Why Game of Thrones is Awesome

So with the new season of Game of Thrones underway and ever since I decided to start reading the books (1 and 2 DONE. Woop woop), I began to wonder what it is about this show (and the books) that makes it so universally loved. I mean people who found Harry Potter hard to understand watch the show (erm, how?). Inexplicable as it may seem, here’s a list (I seem to have a list fixation) as to possible reasons why.

1. People are sick of sitcoms and so am I. SPOILER ALERT. The final reveal of the Mother in HIMYM has left legions of fans crying into their pillows (my sympathies; if I watched an otherwise mediocre show which in a cheap but clever act of gimmickry waited 8 seasons to show the owner of an umbrella, I’d cry too). I don’t wanna watch pseudo-situational pseudo-comedies any more, especially when they question my intelligence as a viewer by giving me cues to laugh. Stop telling me what to do! That wasn’t funny at all and the ‘hahahahs’ in the background aren’t gonna convince me otherwise.
2. After listening to legions of whiny women crying about their relationships and how ‘Men are the Devil’, I am finally happy that a show portrays women to be strong, conniving and beautiful all at the same time. Case in point Daenerys and Cersei. These women are powerful, they make their own rules and basically kick some butt.
3. It has blood. It has gore. It has a lot of sex. And boobs. BOOBS. Hit the jackpot there because these elements just appeal to the vile and voyeuristic qualities we all have (or is it just me?). I liken it to the scene of an accident. Everyone knows it’s going to be unpleasant but a crowd of people will gather to watch anyway. But with that said, the show itself is quite sophisticated. The subtle nuances in the script (and the actors’ expressions) make it such a joy to watch. The humour is dark, and the scenes are intense. It grabs your attention right away.
   

   Ooooh, errr.

4. They found an incredible cast. I don’t think anyone can play Tyrion better than Peter Dinklage can. Having read the book, all the actors fit the characters like a glove. Pretty much exactly the way I imagined them to be. I’m glad they didn’t make it into a movie straight, because the books are ornately detailed and to give justice to the books, every book requires at LEAST a season.
5. George R. R. Martin (genius this man) doesn’t hesitate to kill off major characters. None of your favourite characters is safe. They could have their heads on a pike in any episode. That kind of makes you want to keep watching.
   
6. Finally, the elements of Westeros are beautifully depicted. They don’t dumb it down and insult your intelligence. You can expect a shocker in every episode. It’s a WIN all around.

How to survive a Quarter Life Crisis

A quarter life crisis is a scarily real thing generally known to afflict college seniors about to graduate. Unceremoniously thrown out of a comfortable collegiate existence where waking up for class and passing a test were my biggest problems, I am now being chewed up by the real world and everything that entails. You need a job. You need to pay rent. The five minute walk to class becomes an hours commute. The list of twenty people you could call on any given Friday night to chill whittles down to a meager two or three. Recovering from a night of debauchery takes much longer than it used to.

What do you want to do with the rest of your life? Where do you wanna go from here? Why is the yummiest food always so fattening? I see friends getting married and making that lifelong commitment. I can’t even decide what I want for lunch. I’m sitting here writing a blog while a 16 year old develops a new cure for cancer. Definitely puts everything in perspective, doesn’t it? There are people travelling the world, not worrying about a steady income but paying their way as they go. I can imagine the reaction I’d get if I even tried. “Arrey, how could you send your only daughter like that? Those firangs na, very dangerous. And that too she’s a girl! What is the need.. anyway in two years we’ll find her a nice boy to marry.”

Substitute football with travelling. And chapatis with dosas.

Okay, so in my parents’ defense and particularly my moms considering it’s Mother’s Day and all (love you Ma) they have never said anything along those lines. Thank freakin God. But I’m sure an entire line of third cousins twice removed will have something to say about my life decisions. But I’m veering off topic. The main task at hand, what do you do about the quarter life crisis?

1. Don’t pay attention to what other people are doing with their lives. It’s easier said than done with constant reminders being thrown at you from every social networking site in existence (#PartyingInRioBitches, Close up: shaking hands with the President, @mycutiepiehubby love u sweetu!). Everyone has some point in life at which they peak and then plateau out. That peak could be at any given time. Yours could be around the corner, so you man up and make it HAPPEN. Don’t expect to sit around and have things happen to you. Ain’t gonna work.
   

   Or happen, either way Tim Gunn is happy.

2. Do what makes you happy. Be it travelling, programming, designing, being a wife, a mom. Whatever it is. You know YOLO and everything, so if you gotta do it once, do it right.
3. Everyone is in the same boat as you are. Sure, outwardly I might look like I have it all everything sorted out while I’m living my perfect little life. Not the case. Talk about it, to friends, to your parents. You’ll feel better and you might even get some bright ideas about where to go from here.
4. Meet some new people. Try to gain some new experiences. Get some fresh perspective. This doesn’t have to be camping out in the Sahara, it could be doing something you’ve never done like volunteering at an NGO, reading a book (yes, people haven’t) or learning how to ride a unicycle.
5. Have some goals but be flexible about it. You need to get from point A to point B. Work in that direction. The time it takes may vary, it might take incredible amounts of work but you’ll make it there eventually. Recognize your achievements and let them propel you forward. Also, don’t be so harsh on yourself. Assuming you’re under 25, you have the rest of your life left to do the things you want to do. It will happen in due time. If you’re older than that, well sorry to break it to you man its over. (I kid, I kid)
   

Preschool, British Accents and Work

Cutesy wutesy theme alert. What’s not to love about a bunch of adorable animals? Takes me right back to my preschool days. It’s kind of weird, one of the earliest memories I have is of my 4th (or was it 5th?) birthday at my preschool in Bangkok. I remember a slightly blurred montage of kids of various races (very United Nations like, erm it was an international school) singing “Happy Birthday Nee-keeh-tah” and as always, I kept making snarky comments bang in the middle of it. In a very British accent (again international school). About 7 or 8 years later, I found a scratchy old videotape that I put into the VCR and there it was, a live recording and a surprisingly accurate one at that. I couldn’t understand my 5 year old me’s accent. I was jealous of my 5 year old me’s accent. How can you say no to anything when asked in a British accent, tell me this.

My lady, would you do me the great honour of jumping into these shark infested waters? I seemed to have dropped my handkerchief. Why, YES of course.

Well, dreamy Brits aside.. work is starting to really feel like work. The ID card dangled around my neck is a noose. I need a breath of fresh air. I never really did understand why people would decide to work for a smaller organization, or even for a startup. Lesser pay, lesser benefits and no brand name right? But I really get it now, I do. I always wanted to be my own boss and hell, that was the plan like ten years down the line. Until then, work for a big company they said. What they didn’t say was that you’d be another drone in the assembly line.

Sure, you’ll have a few productive days that give you a glimmer of hope (what if it gets better..?) but soon you realize its denial (and delusional). Most days are boring at best. I’m pretty sure I spent most of my time blogging, reading blogs, Facebooking or repeatedly refreshing Gmail. Oh yeah I did the project they assigned to me too, it required about two weeks of work (for a five month project). I’m glad the five months are coming to an end, and I’m even happier that I didn’t give in to the temptation of continuing in this comfortable but totally uninspiring job. I need more. I don’t know how, when or where I’m going to find it. But I refuse to waste the youth of my life sitting in front of a desk, staring at the computer screen reading about exotic places in the world.

Work has gotta be doing something you love. We’ve heard people say it, but it hits right home when you’ve lived it. I want to learn something new everyday, I want to feel like I’m a part of a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts, I want to wake up everyday looking forward to the challenges that await me – not go because I absolutely HAVE to, or take as many days off as I can without a pay cut. So until then I’m going to find something I actually enjoy doing and try not to panic at my impending state of unemployment.

Ladies, Go Home

Until now I had mistakenly assumed that Hyderabad was far less conservative than its neighbours in the South and that women traditionally held positions of significance in their public and private lives. I returned to Hyderabad on my usual weekend sojourn only to find news that was a smack in the face of all development. If you haven’t read about it yet, then brace yourself before you attempt to read more. It will make you see vivid shades of red. The gist of it though, is a bunch of legal aged partygoers went to a pub for a farewell party being organized by their juniors. While they were leaving the premises, they were filmed by a TV channel against their wishes and repeated requests.

“The media persons were relentlessly chasing us, and even after getting into the cab, and hiding my face, they harassed me by pursuing with their cameras. They never let us explain what had happened before they arrived,” Sravanthi (name changed), a final year student of law said.

The versions of the story differ, but there was some kind of altercation between the media and the students. The next day, grainy footage of the girls appeared on major news channels, ‘fleeing’ the pub.

“On the morning of 12 April, news channels including TV9, Saakshi TV, Studio N and ABN Andhra Jyoti, aired a news story in which they claimed minor girls had created ruckus in an inebriated condition in Hyderabad.”

The pictures of the girls were blurred to suggest that the girls were topless and drunk. ‘Drunken ladies hulchul in Hyderabad’, ‘Special focus: Girls romance in hostels and rooms’, ‘Drunken women creates hungama.’ Gasp, women in a pub having a good time with a drink.

I bow my head down in shame. I’m a 21 year old girl. Yes I go to my fair share of parties. Does this make me morally loose and does this mean ‘Western culture’ has sucked out my soul? I don’t think so. But of course, regional television channels seem to think otherwise as they scrolled defamatory headlines over voyeuristic footage. I wonder what the main issue is here – drinking, women drinking or women drinking and protesting against unwanted filming. It seems that instead of moving forward we are regressing. The students in question have filed a case in court, a move which I applaud. I find this entire incident repugnant due to its sheer misrepresentation and bigotry against women. If it goes unquestioned, how many more injustices will be dealt out to the women of Hyderabad.

Sadly, it doesn’t stop here. The police seemed to have jumped on the moral bandwagon and have proceeded to cancel Ladies Nights in all the pubs of the city. This is to do what? Protect women (you will get raped if you are drunk)? Protect others from drunken women? But it seems even that wouldn’t suffice to curb the dented-painted women of the city, our policemen also set to motion the following rule.

“In an effort to discourage pub owners from attracting too many youngsters with offers like free drinks for women, Andhra Pradesh, one of the largest consumers of beer and cheap liquor in the country, has decided to ban the entry of women into clubs, pubs and bars after 10 pm.”

OH! So by 10 pm, we must go back to our kitchens and hang up our labels of being modern, free women along with all dignity and self-respect. And of course, wait for our men to come back from the pubs by 11 pm so we can welcome their arrival with a modest smile and eternal servitude. I see where this is going, and it isn’t a very good place.

Note: After I wrote the blog and the story was published, the Hyderabad CP and top excise officials told Firstpost that no such ban has been put in place yet. Emphasis on yet.

Sign the petition here (http://www.change.org/en-IN/petitions/victimization-harassment-and-defamation-by-local-news-media) and raise a hue and cry. This moral policing needs to stop.

References:

• http://www.firstpost.com/india/ban-on-women-drinking-in-pubs-after-10pm-andhra-authorities-deny-news-752199.html
• http://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/Hyderabad/nalsar-students-may-sue-tv-channels/article4611015.ece

Ultra Musings

Ultra. It’s been a mere 15 days since that mindblowingly amazing weekend and I still miss it. It was a three day whirlwind and I’m still trying to screw my head back on straight. Miami in itself is an exquisite city. Its true beauty however lies in the fact that it is unapologetically brash and vain. Masses of bronze unblemished skin, designer shades and debauchery somehow add to its enigma. The ocean is bluer, the cocktails are yummier and the people are hotter. All superlatives, and rightfully so. As for Ultra itself, well as much as I’d like to go into details of artists, stages and the sets – its all a blur of flashing lights, blaring bass and unbridled euphoria. No place for reminiscing here. I’d suggest Youtube videos for a suitable recap instead.

But what I will do instead is share some nuggets of wisdom I learned in my almost 5 days in the States (relevant to Miami, Ultra and life in general)

1. Ditch the clothing. Its March, its sunny and its Miami. Let it all hang free and soak in the sun. Even if you’re a 100 pound waif or a beached whale, no one cares.
2. Stay as close to the venue as possible. People will tell you to stay at South Beach because that’s where it all goes down. Don’t do it. Oh hell, the idea of partying all night on the beach every night after Ultra sounds tempting. But after 8 hours of raging when all you want to do is take a long shower and start feeling human again, distance matters. No more than a mile away from Bayfront Park.
3. Book those after parties sparingly. You might think you’ll have all the energy in the world, but you won’t. You’ll have to drag yourself like a drowning animal all the way to the shore, erm party. Not fun at all.
4. Be open minded. Don’t be the douche who rains all over everyone’s parade. Everyone is at Ultra to have fun, responsibly of course (we’re all adults here). Figure out your scene and what you’re comfortable with, whether its sticking to your friends and a glass of beer, or downing jägerbombs with random bros. We’re only young once, go figure.
5. Meet new people. Talk to them. Its a music festival, there’s like minded people everywhere. I’ve had scintillating conversations in a bar, in the elevator and in a taxi! Regardless of age, gender or race, we all have something in common. And that’s half the beauty of travelling anyway.
6. Plans don’t work the way they are supposed to. You can’t see all the acts at Ultra, you can’t see all the sights, you can’t get a tattoo and you might lose your passport. It happens. Silver linings, don’t forget.
7. You will be broke. No matter how wisely you spend, the money gets sucked into a blackhole somewhere. No amount of math can tell you where it went. Mysteries of the universe.
8. Go with an awesome bunch of people. There are only so many strangers you can chill with. Plus its nice to know someone’s got your back.
9. You are fucking lucky. Keep the memories and never forget that feeling of being alive and being able to experience something you only thought you could dream about every time you watched the Ultra 2012 after movie. Every time someone asks me, “How was Ultra?” all I can come up with is “It was awesome”. Honestly though, how do you sum up a million moments and intangible feelings into a few sentences? You just had to be there. Until then…

En route Miami

Photo Credit – Nilasha, but mostly Instagram

Day 1 – 14th March

I’m sitting here waiting for them to begin boarding this flight BA 276 to London, one step away from Miami. I got lucky and got upgraded to Club Class (what’s up with all the fancy names anyway, what’s wrong with calling it business class?), so I get to travel in style. It’s just the one flight though so I better wipe the smug smile off my face.

At some point in my illustrious travelling career though, I turned into a first class snob. I was patiently waiting behind the red line (it’s a RED line people) and I got cut off by 10 people before I decided to grow some balls. I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at this typical Indian Behaviour. Does that make me not Indian or an Indian who has simply travelled more than I should? Not that there is such a thing as too much travel.

I also hate babies. If I ever decide to have one, he/she better have a mute button because I cannot stand the crying. It pierces right through my skull. If you are ever getting on a transatlantic flight that is 8 hours long and you have a child, do the world a service and give the kid a tranquilizer! (Um, I know there are a million things wrong with that, but I have a severe need to lash out). At this point I’m beyond caring though. What I really want to do, is jump off the plane and scream “I’m in Miami bitch” in everyone’s face. I am a college senior on spring break, so excuse me if I’m anything but profound.

On the flight – Day ??? (damn time zones)

Club World Class. Fancaaay is the word I would use. The seat goes all the way back, calling it a seat is doing it a huge disservice. I’ve napped for a few hours in an effort to set my internal clock to Miami time. The breakfast on the flight was way better than what you’d for a grand in a hotel in Hyderabad. Finally my bacon craving has been satisfied. I’ve been watching this movie, Hope Springs. It’s not bad but you already know how it’s going to end before you even reach halfway. Meryl Streep is one hell of an actress though. And I don’t know what’s with the umpteen visits to the bathroom. Did I become diabetic in the last 24 hours? Anyway I’ve been drinking a lot of fluids trying to prepare for the marathon that Ultra is going to be. Please let the next flight go as pleasantly as this one. Amen.

London Airport: 1.37 pm local time

Got here in one piece, a very healthy comfortable piece in fact. Can’t believe I have another 10 hour flight to sit through though. I’m sure it’ll go faster, the anticipation usually helps. I’m hoping for some good company on the plane though, that would be fun. Man, there are so many Indians in here (sardarjis mainly) reinforcing all my DDLJ spurred stereotypes. Also a lot of young girls in tracks with some sports club insignia on them. Bend it like Beckham anyone? All that is left now is for me to find a homeless guy living in the airport a la The Terminal. Ok, must stop watching so many movies. I also want more boots, they look amazing, not to mention furry jackets.

Lots of white people but lots of Indians too. It’s been a while since I’ve travelled abroad on my own. Can’t wait to meet the buds in Miami. It’s awwnn like donkey kong.

Side Note: I sat next to the Swedish House Mafia guy, John Martin on the flight. He sang Save the World and Don’t You Worry Child for those not in the know-how. Thank god for 6 foot tall stubbled blonde shampoo commercial worthy hair Swedes. My 10 hour flight sped by.

You are the best

As I walk into my office, I see all the ladies looking more spectacular than usual in varying hues of pink. I’m confused for a while, and it’s only when I settle down for a nine hour session of socializing with my computer that I notice a yellow Post-it note stuck to the side of my cabin. “Every day, remind yourself that YOU are the best. Happy Women’s Day!” I smile at the gesture. Well, I’m not sure I’m ready to graduate from girl to woman quite yet, but I guess I’m getting there if not in maturity, then by age. While I’m tempted to point out the facetiousness of this commercially packaged day, that’s being milked to the nines by beauty salons and night clubs offering ‘special discounts for women’, I decide to take a deep breath and just bask in the glory. I absolutely love being a woman; there is no question about it. Excuse me as I succumb to all the female stereotypes out there, but I love the sheer variety of clothing options. I love my punishing stilettos. I love curling up with a mindless chick-lit novel and I love that I can throw a guy off with a smile. Of course, if you’re a guy who loves to do all these things, well more power to you Sire.

I am incredibly lucky to be born with the privilege of equality, or something close to it anyway. I have had every opportunity accessible to me, most of this thanks to my parents. I have been allowed to do things that I guess most boys’ wouldn’t have been able to do. I have been given the freedom to dream, and the means to fulfill those dreams. I realize that there are so many women in the country who are prisoners of their birth. Held by the shackles of poverty, discrimination and bias, what can a woman do? I hope that there will come a day when the distinction of being a man or a woman becomes irrelevant. The day when being a woman is not a disability that we have to fight all our lives, but a blessing.

Women have to be gender equal too! (Sorry bro)

In a move that drew a lot of raised eyebrows today, Finance Minister P. Chidambaram proposed the setting up of a special Public Sector Unit bank that would be run by and cater to, only women. The first thought that came to my mind (sorry, my mind has officially been numbed by the idiot box) was “What an idea, Sirji!” Sheer genius even, I would say considering the ongoing outrage against the shameful treatment of women in the country. What better way to soothe frayed nerves than a promise of ‘empowerment’ and ‘financial inclusion’.  

I did a bit of research (read Googled) about the existence of such banks in the world and I was quite surprised that this isn’t a new development. Women’s branches in the Middle East were born out of practical necessity (to protect women’s virtue of course) but, more recently, banks have opened women-only branches in east Africa, the Indian subcontinent, Mexico, Italy and Bulgaria. Apparently, it’s not just the Arab and Middle Eastern countries that enforce this gender based segregation. In 1964, The National Commercial Bank opened a women’s branch in Scotland where “it would take more than a ravishing smile to get an overdraft”, and the walls were panelled in a willow shade “toning delightfully with a seaweed green carpet.”

Now personally, I could see the benefits of such a bank. No longer will women have to deal with the misogyny of bank employees. Women are paid less than men, and it is much more difficult for female entrepreneurs to receive funding for their own ventures. Joan Indiana Rigdon, in her article “A Women Only Bank for America” cites many familiar examples of the double standards that women face today. It seems male bankers are more comfortable dealing with the sensible men of the household rather than the frivolous women.

There are of course, conflicting opinions. Noted economist Dr Surjit Bhalla chose to comment, “It’s the worst idea I have seen anywhere, and in any budget.  Why not establish an Islamic bank, SC Bank, ST Bank?” Personally, I think this comment is flawed. As of 2012, out of the 1.22 billion people in India, 591.4 million were women. And gender, unsurprisingly cuts across religion, caste and creed in both importance and number. If this all-women bank indeed functions as it supposed to, I think it would be a huge blessing. Providing capital to women entrepreneurs, funding social cooperatives, creating employment opportunities, allowing women especially from the smaller towns and villages to approach banks on their own and creating a sense of self-reliance and  purpose – all valiant goals.

So much of the success of this bank lies in its implementation, and that’s where the government and the country, usually fails. This announcement has already been wrought by screams of “Women have to be gender equal too!” and the like. All I have to say to that is, unless you’ve lived it, you can’t really say it. Sorry bro.

I guess Chanda Kochhar, who heads ICICI Bank put it very succinctly. “Most of the banks in India are run by women, but the proposed bank is for women. The focus seems to be to fund women entrepreneurs and give them encouragement. I don’t see anything wrong in that.” And honestly, neither do I.

References:
1.    http://www.ndtv.com/article/india/big-bank-budget-proposal-for-by-and-of-women-336524
2.    http://www.forbes.com/2010/06/10/women-only-banking-iran-bank-melli-forbes-woman-net-worth-financial-discrimination.html
3.    http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/dec/14/women-only-banks-middle-east

Gender-bias-ity

Much has been said about the ills that ail our country and rightfully so, especially now given that we have been privy to a barrage of horrifying crimes against women. I honestly believe that our problems stem from gender inequity, which forms such an inherent part of Indian society. The Justice Verma commission in its report “Amendments to Criminal Law” has acknowledged the failure of good governance, but more importantly has pointed out that ‘attitudinal changes to correct the aberration of gender bias’ have to be brought about. This in my opinion should be the point of focus. Laws can be written and laws can be enforced, but instead of merely attempting to find a cure for this disease that plagues us perhaps it is time we worked on eliminating the root cause of the sickness. Correcting the gender bias prevalent in society cannot be dependent on legal sanctions alone.

 “Woman is the companion of man, gifted with equal mental capacities. She has the right to participate in the minutest details in the activities of man, and she has an equal right of freedom and liberty with him. She is entitled to a supreme place in her own sphere of activity as man is in his. This ought to be the natural condition of things and not as a result only of learning to read and write. By sheer force of a vicious custom, even the most ignorant and worthless men have been enjoying a superiority over woman which they do not deserve and ought not to have. Many of our movements stop half way because of the condition of our women.” – Mahatma Gandhi

Men and women ought to be equal, and this should be how things naturally exist irrespective of the privileges of education or otherwise. Can a woman in India today, do as she wishes and if she did choose to do so, would she have the means to do these things? We have dug ourselves into such a deep hole over the years, digging ourselves out back into the light (pardon the cliché) is going to be a difficult task. It is a fact that women in India suffer every single day. An unwanted touch, a copped feel, a whispered slur, a brazen stare. We live in fear and discomfort. We seek the protection of company.

Education, we say is the answer. The unfortunate truth is that being literate does not create any change in mindset. In my personal experience, most eve-teasers skulking around on the roads and cruising in bikes are college students. These are young men, who most likely come from financially stable urban backgrounds. I wonder then, what can you point the finger at? Literacy is not the answer. The urban-rural divide doesn’t seem to feature as a cause and neither does economic status.

This form of education has to begin at home. A young child can only learn from his family and immediate surroundings. His father screaming at his mother after a long day at work, acceptable. His father hitting his mother, acceptable. His father pulling his sister out of school to get married, acceptable. Watching his mother submit to every one of her husband’s whims, acceptable. Watching his favourite actor’s stalk, chase and taunt their onscreen loves, acceptable. It is hardly surprising then that we turn out the way we do. We need to emphasize on equality right from the very beginning, or the vicious cycle will never cease. It starts at home and it needs to continue at school. Children need to be taught how to respect women, their personal space and the law. We need to introspect on how the popular culture we devour teaches young people how to objectify women.

So much of the blame really lies with ourselves. We accept the treatment meted out to us, and we choose to ignore it. Writer Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan put it in a way I think most young women can relate to.

When I was in high school, a popular local boy’s school had a fad with their car horns. Any time you heard these teenage boys, zipping across the city, they’d beep continuously, almost like a tune or a ditty: beep-beep-beep-beep-beeeeep-beep. It was a code, someone told me, laughing, but didn’t reveal the code till later. “Pakad, pakadke chod do.” I didn’t think the boys meant it, they were nice boys, my friends, and plus boys schools are dens of sexual deprivation, right? But then, later, I overheard a classmate in my co-ed school laughing about this “really cool” trick he pulled on weekends, going for a drive with a friend around M Block Market, slowing down when he saw a pretty girl and leaning out of the window, grabbing her breasts and driving away before she could react. The fact is, when the boys got to drive around in their cars, beeping, we were given notes on safety by our parents and our other girl friends. Rules of the rickshaw: never get in when there are two drivers. Rules of the teenage house party: if someone feels you up at a party, obviously it’s your fault, because you were drunk, and you mustn’t be a tease. We were very hard on each other. Girls regularly developed ‘reputations’. We never blamed the boys. It was always the outfit (so low cut!) the booze (she can’t control herself, ya!) the she-asked-for-it (well, she’s always hanging out with boys, anyway.) The boys spoke of it, if you asked, somewhat sheepishly and yet, with a certain amount of pride in their voices, and you’d have to be the Cool Girl, listening, nodding wisely, and thinking privately that you’d never be in a situation like that. We let them get away with it, and these were nice boys, boys who were educated and well brought up and probably don’t even think about that part of their lives anymore. Boys who socialized with girls, who had “rakhi-sisters” and yet.

And so it comes full circle. There is no Twelve-step Program for people recovering from gender-bias-ity. I wish there was.  

References: 

1. “Report of the Committee on Amendments to Criminal Law”, Justice J.S. Verma et al
2. “How Do We Stop Rapes? India Looks For Answers”, http://tehelka.com/delhi-gangrape-outraged-india-reacts/

Where do we go from here?

I’ve been taking more of a stand on things these days. I’m not sure exactly what my motivation is at the moment, but I think taking a stand, any stand for that matter is empowerment. Knowing that you’ve firmly placed your weight on an issue adds an extra dimension to it. Instead of watching from the sidelines, you now have a vested interest. And with this, you become so much more than the sum of your parts.

I have always been strongly opinionated, and when it comes down to it – intensely stubborn (the amount of cajoling it takes to make me deviate from a cast iron plan in my head, oh my). Lately my views seem to have taken a feminist bent. I find that every remotely sexist comment sets me off, and I feel that as a woman, I need to fight this fight. Honestly, I’m not even sure what being a “feminist” entails. Well, mostly I seem to hear the term used with all its negative connotations of loud, men bashing hustlers. But leaving meaningless prejudice aside, I looked up feminism on the Internet and this is what I found.

Feminism is a collection of movements and ideologies aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, and social rights for women. This includes seeking to establish equal opportunities for women in education and employment.

With India as my context, I think defining, establishing and defending women’s rights is so very important. In all fairness, I claim to have no solid knowledge of the situation in the country, just what I could glean from my surroundings and my experiences. We have always been a patriarchal society, and we still carry the burden of that baggage. Times have changed, but as a people we really haven’t. Countless years of suppression have left all of us, even ‘modern’ Indian women like me with that stigma. It’s almost ingrained into our DNA. Oh yes, we work and we may be the breadwinners in our families. But we still want to put a well cooked meal on the dinner table. We will still serve our husbands first and then sit down to eat ourselves. We will still take sole control of domestic affairs and be proud of that very fact. We will still think twice about smoking in public for the attention it would generate. Even if society doesn’t expect us to feel this way, we will. I’m not sure if this is a blessing or a curse. I’m really not.

The situation in India being as dire as it is today, I think we need more ‘feminists’, men and women both. I would also like to know, how do we go about changing the way our society is conditioned to think? You know, treating women as actual human beings if not equals and the rest of that jazz. I’m starting to think education has nothing to do with it really, and neither does class or social background. Domestic abuse is rampant in rich families, and ‘educated’ college students are cat-callers and lechers. I am seriously stumped. Someone, please enlighten me. Where do we even go from here?