Saturday, February 02, 2013

An Overdue Blog Post

My last post was in October 2012, and I've been asked time and again by loved ones as to what exactly was the point of making a promise to write at least 3 times a month, if I just can't keep my promise. Valid question, I reply. And profuse apologies to your my dear reader for not having invaded your thoughts (with your permission, of course!) for over three months now.  Yes, I had a chance to bore you with the usual New Year Resolution list (with impossible to keep resolutions!) and with almost the whole nation lighting candles in the memory of a soldier called Nirbhaya, I could have seized the moment and written another feminist specked blog post. I chose not to.

Not because I didnt have anything to say (Hell! THAT's impossible!) and not because I did not want to discuss the topic, but simply because I felt mentally weary. Weary of being a part of a hypocritic nation that worships Goddesses and which has 100's of mythological stories about 'Sthree Shakthi' but one which does not feel that an ordinary woman is worth fighting for. Weary of the age old debate of Men vs Women; why a man is entitled to everything life and society can offer and exactly why a woman isn't. Weary of the simple fact that it takes ordinary citizens to hold vigils, light candles and to march in unison just to send a message to the government that it's time it sits up and takes notice. Weary of the nagging 6th sense telling me that Nirbhaya was going to be the headlines for maybe a month, till the next scam came along. And yes, that is just what happened. Weary, just knowing that I may not have anyone to actually protect me should anything happen to me and that yes, it makes sense to be tough enough to fight my own battles. Weary, because rape/abuse/assault is a traumatic enough experience without the added humiliation we subject every woman who is brave enough to open her mouth and to fight to. In a simple sentence- I stayed away from writing anything about that brave girl because I had nothing to add, I had nothing new to say, no radical opinion to offer and all I could do was sit in front of this laptop and hang my head in sadness.

Today, I have tears thinking about how one of the main accused is going to walk away scot-free because he is a 'minor'. Yes, he was adult enough to rape, torture and strip a woman of her clothes, but the confusion with regard to his age is his saving grace. And the others have all pleaded not guilty to the charges as well. Where is her story going to end? I don't know but I hope for the sake of her soul, that this country will give her the justice she rightfully deserves.

I liked a banner I saw once on the news- ' Don't tell us what to wear. Teach your son to be a gentleman.' As a mother to a 4 year old, who will someday become a man in his own right, teaching him the importance of showing respect to women is one of the first lessons I have begun teaching him. Someday, I would be proud if he has the guts to stand up for a girl, to do what was right irrespective of what is considered' cool' or 'uncool' by his generation. And as my mom says- 'Being a parent is a life-long process. It never really ends.' She should know. She's been an awesome one for the past 30 years.


Tuesday, October 02, 2012

With my thinking cap on.

I turned 30 on September 12. And, unlike all other birthdays where I have this genetic habit of announcing my D-day to the world, this time all I wanted to do was pull the blanket over my head and lie still with my eyes shut.

Why? Age is just a number and 30 is but just another year. There will be a 31, a 32, a 40, a 50, and who knows how many more. It's just that I feel overwhelmed by those two digits '3' and '0' that I can't help feeling that half my life is over and I really don't have anything much to show for it.

On one hand, I can now strike ' Being a mother by 30' off my list. But, ' Having my own place' hasn't happened as yet, considering I'm still living with my parents and sister. Neither has ' Have a dog by 30' although I do have two Fisher birds who are forever thinking of ways to escape from their cage. Little 007's that these two are. I also have not managed to do anything much career wise, but I can also strike ' Impress the world with my writing by 30' off my list [ side-note: if not the world per-se, atleast a few clients sitting in America;-)]. And I've also done ' Get atleast one poetry book printed by 30.' Plus, ' Have a decent library by 30' because I must admit that my library is very very decent and does justice to my love for literature and books that the world usually does not read !

What else? ' Successfully lose more weight by 30' is still a project that will probably reach its successful conclusion by the time I'm 6 feet under. And so what if I dont shed kilos by then, according to science I will lose 24 grams anyways, even if I'm lying absolutely still. [ In your face, all you sweaty stinky gym addicts]. mmmmmmm, what else?? ' Travel the world with a back-pack' by 30' is yet to happen, although I can honestly say that I have traveled to quite a few cities with a diaper-bag.

I need something; a list to give me some more perspective on life for the next 10 years and I hereby resolve that I will by age 40:

- Learn Spanish and Italian. And impress both sets of natives with my outstanding pronunciation and other articulate gestures! Viva La Espagnol and L'Italie!!

- Go through my French books periodically. Because after all I was the 1999-2002 University topper in the language with a wonderful score of 98%.

- Travel. With or without my backpack. But definitely with my kids who I hope will inherit their mother's sense of adventure.

-  Become an eco-warrior and make efforts to save water. Planet more trees and pick up garbage.

- To write more poetry. Because it was through the poetic word that I took my baby steps in the world of writing itself. And one should never forget where one came from.

- By 40, I hope that I would have learnt the art of mastering my emotions in a much more dignified manner.

- Learn. Learn more. Learn some more. Because knowledge is always waiting for someone to pick her up.


I think it's a fair list and hopefully I will be back in another 10 years' time to tick off all these off my list and to make a new one. As for my birthday, my 4 year old who is just learning to write, wrote the letters H and P on a white paper and said ' Happy Birthday mama' and kissed me tightly on my cheek. Now when you wake up to an angel's kiss in the morning, can it really it a bad day?

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Love Happens. And is rightfully blind.

' The Green Room' is a book that will arrive at your favourite book-store soon. I have a feeling that the people who do end up spending money to buy the book will either be wannabe fashionistas, those who are keen to learn more about the fashion industry or those who are a fan of the author himself- Wendell Rodricks.

What if I told you that this book is probably one of the best love stories of our times, would you grab it then? Probably. What if I told you that the love story in question was that of Wendell Rodricks and Jerome Marrell, his partner of 30 years? Did I just hear you say you're not interested in love stories about gay people? Well, you're not alone.

The first time I heard the word 'gay' must have been when I was in school. But even back then, some adult warning prevented me from freely using this adjective  in school essays and in general conversation as well. I would never tell people I was gay, instead I would tell them that I was 'happy'. It's amazing how even as a child, you can form a prejudice about something, a word or about someone without fully understanding why. Years later, when I became a teenager, of course the very thought of being around gay or even slightly effeminate people was torture. 'I just don't like gay people' I would announce like as if anybody cared. But why was it that I did not like them was something I never bothered to reflect upon.

Till I realised with a pang that Elton John, one of my favourite musicians was gay. So was Ellen Degeneres, who I think has such an infectious smile and just sprays warmth and laughter wherever she goes. So was Neil Patrick Harris who plays the ever righteous Barney Stilson. Jodie Foster. Alan Cumming. Darren Hayes who gave the group Savage Garden some beautiful numbers. Ian McKellen, Adam Lambert (yes I was hoping he would win American Idol) and even Ricky Martin. Dare I forget George Michael, whose songs I grew up listening to. And the list goes on.

Yes, quite a few writers have made it to the list as well. Personalities like Oscar Wilde, E.M Forster and Samuel Butler are all rumoured to have been gay. But unless a person is strong enough to stand up in front of society and admit he or she is gay, we will never know for sure. These days, of course, admitting one's sexual preferences earns the admiration of a small number of people besides simultaneously earning the rejection of others too.

And then I sat down to understand why such a prejudice had stuck in my head for so long, without any reason at all. It had, of course, much to do with the general attitude towards gays within my family and friends circle, as well as a generous helping of brainwashing from general society itself. It's taken me years honestly to get over a fear that wasn't justified in the first place and a prejudice which should never have been born at all.

I've always wondered why society doesn't open its eyes a little more and let people who don't have the society approved sexual preference, in peace. I mean, we all admire so many gay people for their work but mention the word 'gay' and eyebrows are lifted within seconds. On the other hand, thanks to the inability of so many families to accept that their children are 'gay' and aren't faking it, many of these people get married to members of the opposite sex and have a marriage that is oh-so convenient from a society point of view, but disastrous for the two people involved. I remember reading books on AIDS, gay people, books that attempted to understand why some people are gay and some aren't, when I was in college. One of the best books that I came across was by Dr Verghese ' My Own Country' where readers get a first-hand experience of what it feels like to have a loved one die of AIDS. I remember reading that kids as young as 5 knew that something wasn't right with them, because they always felt an attraction towards older boys and not to other girls the same age. Society may say that whether you are gay, hetero or bisexual is a conscious choice that you make. But I think otherwise. Some may say I'm right and most will say I'm wrong.

I think that in a world where true love is getting rarer by the day, that Wendell and his partner have a beautiful relationship that should ideally be an example to people everywhere. Besides two men living and loving each other, theirs is a partnership which proves that love need not be confined to one's skin colour or even origin. For Wendell is Indian and Jerome is French. And I hope that for the sake of a new generation which I believe will grow to be more tolerant and respectful to people irrespective of who they are and where they are from, that 'The Green Room' becomes a classic love story on par with Romeo & Juliet. Because very few people are blessed to be touched by true love herself.


Sunday, September 09, 2012

Mary Kom Packs a Punch!

So, the Facebook Detox Diet was going on in full swing till today. I cheated and allowed myself to log in just to check if there were any new mails or friend requests. And I was right! 2 new mails and a request from an old college pal awaited me, besides birthday reminders of 2 dear friends. But I didn't wait to wish anybody ( I know very mean of me) and all I did was to glance over 4 posts to see if I had missed anything. And it's the same old news- more wedding pics, more celebration pics, more I -dont-know-these-are-up-here-for-the-world-to-see pics and useless updates. For instance, one of the people on my list mentions a single word as his status update- YESS. Now what am I supposed to make of that?

So, I was grinning. Doesn't look like anybody missed my not being there on FB and I realised with a pang of shame that I now suddenly have so much more time on my hands for other things. Like writing this blog post for instance. So, I'm back on the diet and really happy that I don't have any other parameters to compare anything about or in my life to. And going by the sweet encouraging feedback on that one blog post, I was so happy to find that I wasn't the only one who felt this way. I used to think my mom preferred to remain outdated in all things techno, but I think she had a wise point which I completely missed 2 years back!

Anyways. So this blog post title is about Mary Kom and so I'm going to swing back to the current hot flavour of India. I've never been one for cricket ( yes I dared to say that!) and I've always wondered about what it must feel like to be an athlete competing in one of the many other sports that most of us don't care about. There's always been a problem of getting funds, sponsors and yes, even big-time cash. How happy I was to know that the Olympics placed people I had never even heard of before(my ignorance, nothing else!) directly in the spotlight, and about high- time too. For a change, the drums beating at the airports and the crowds were thronging not to see one of their dear cricket gods, but the newly crowned Olympic winners. How encouraging to see article after article being written on them in newspapers and the general love of the public which was showered on them.

Mary Kom. She's my new heroine in so many ways. But besides proving that married women with kids don't need to be written off as being useless and ' in their prime', I admire the way she has handled everything with so much of grace. This new found adulation, all the publicity, yes even the hoards of sponsors who are now willing to shell out lakhs for her! What strikes me as unusual and also marks a change in the way at least a part of society thinks is that it is her husband who has backed her up every step of the way, irrespective of the hardships. I've heard that ' Behind every successful man is a woman' but Mary and her husband, Onler have re-written that age old adage. He married her when she was a celeb in her own right and encouraged her to push the boundaries a little bit more each time. To me, he is a man and a rare diamond at that. The kind that every woman should pray her daughter gets for a husband. For I truly don't know, how many men out there in our patriarchal society are willing to play a comparatively smaller role when placed next to their wives and can still hold their own with so much of confidence. It may seem insignificant, but there's a lot to be said about that.

Because every-time the camera bulbs flash, Onler smiles and lets his wife take the lead. Because whenever she has to practice for a match, he is there to take care of the kids. And when she needs that little bit of love and encouragement, he is there right by her side again. What a man! And I've had the good fortune of knowing a few good men who know the difference between being subservient and letting their woman shine. So, if you're married to one such gem, go to him, give him a tight hug and whisper a secret ' I love you'. It always wonders between my parents even now ;-)

Oh, and one more thing to add about North Eastern society. They seem to have a much broader viewpoint about what a woman can and can't achieve on her own. Girls are brought up in such a way so that they believe that they are on par with men in the society. What a man can do, a woman can too. Now, if only that modern and society changing thought could trickle downwards to the south and spread to other parts of India. I can only imagine the number of women whose lives would be all the more enriched by that one change in thinking. And that's why, I've decided that as I bring up my son, I want him to understand that a woman is a powerhouse on her own who deserves all the respect and love in the world. I may not be able to change the way a nation thinks, but surely I can impact the way he treats my daughter-in-law someday.

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

The Facebook Detox Diet

Is there such a thing as the Facebook detox diet? No, there isn't and the term is merely a figment of my imagination. Although, everything about the diet is probably more realistic than fictional. Let me explain.

I can still remember the day I created an account on Facebook. No, I dont recall the exact day, date or time but I do remember my thoughts when filling in the usual standard questions. At that time I was a big Orkut fan and although everybody began to shift their loyalties to FB, I was still a stickler for the original social networking site. I also had a hi 5 account which I deleted because I honestly forgot to use it as well as a MySpace account, which again I used to forget to even check. However, I signed up for FB 'just in case'. I could never have predicted at that time just how big a control FB would have on my life later. And maybe for plenty of wrong reasons.

As you can imagine, I ended up deleting my Orkut account too because eventually like most things in life, Orkut gave in to the competition and tried too hard to become 'something else'. Gone was the clean interface and easy to read font which were now replaced with a number of customization features. FB with its boring, trademark white and blue screen seemed to have a much bigger magnetic appeal. And what a coincidence in a way, because the same faces that smiled at me from my Orkut friends list were the ones which added to my friends list on Facebook as well.

The good thing about Facebook is that you get to stay aware of what's happening in everybody's life without actually having been there in the first place. I've attended I dont know how many baptisms of new borns, shed a tear or two at weddings I never physically attended, said a prayer for those who had lost loved ones and can even claim to have visited a few foreign lands because of the pictures that were diligently posted online. What began as a celebration of the little events that make up life, according to me soon became a way to prove to others that their life was so very happy. Every little sneeze, every little booze party, every small makeover was being put up for the whole world to see. Although there have been times when I was glad that I was being allowed to celebrate with the person concerned, there were plenty of other times when I wished I had told the person upfront that too much info isn't any good anywhere.

And then came the disastrous 'like' option. To add to everybody's misery, now people could also like other people's opinions and even comment on them. The other day, somebody's dog died and there were actually 4 people who 'liked' the comment. Really? Another day a mum put up an update about her kid who was down with flu. And what have you? Another 5 people 'liked' that update too. I can now believe incidents of people suffering from FB mania or of checking their account some two hundred times a day.

For me, personally I realised that Facebook had begin to affect me in a few other ways that I never thought was harmful at first. Seeing pretty couples pose, beautiful babies being born, happy families on their nth vacation gave me the feeling that my life just wasn't Facebook worthy or even 'me' worthy. I began to compare myself in many ways to over a dozen friends who I felt had 'everything'. And it left me feeling irritated. Miserable. Angry and most importantly, ungrateful for all the blessings I never asked for but received anyway.

Like all problems, getting down to the root cause was the prime challenge. I had become so addicted to knowing what was happening in everybody else's life that I had stopped paying attention to what was happening in mine. And I just had to comment or 'like' something, no matter how silly it actually was. This may not be your story and hopefully you will never be affected the way I was, but I know that years of FB finally began rubbing me the wrong way. And hence the Facebook Detox Diet.

I decided that it was high time I got up and started appreciating what I already had and was in severe danger of losing. I may not have the picture perfect family. The shiny new car with pumped up speakers. Or amazing pics near the Tower of Pisa to show off. But as of now, it's still good to be in my shoes. And I'd like to feel that bit of reality a bit more closer before one of life's surprises knocks me in the face again.

I know that many of my friends love to hear about some funny incident which I have recounted here or some other humourous narrative that has them in splits. The humour hasn't died. But if this was truly to be Sanjana's blog, then I felt that it was also important to jot down my chain of thoughts and whatever started the fire in the first place. And yes, this is one diet that I wholly approve of!