her new cute boyfriend who changed her relationship status on Facebook. When I look at groups of friends like that, I just feel plain sad. Sad for them, for me, for all of us, that we've come to a point where the battery life of a phone matters more than its functions, where people’s relationship statuses on Facebook matter more than building your own, where forwarding long WhatsApp messages matters more than educating yourself with a novel, where people’s fake smiling selfies matter more than laughing with your own friends. It’s just really sad.

And the worst part, the mass media, which is considered to be the major source of spreading information and awareness is never going to talk about this concern among our generation, because this pretence, virtual bubble works just fine and in favour of them. Why wouldn't they want people using their apps 24*7, talking about it, listening to it all the time? The song by Britney Spears  fits in perfectly for them, they want ‘More’, and we are actually mentally just too dumb to realise how low we’re stooping. It just saddens me and I hope someday, like the bell curve, this attitude towards reality and the virtual world which is at it's peak right now, will descend, and we can go back to being a generation which is smart, intellectual, curious, and a good listener.

I really, really hope.

A Woman for a Woman

‘The loneliest woman in the world, is the woman without a close woman friend’- Toni Morrison

This blog post was inspired by a very awakening incident that I had today. Nothing unusual about my day really, just the same old routine that I was accustomed to, waiting at the bus stop near my college, getting on the bus, asserting my right to sit anywhere I want, and not just the reserved seats for women, getting off the bus and walking back home, thinking about whether to go for an easy-junk way for lunch, or the hard working healthy option, in my case, eggs and cucumber sandwich. 

While my habitual thought process was responding to the hungry growling in my stomach, I heard a lady behind me yell, ‘Watch out! He’s coming towards you!’

I turned to find a middle aged man, swaying left and right, yes drunk out of his cerebrum, carrying a stick, wearing faded, torn clothes, approaching me with some idea that was definitely put out of his brains, when the lady aggressively walked up to him, and said, ‘I saw what you did! To the other girl as well! I've been noticing you for quite some time now!’ As a successful attempt at scaring away the pervert, the woman went on saying, ‘You wait right here! I’ll call the police!’ Then she turned to me and said, ‘This pervert has bothered two girls till now and he was now aiming you!’ I turned to look at the man walk away and said, ‘He’s totally drunk.’ She looked at me with an expression that made me feel like an idiot and think about what I had just said.

 She said, ‘So what? He’s drunk so he has the right to touch a girl’s ass? Drunk is no excuse.’ She walked up to another man and asked for help saying, ‘Excuse me, bhaisahab, that man is touching and harassing girls’, she turned to few others, with the idea of getting the pervert beaten up.

The first man that she spoke to turned to look at the pervert sway and mumble away in his own delusional world, then he turned to the lady and said, ‘Let it go. He’s drunk and he’s anyways leaving’, and the man walked off.

A few others turned to look at him, but no one did anything about it. The lady walked back to me and said, ‘There’s no police officer also here, the police station is far, otherwise I wouldn't have left this guy alone! And these so called men, it’s not their daughter or sister getting harassed right? Why the hell would they care of it’s just some random woman on the street asking for some help? Huh! I mean that pervert right in front of my eyes harassed two girls and those two also just giggled, and walked off scared, should have straight off slapped him right across his face!’

I just stood there, listening, admiring this woman, who may not have slapped him or done anything major, hero like, but standing in the middle of the road, addressing to all those people who chose to ignore what happened, spoke for a woman. She wasn't the one who got harassed or who’s butt got pinched by a drunk pervert, but one of her own did, and she was one of those very few, who didn't hesitate to make and raise her voice about it.

It’s true what Toni Morrison says, ‘The loneliest woman in the world, is the woman without a close woman friend’. Only this woman wasn't close to me in an emotional way, but she was close to me in the way that all women are close to all other women of the world. We’re all Women.

In a world where people may play witness to an incident, but few come forward to do something about it. In world where gender studies is still central to women and violence and discrimination against women, it is only the woman, who can be a woman’s best friend.

Because a woman is born in a society and in a world, where their position is still not shoulder to shoulder with a man, and hence, where a man refuses to help or make a difference, it is the woman that needs to step up and be the light for another woman, because in the end, we’re all the same, a human first, but unfortunately, divided into man and woman, which has made all the difference in who gets paid more and who gets raped.

This incident taught me three things. First, streets are not all safe even if it’s 2 in the afternoon, and you can’t be thinking about lunch, because there is someone out there, drunk, thinking about harassing you. So, lesson? Don’t think. But watch, all around.

Second, you are not crazy if you’re helping and you’re not crazy if you’re raising your voice about something wrong that is happening around you. I didn't find the woman who made a noise about the drunk pervert crazy, instead I hold her higher than the Mt. Everest in my mind, and I respect her for what she did. I didn’t know about the pervert who was planning on approaching me from the back and pinching my butt, but this woman did, and she didn't hesitate to warn me about it and not just warn but scare the guy away so he knows he doesn't have the right to get drunk at 2 in the afternoon and loiter around touching girls' butts.

Third, is the title of this blog post. In the incident that happened, few men chose to ignore what was happening, and it was only the woman that came forward. I am not saying that men do not help, or that men do not come forward when it comes to a woman in crisis. But what I am trying to emphasize is no woman should be alone no matter what struggle be. Every woman’s story is different, and yet the same. To reach a stage and time, where women don’t have to struggle, women need to stand together and united. Women need to stand with and for women, for no fight can be fought and won alone.

So if you’re reading this, make sure that you be a woman, for another woman.

Cheers!

Zainab's Zainab

He plays at other's weddings. At weddings of someone's daughter, sister, brother, son, imagining the day when he would marry off his daughter. That is what he plays for, that is what he earns for, for that one last wish through her one last breath.
He still remembers the day when she gave birth to her, knowing that the family wished for a son, knowing that she had, but, given birth to another unwanted mother, but she trusted her husband's morals without any doubts. She knew he would do anything for their child, because soon that will be all that he has.
As she pushed out what had become of her fetus, she whispered in his ears, "Marry her off proudly. She is the only one". He knew then, she won't live any longer, she won't live to call out to her child, who was named  after her mother, Zainab, only it was this Zainab that he loved more. He felt strange how he could love her more than the Zainab that he was so passionate about, but after all, she did take after her mother.
He brought her up like a daughter and a son, playing the role of both, a mother and a father. He never stopped her from being who she wanted, a Qawwali singer, a doctor, a teacher, a soldier, he kept all doors open for her, not knowing what the future held for her, and leaving it up to her to paint her life, when she aspired to be an artist.
She wanted to change the world, she wanted to be and work with people, for the people. She enrolled herself in a rescue programme, went to the hills to help the landslide victims, and now she herself is a victim.
Thousands have been buried, missing, maybe dead, but her father knows nothing. He prays for her safe return, so he continues to play at the weddings, earn for that one last wish of His Zainab, to 'marry her off proudly', marry off the Zainab he loves so dearly.
And yet, no one knows whether a wedding awaits in her future, or whether she has already united with the Zainab, that she was named after.

I am an Eraser

I would never refer to myself as a murderer

I answered the police officer

Sitting there fearlessly

I’m sure he has nothing to worry,

Being, after all, a 'man' that he is

I thought all this to myself,

While he flipped through my criminal record,

Although, all I did was try to erase, what was wrong.

And that’s when my mind traced back,

To that life changing night.

I deliberately went out at 3 AM

To prove to myself

That I can be a woman and walk out

Maybe that was lame,

But I ‘took’ and I ‘gave’

a chance to my lane.

A chance to society and to the ‘man’

To tell me and prove me

That we’re at least heading towards a change.

Just when I was about to be proud of my lane,

Maybe pass a smile to all that had changed,

Tell the passers-by ‘I trust you’

And we’re all just the same,

I felt a pinch right at my waist

And turned to watch the man run in a haste.

I tried to ignore and run back home,

My heart pounding faster than ever,

Thoughts of my life changing forever,

Rushing through my brain.

But then,

I stopped and thought to myself

He’s not a man,

But just some muck in MY lane.

I walked and I thought,

I wish I could trust.

I jogged and I felt,

I want to trust.

I ran and I yelled,

‘I will trust, you muck!’

I could see the grin right on his face,

And I thought to myself, that’s sadly a pretty face.

Well, maybe I don’t have to bother with that.

I could aim for, what not me, but only his kind have.

And that’s when I kicked him right between his legs

I laughed as all the childhood kicks and punches

With my brother, came rushing back.

As he was getting lathered with whips and rods,

By people who had my back

I smiled to myself, and looked around,

 Turns out I CAN trust at last.

I told the people maybe we should cut him some slack

And give him a moment to relax

And let him witness this moment of all those people,

Filled with anguish, wanting to erase him.

Erase this muck from our society

Erase this one who is doomed,

And with pity, I let him go.

Sitting in front of me now, he filed a complaint

Poor little boy says, I attempted to murder him

But I tell the officer what it really was,

It was not an attempted murder,

But instead an attempted eraser.

An attempt at Erasing this muck who calls himself a man

An attempt at Erasing the reason why we can’t trust our own lane

An attempt at Erasing the reason why we can’t trust our fellow countrymen

An attempt at Erasing the reason, why I became an Eraser.

So here I am in front of you,

I would never refer to myself as a murderer

Because on that life changing night,

 I became an Eraser.

Although, this time I let you go,

But remember

If need be, I will erase you again,

And this time forever.

If you're a woman and if you're reading this, you're a Feminist.

This post was inspired by a question that Mr. Jerry Pinto (author of the award winning book Em and the Big Hoom, among many others), asked during one of our enrichment sessions, wherein we have guest speakers from the media industry talking to mass media students about what the industry is like, what career options do they have etc. Mr. Jerry Pinto, a fine gentleman, highly knowledgeable, and let me add, a bit intimidating, was talking, among many issues, about women's rights and feminism. He asked, 'How many of you are feminists?'. A plain simple, raise of hands question. Surprisingly, in a class of around 80 girls, and to top that, 80 mass media students, of one of the finest girl's colleges in India, we just had about less than half hands raised. This less than half of the classroom filled with young, aspiring media professionals claimed they were feminists. I was one of them too.
What struck me was not how this less than half of the class is confident and bold enough to raise their hands and claim to be feminists, but the more than half who, sitting in a classroom, acquiring knowledge, moving on from the traditional, subordinating roles of women, stepping out, travelling in Mumbai locals, great distances to become educated young professionals and make something of themselves, said that they were, indeed, NOT feminists.
Ha. Non-sens. Conneries*

Who is a feminist? What is feminism?
Since Google/Wikipedia, have become our most reliable sources of information these days. I will define Feminism and Feminist, as defined by Wikipedia/Google.
If you Google, Definition Feminism, this is what pops up: the advocacy of women's rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.
Next if you Google, Who is a Feminist?, this is what pops up: a person who supports feminism.
Now if you observe and try to understand it in simpler terms, it basically boils down to, equality for all, be it man or a woman and in all spheres, be it political, social or economic etc.
A feminist is a person who believes in equality of rights and opportunities for both, men and women, and the concept of this equality for men and women, is Feminism, in very simple terms.

So, let me justify my reason for shock, when more than half of the classroom didn't raise their hands to Mr. Pinto's question.

The fact that these women, were sitting in the classroom, listening to a professional talk about issues, educating themselves, choosing, to gain the same or maybe a better quality of education as the other men in colleges, than sit at home and perform household chores.
The fact that they were exercising their right to raise their hands or not.
The fact that they were exercising their right to have opinions, ideas, their own set of beliefs and values, so they can be independent individuals with independent identities.
 Wearing what they want, any colour, not obligated to wear the clothes that would act as markers of their sex or gender.
What is all this?

It is these women, who say they are not feminists, indulging in feminism. They are participating in activities that were anciently not allowed or meant for them. Women were restricted to the household, suppressed and denied participation in male dominated activities.

As Sherry B. Ortner has pointed out in her, magnificent research paper titled, Is female to male as nature is to culture?**  women are perceived as being closer to nature due to their impressive physical ability to give birth to perishable humans and hence contribute to the continuity of species, and men are considered closer to culture and held responsible for creation of life long technologies, intelligence etc.
She states that because of the lactation process in women, a baby naturally tends to be closer to the mother and hence the mother is also designated the job of grooming and nursing the child, till it comes of age after which the father takes the responsibility of teaching the tasks and making the child capable of being a part of the contributors to culture (only in  he case of male child, a female child is taught what the role of a woman should be, i.e. household chores and preparing to bear a child and cater to her husbands' needs, and thus begins the vicious cycle). So what we learn is that, due to a woman's biological ability, in ancient times, men were the one who used to step out and perform the so called 'tough', 'intelligent' tasks, while women stayed indoors. I won't go into the great details that she has mentioned in her paper, i have attached the link at the end for your perusal.

Coming back to the present, what we need to remember is that it took a long time and a lot of struggles, revolutions and sacrifices by women and feminist groups in the bygone centuries that we have arrived at this stage and time, where we can exercise our right to NOT call ourselves feminists, to be able  know what it means, to be able to freely leave after the class for a smoke, to have an all girl's college among all the other colleges under a governmental university, meaning that the constitution of our country recognises feminism and equality for men and women.

So i ask those more than half students that i shared the classroom with during Mr. Pinto's enriching session, why do u say you are not feminists, when you are sitting here, enriching and educating yourselves so that you can be equally capable as any other man that you may face in your professional, competitive world?
Why do you say you are not feminists, when you are clearly choosing to not raise your hands and enjoy a world of choice, unlike the era that women of the bygone centuries have faced, where they would dream of nothing, but a world where they could have a choice?
Why do you say you are not feminists, when you are sitting here, becoming aware of issues relating to your sex/gender?

And most of all, why are you in a girl's college, if you are not a feminist? Why are you sitting in classrooms of a professional educational institution, the education of which is aimed at making you independent, empowered women, in a male dominated, patriarchal society?

And why do you say you are not feminists, when you are not feminists? Meaning Why practice your right to raise your voice and have an opinion, when you are a woman who doesn't believe in standing tall, shoulder to shoulder with a man?

So this is what i believe in, if you are a woman and if you smile while doing something, you are a feminist, because you ARE doing something for yourself, as a woman, and not just what you may be told to do.

Very well explained in the book, Full Frontal Feminism by Jessica Valenti, a lot of us confuse feminism with extreme hatred towards opposite sex, and practicing extreme forms of liberty, but what these people overlook, is the little things that have maybe become almost non existential NOW, but they were at some point, a spark of a revolution, that has successfully led us here to a time, where i can write this blog post, and express my views on feminism, and leave it open, not anonymously, but very much with my identity, with no fear, for the world to read. But, there is still a lot to achieve on the road to complete equality and feminism, and Jessica Valenti has done exactly that in her book. She has highlighted and discussed issues that women of the 21st Century are fighting for and a lot of us need to join in. Ranging from the issue of a 'girl just wanting to have fun' to 'contraception debates', she has covered it all. Stereotypes attached to feminists, to how she is a happily married woman, her book is to feminists what An Imperial Affliction was to Hazel Grace in John Green's Fault in Our Stars, also a movie. I am not going to summarise the book for you, because i believe every woman should read it, at least once in her life, because it tells you why, as a woman, feminism matters, and why you, as a feminist, matter.

So if you think, that you being a woman, are not a feminist, and if you are continuing to read this line, then i'm sorry my fellow woman, but the bitter truth for you is that, you ARE a feminist, you're reading this just as any other person (male/female) in this world, and exercising the most basic principle of feminism.

So congratulations, you have just unambiguously proved that you are a feminist!
Welcome on board, my lady! :)


* 'bullshit' in french 
**(You can read the whole research paper here if you  like: http://www.radicalanthropologygroup.org/old/class_text_049.pdf)

A birthday wish for a Woman- My Mother

Happy birthday to you woman!
Sparkle of the family you come from
Strength of the family that you make
From the day that you were born to today you've grown
And as you go ahead to cut your cake
Make a wish, for once, not for anyone else
But You.
Thank your stars, for once, not for anything else
But You.
For today is the day that you came into this world.
Today is the day that you became You.
Today is the day you became One in a million.
Today is the day you became a reason,
For many to smile and be proud of.
Today is the day that you mattered the most
For not just your loved ones but all the women and a lot more.
So, go ahead and blow out that candle,
and make a wish and thank your stars
For making you, just who you are.
For if it wasn't for you, dear woman
Many lives that you filled with love
Many people that you gave hope
Many smiles that you brought upon,
the faces of the low,
They all wouldn't be if it wasn't for You.
You exist, You live, You smile,
For a lot more than just you.
So wish yourself and look forward to another year of YOU!
Happy birthday to you woman!
 Happy birthday Mamma!

19 October 2014

A Soldier's Missus

Every time that her man in the green uniform is to return, it is a day of joy for her.

Her mirror becomes her best friend, with whom she giggles, while getting dressed, excitedly putting glitter on her face.

Through her living room’s net curtains, she peeks every now and then, eagerly waiting to give that glass of cold water to her tired, sweaty and bearded husband.

Waiting, proudly, for her man, who is to return after winning back the honour of his country, fighting at the border front.

She waits and waits, and soon it’s sunset and there is still no visible sign of him.

She turns to her best friend, the mirror, reflecting, how the glitter on her face has faded.

Thoughts of accidents that might have occurred, take over her mind. 

She braces herself with a strong heart attitude, now ready to face a news of any kind.

The ticking of the clock becomes a challenge, a challenge to pass time.

Just when she is ready to reason with herself and take on the role of a widow, the knock at the door takes her by surprise.

A surprise she was expecting hitherto, but had given up on.

As she opened the door to feel the pleasure of being a soldier’s missus again;

 her day of joy, returned.