So, the CM of Uttar Pradesh, the rape capital of India has dismissed the surge of crimes against women in her state as “Random Incidents”. Here’s the official quote,

“UP is a populous state and we consider such cases as random incidents. It will be wrong to say that such incidents reflect on the ability of the administration”

Very true, with over 199 million people, UP is the most Indian populous state, and the world’s most populous sub-national entity.

Out of these 199 million people, the approximate total number of women would be less than 94 million (now the sex ratio being skewed is a whole new blog post!).

Of these 94 million women, in the last 48 hours, only 6 have been raped – Ofcourse these are random incidents!

I found some statistics around such “random incidents” – mind you, these are only in one financial year and ofcourse include only registered cases. In 2007-08, the state recorded 21,215 cases of violence, including 2,066 cases of dowry death, 1,532 cases of rape, and 3,819 cases of kidnapping.

I have only one question to the authorities concerned – so how many more women and girls should be raped and harassed and killed before we can conclusively state that crime against women is a disease in endemic proportions in so many states of India, especially UP, and needs a coordinated administrative and judicial effort to control it?

Seriously, WTF!

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Before you ask, yes that is a picture from my wedding album. This particular ritual in the hindu marriage ceremony is known as “kanyadaan”, quite inadequately translated in English as “giving or rather gifting away of the daughter”.

The hindu vedic marriage rituals pays a lot of emphasis on this particular ceremony. It is supposed to be the highest sacrifice (maha daan); and therefore, it is believed that parents who have performed the “kanyadaan” for their daughter are relieved of all sins and attain heaven.

(Parents who have sons live longer, my brother jokes!)

What exactly the ceremony entails is that the father holds the hand of the bride, while the mother pours the holy water; the father then places his daughter’s hand in the hand of the groom, as the sacred verses are enchanted in the background.

(And so ladies and gentlemen, the official handover of the seat of power and the reigns of control from the dad to the husband happens!)

From my personal experience, I can tell you that even in fairly modern families where daughters are raised and respected as equals to sons, and the “kanyadaan” is more ceremonial for tradition-sake than actually meaning that the father will no longer have any right on the daughter (and the umbilical cord is forever cut), this is a very very emotional and somber affair during the wedding.

Even though at the back of my mind I knew I was doing this for ritual-sake only, the chants of the priests and the whole ambience – the water, the physical “giving away” - and then when I had to go and sit next to my husband instead of with “my” side of the family - and finally seeing my dad stifle his tears, I thought I’d burst with all the emotions brewing inside or just scream my head off and put a stop there and then!

(Fortunately, or unfortunately, the conformist that I am, none of that happened!)

God, why do weddings have to be so emotionally taxing and exhausting!

And that is precisely the point of this post. Why can’t culture and tradition adapt to the current times. Why go through the elaborate rituals when most of them make little practical sense in the world today, wherein girls are brought up to be as independent as their male counterparts and there is no real need for her to be “taken care of, provided and sheltered” by one man or the other!

C’mon, not that I obeyed my dad to the T before marriage that I need to now “obey” my husband instead. And just because I am married, doesn’t mean dad and mom will mean any less than what they have always meant!

If I am blessed with a daughter, I am not sure I will do this kind of an elaborate and dramatic "kanyadaan” at her wedding, not even for custom-sake. Would you?

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So there has been a lot to write home about the Royal Wedding, complete with the Disney fantasy like feel to the whole event. “Dreams do come true”. Oh well!

Of all the trillion articles and news items on the affair of the decade – ranging from the royal kiss to the ring that wouldn’t slide smooth, from the lovely bridal attire to the over-the-top head gears of the guests, and what not, I thought I should talk about this one: Kate 'will not obey'.

Following Diana’s royal ditch to the royal protocol, Kate decides to steer clear of vowing to “obey” Prince William (I hear he is a Duke now). Instead she pledges to “love, comfort, honor and keep” her husband. A very honest lady! Why promise what you are sure you will not do, even if it is only ceremonial!

While the old school of thought continues to defend the use of the word, “obey”, emphasizing that it is not meant as “subservient” or an excuse for domestic abuse, I’d say one should rather be safe than sorry!

This news piece reminded me of my wedding. Married following the hindu vedic rituals, during the many “mantras and slokas” (vedic chants in Sanskrit) the pandits (priests) were reciting and translating for the benefit of all, one distinct vow or rather instruction to me was that I should never do what my husband prohibits. To do anything I should seek my husband’s permission, even if I want to visit my parents etc.

While the close knit family and friends laughed through it, I looked up to Vish to assure both of us understood that this was only “ceremonial”, and well, not to be taken as the word of law. The indulgent smile from him saved the priests from an argument session, which I am sure nobody had the patience to deal with at 2 in the morning!

Though I absolutely believe in the institution of marriage, I often wonder what an MCP the person who wrote some of these rituals/vows must have been. The inherent assumption that men know better and will do better - And hence, the lesser mortals (read women) should bow their heads in subservience so that these demi-gods can lead us and make sense of our lives.

In this day and age, there continue to be women who live as puppets with their strings firmly held by the husbands. Inequality, domestic violence, verbal abuse – all continue to plague many marriages in many households in India.

We need people to come out in the open and acknowledge the wrong/injustice when they see it. So what if it is dictated by religion or religious texts. Religion is a path to God created by humans themselves – If we can’t change it for the better, who else can?

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My Feudal Lord is an autobiography of a woman that transcends the geographical, religious, political and societal context it is based in. Though it is the story of Tehmina Durrani, a member of the Pakistani elite society, set in the highly volatile political milieu of the 1970s, 80s, against the backdrop of a highly radical Islamic community – it is first and foremost the tale of a woman caught in a predominantly patriarchal world that is unfair to her because of her gender and makes her pay dearly for actions that she chooses of her free will.

Though being a Muslim does not help Tehmina’s inherent rebellious streak, her situation is exponentially compounded by her specific background – her rather complicated childhood and problematical relationship with her mother, her latent inferiority complexes, her need to prove her self as a lady befitting the highest echelons of the social pyramid, the tug of war between her hopeful heart and her strong mind, and the final straw – her abusive and traumatic marriage to Ghulam Mustafa Khar, the then Chief Minster and later Governor of Punjab, Pakistan.

Tehmina goes back and forth in time as she constructs the very painful narrative of the 13 years of her marriage in a feudal, woman-baiting society to none other than the Feudal Lord himself. Her silence breaking indictment of the curse that a woman’s life was in the post-colonial era in Pakistan is gruesome, bloody and highly graphical. A victim of domestic abuse – physical, financial, and emotional abuse, a victim of a repressive and racial social structure, a victim of the family need to “keep up” appearances for the sake of social stature, a victim of her own super ego that forces her to mould into the vile of the predominant social ethos, it is rather admiring that Tehmina finally gathers the courage to expose to the world the frailties of the veiled homes.

The book makes you shudder in disbelief at the schizophrenic Mustafa Khar – who is irrationally possessive, insanely aggressive and sick in his highly convenient interpretation of Islam to suit his whims and fancies. Your heart goes out to Tehmina as she tries time and again to break the shackles of marriage only to be each time placated for another chance, by Khar who would resort to every trick the male-dominated and oppressive community bestows him with – subtle manipulation, playing on her insecurities, blackmailing to kidnap her children and open threats of violence.

What is most endearing about Tehmina is that here is a woman against whom the worst profanities have been committed mostly in the name of Islam, yet she is not bitter against the religion. She embraces Islam understanding its true spirit and teachings. The subverted interpretation of the religion by fanatics for their own selfish interests has not disillusioned her. She has picked up the pieces of her life, learnt her lessons, and strives to work for the betterment of Muslim women. Now married to Shahbaz Sharif, brother of Nawaz Sharif, she has been reunited with her children whose custody she lost because of the divorce with Mustafa Khar.

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Inside The Kingdom: My Life in Saudi Arabia is the true story of a woman born in the western world to mixed parenthood and married to a Saudi Arabian hailing from none other than the much known Bin Laden family – this is a tale of the innocence of childhood, the defining moments of youth and love, the saga that is marriage, the pain that motherhood brings, the bitterness of dreams that go sour when faced with the recklessness of reality.

However, this is not simply one of the many hapless stories of broken marriages and international divorces that are tough on women – this is a narrative convoluted by the clash of religions, beliefs, and faiths – this is the life of Carmen Bin Ladin, sister-in-law of the world’s most dreaded terrorist.

Carmen is a Swiss national now residing in Geneva post her divorce with Yeslam Bin Ladin. Inside The Kingdom chronicles snapshots from Carmen’s life, in her words. She talks about her growing up years in Europe – her strained relationship with her Swiss father and her exotic vacations to her mom’s Persian home in Iran. She lovingly recalls how she fell in love with Yeslam - his commanding presence, his alluring roots, his belief in equality of partners in a relationship, his intelligence. Her fond memories of their time together in California, US and the big fat wedding in Saudi Arabia convince the readers of her assurance of a life of fulfilling love and empowering freedom.

Life is a bubble balanced on swords – and unfortunately, Carmen’s bubble broke. The oil boom in the Middle East in the mid 1970s compelled Yeslam to move back to Saudi Arabia in order to take advantage of all the money that was waiting to be made. And thus, started the long and arduous journey of Carmen – the black cloak or burqa, the thick veil, the walls within homes, the eyes that never meet, the suffocating shadows, the deafening silences, the blatant disregard for individualism, and finally the fervent and fanatic reverence of Islam that threatened to annihilate Carmen and her beautiful daughters.

The final straw to her 11-year marriage was the disintegration of her only pillar of strength – her husband, Yeslam. As his personal traits and attitude collided with the radical Islamism and complicated family politics, his weakness to stand by his wife and daughters against the established system came to the fore.

The book published in 2004 is Carmen’s attempt to distance herself form the “Bin Laden” name that had become a curse for her and her daughters in light of the 9/11 attacks in the US. She was compelled to come out in the open to state her severed ties with the family of 22 wives, 29 daughters and 25 sons – of which Osama Bin Laden was one.

Sadly, her struggle is not over. Though legally divorced in 2006 after a bitter long battle, Carmen still worries about her daughters’ well-being given Yeslam’s constant threats of abduction. Unfortunately, Yeslam holds a Swiss passport in order to keep in touch with his children.

This book is a must read for all of us who are so smug in the cobwebs of our everyday living, so entangled in our small worlds that we forget to thank god for our blessed lives, forget to cherish what we have, and forget to pray for others...

(The lives of women in Saudi Arabia remain deplorable even in today’s times – While modern amenities are making their way to the region, the people continue to steep deeper into the harshest form of Islam – that derived from the Bedouin practices. The power nexus that oil, money, dependence of the western world on Saudia Arabia, and the failure of milder forms of Islam as, for example, preached by the Shah of Iran is blood curdling. Jean Sasson has written a trilogy on the life of a Saudi princess – This is also a true account. You can read about it in my post here.)

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As I tried understanding the debates around the burqa especially in the French context here, I received many valid, well thought out, and legitimate replies – all in one way or the other against the “forced veiling”.

In a country like India, it is heartening to see educated people expressing their opinion, which is for humanity and moderation and balance. However, it is greatly disappointing to wake up to news that reads: Forced to wear burqa, teacher quits.

What is most shocking about this news is that the Students’ Union pressurized the university teacher!

What is happening to the supposedly educated youth in our country?

Why are young minds embracing religious fanaticism with such ardor?

Are they in search of a unique identity because they feel their individuality is threatened?

Has Indian politics created a whole generation of confused and misguided youngsters – rebels without any real causes?

I still remember my childhood days when religion and caste were only chapters we read in our Civics books. In school, I did not know which caste my classmates belonged to.

Through my growing up years, I had Sikh neighbors with whom I used to happily pile on for the Sunday langars at the Gurudwara; I had Muslim neighbors who were differentiated only because of the wonderful language they spoke – aap, bhai-jaan, abba-jaan – music to the ears; I had Christian neighbors who shared rich plum cakes on Christmas; and all of us together celebrated the “Hindu” festivals of Diwali and Holi!

Come the late 90s and early 2000s, as college beckoned, caste based reservations became the talk of the day. Quota seats – General seats – SC/ST – OBC – all alien terms began to invade my vocabulary.

I still remember the day I started filling out my entrance test forms - all of them asked the following disturbing questions:

Religion?

For the first time I was going to define my identity within a religious institution that had not meant much in my life so far.

Hindu, I wrote. In a fraction of a second, differences based on religion were established between neighbors.

And then the final blow that firmly established boundaries and partitions in once-innocent classrooms.

Select one of the following:

SC, ST, OBC, Others

I was baffled. I asked my dad, what I should fill in.

He said in a matter of fact tone, “Others”.

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I have been following the various feminist, political, and racial debates that the French proposal for ban on the Islamic full veil or hijab has fanned. Read the latest on it here.

My feelings, stance and opinion remain unsorted and confused. A lot of questions diffuse my attempts at any kind of understanding, and I share them here.

• Does Islam really mandate the wearing of a veil that covers the face in its entirety? Doesn’t the holy Quran refer to the hijab in its broader sense of modesty and not necessarily a physical piece of clothing to be worn? If it is modesty and social propriety, is a piece of cloth enough to ensure the same?

• Is the enforcement of the mandate of the full veil a fanatic religious measure to keep women entrapped in the dark shadows of illiteracy and ignorance - do the extremists actually believe that women need to be protected, or hidden, or maybe just put away?

• Is the proposal to ban the wearing of the full veil in France pro open-faced democracy, and in the interest of the security of the nation, and the feminist endeavor for greater rights and freedom for women?

• Is the problem with the veil that it covers the full faces and hence poses security threats? Have there been incidents of misuse of the veil by criminals?

• Is the proposed ban against the institution of secularism? Does it indicate religious intolerance and racial bias of the xenophobic “west”?

• Do Islamic women see the burqa or the hijab as a cultural identity that empowers them as unique individuals or thwarts their efforts at any kind of progress?

• Do Islamic women wear the veil out of coercion or of their own free will? Is their will free or conditioned?

• Is the hijab the only form of expressing religious belief? Why should only women carry the burden of religious identity?

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So what’s instigated me this time around?

An innocent early morning walk in the vain attempt to renew my New Year resolution of shedding some pounds off myself!

Okay, the details now. So once in a blue moon I usually end up at this park near our place in T Nagar, usually after days and days of gastronomic indulgences. It was around 6:45 in the morning and I was slogging it out on my 10th round of the small enclosure, when I hear this dismissive reproach, obviously aimed at me, “These girls wear just anything! What is happening these days?”

Imagine the gall of the guy!

As if getting up early morning was not irritating enough, I was totally riled up and turned around to give the man a befitting reply to shut him up.

As I looked back to zero down on my prey, my anger vanished.

Haa! Here is this oldie (and need I add baldie) in a veshti/dhoti (the muslin/cotton cloth men in India tie waist down) folded half, reaching inches above his knees, and that could give tennis skirts a complex (okay, a slight exaggeration) – with his wife who’s draped in a synthetic sari that clings to her body as she walks in the Chennai heat, her entire midrib and almost half the back exposed (as is for any woman wearing a sari, and apologies for the way I describe a sari, but am sure you agree) – commenting on a girl who’s wearing Bermudas that reach below the knees, a T shirt that covers her entirely and sock and shoes!!! (the girl is me, just in case you didn’t figure it out – I like being referred to as a “girl” still, but that’s besides the point).

So, I repeat, imagine the gall of the guy or rather, uncle!

This brings me to the larger debate around the societal coercions on a woman’s dressing, specifically in the Indian context. Though, I understand India is better off compared to countries like Iran where you could be whipped for wearing a mini skirt. Read about it here.

But we are no better. Even though our law does not allow corporal punishment for women not adhering to social norms, we, as a society, leave no stone unturned to ostracize a “modern” girl (who, in the Indian context, is any girl who decides to take her own decisions when it comes to her life and being: dressing, working, marriage etc.).

What I have heard so many times myself, and only on the basis of how a girl has dressed, are the following comments ranging from subtle disapprovals to grotesque character assassinations; “She is too modern, too forward (read characterless)”, “I am sure she has lots of boy friends”, “She seems a little loose”, “Her parents have not taught her our Indian culture”, “She will never get a good house (meaning after marriage, of course!)”.

The worst demeaning assault is when provocative dressing is used as a justification for sexual harassment. So many educated people, parents, teachers, politicians are guilty of this.

Back in college, we once had Kiran Bedi talk to us about Women and Safety, and she made a statement that we girls (I was in an all girls college – LSR, DU) should dress up “like men” – hide our femininity in the garb of loose male clothing. Obviously, this did not go down well with us and a major argument ensued.

While I advocate complete freedom of dressing for women, I also admit there are some of us who dress appropriately and some others who don’t.

Wearing hot pants for a puja may not be such a great idea after all, just like I don’t understand why models should parade in bikinis in a ballroom full of tuxedo-clad men during the Miss Universe contest, have the bikini round at a beach or at the pool side instead and ensure all present are dressed in a similar fashion.

I think I digress.

However, stating that a woman asked to be eve teased given what she was wearing is preposterous to say the least.

Are men beasts who cannot control their carnal lust the minute some flesh is exposed to them?

If I wear sleeveless I am available, and if I wrap myself in a burqa I am the epitome of chastity?

Who are we trying to fool here?

I can wear 6 yards of saris all my life and be morally corrupt and I can wear shorts all my life and still retain my integrity. Is it so difficult to believe this?

While eve teasing and other such forms of sexual harassment is a much greater subject than I attempt to talk about here, one thing that I can vouch for is that the way a girl dresses has nothing to do with whether she is eve teased or not. Girls are eve teased in saris, salwar kameezes, jeans, skirts, shorts, school uniforms and even in diapers!

What is so sexually enticing about babies in nappies and girls in frocks?

There is no rationalization for the perversion of harassers and rapists. They cannot be defended. Every woman and every sane man needs to raise their voices against such miscreants.

I have heard many “sympathetic” law makers say you cannot change mindsets over night. Yes, you cannot magically wish away the social structure that still treats women as objects of possession rather than active architects of the present and the future, but you can bloody well put them behind bars, hang them, castrate them in public for all that I care – Just one or two cases of rigorous and torturous punishment is all that India needs today. One or two examples set for all the bastards will instill the fear of death and legal wrath in each one.

Maybe this is not the only solution, but it sure is one of the most efficient and impacting, especially when it comes to at least controlling such cases.

I am dressed to kill … kill barriers, kill hearts, kill social bondages - not your morals, not the human soul in you.

(Addendum: And if I am not dressed as well as you would want me to, the least you can do is not pounce on me)

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There’s so much talk about importance of eco-friendliness in anything and everything – from decreasing carbon footprints to reduced use of plastic, controlling fuel emission to switching off all lights to mark the Earth Hour – that I sometimes feel optimistic, maybe we still can be salvaged – environmentally, that is.

However, and I regret the awful comparison, I strongly believe we are not doing enough to make this world a better place for women.

Hang on, no, I am not campaigning for the Women’s Reservation Bill – I do not trust the ideology behind reservations – Equal Opportunities - YES. Quota reservations – NO.

Reserving seats does not ensure deserving candidates; more women candidates in governing bodies does not necessarily translate into empowerment for all women. But, that is a whole new debate outside of what I have in mind today.

This article on Iceland’s highly successful endeavors in almost eliminating the sex industry in the Nordic country provides a heartening ray of hope. Ignore the dig at the probability of the prime minister being a lesbian. Sexual orientation has nothing to do with feminism, and we can discuss that later.

Unlike in a hypocritical country like ours, where women drinking in bars out of their own free will attract more protesters than young girls forced into prostitution, Iceland, as a nation, unites to stand up against commodification of women. Men finally get the first most important lesson in humanity: You buy your drink at the pub, not a woman.

It is outrageous, when the politicians in various countries try to argue on the benefits of legalizing the sex trade – This is sheer regression. Instead of working towards upliftment of women we are trying to justify institutionalization of derogation of women, making it a systemic part of the legal function. Why?

Retarded men and women defend it by making tall claims such as legalization would help reducing crimes such as rapes against women, many women treat this as a serious occupation and feed their families from it. Some even go the extent of stating that such a measure would help freeing men from their repressed frustrations. WTF!

Other WTF defenses include that prostitution has been a part of Indian culture – yeah right, so has bride burning, killing of the female infant, and other such atrocities against the so called “fairer and weaker” sex. So what do we do, legalize these as well?

Strip clubs, lap dance bars and red light areas make a lot of business sense – for the pimps and the middlemen – not for the “objects” that are put up on sale at such places.

Majority women are forced into prostitution by poverty-stricken families or heinous captors; they do not join the flesh trade for want of glamour, as many claim. These women are abused, physically and mentally tortured, not paid adequately, deprived of medical assistance – basically forced to live in the inferno of hell.

There is no hope of escape for generations together. These women are not the entrepreneurs they are made out to be in some countries – they are exploited to a degree that should put our entire civilization to shame.

Moreover, statistics claim that there is no correlation between legalizing prostitution and decrease in the crimes against women. In fact, most of these countries, such as The Netherlands, have seen a sharp spike in child prostitution post legalization of this form of “male violence”.

I really wonder when the world will awaken to the need to collectively and proactively work towards building women-friendly nations.

Why can’t we have Copenhagen summits like we did for the environment?

Why can’t world leaders come together and act together like they did for the economic crisis of 2008?

Why can’t more countries follow the Iceland example?

We have miles to go, and it pains me that try as much, I can’t even list the various forms of sexual exploitation alone that a woman is subjected to – child molestation, eve teasing, gang rapes, marital rapes, human trafficking, prostitution, sexual slavery, the list goes on.

Where is feminism, an often misunderstood and misquoted term, in asking for an end to all this – isn’t it Humanism instead?

Right to equality, Right to freedom from exploitation – Our fundamental rights guaranteed by the Indian constitution, remember anyone?

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My thoughts on Women's Day are here: It's a woman's world after all. The only update is that now they have an International Men's Day too! It's all about equality, is it?

A dear friend shared the following poem a while back, and I had been waiting for it to be 8th of March to post it on my blog. It's one of those poems, as M points out, "that you read sometimes (the nth time), & again you wish like hell you wrote it. then you pin it up on your wall..."

Here goes:

Phenomenal Woman - Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size

But when I start to tell them,

They think I'm telling lies.

I say,

It's in the reach of my arms

The span of my hips,

The stride of my step,

The curl of my lips.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.

I say,

It's the fire in my eyes,

And the flash of my teeth,

The swing in my waist,

And the joy in my feet.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can't touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them

They say they still can't see.

I say,

It's in the arch of my back,

The sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts,

The grace of my style.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Now you understand

Just why my head's not bowed.

I don't shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud.

When you see me passing

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It's in the click of my heels,

The bend of my hair,

the palm of my hand,

The need of my care,

'Cause I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

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In an earlier post, I had talked about the complexity and heartache behind a girl changing her name after marriage. However, I realize this could be a much smaller issue, when compared to the ‘love jehad’ or ‘romeo jehad’ talked about in a news snippet here.

Apparently, some groups in Kerala are concertedly working on converting Hindu girls to Islam after they fall in love with Muslim boys.

I can’t even decipher the plethora of emotions that crossed my mind and heart as I read the article. It is not only to do with the status of women in our society even in this day and age; it also has not much to do with questions on will men convert instead; it is about introspecting on our own religion and our own god!

Ofcourse, this is no breaking news to any of us; we all have at some point or the other heard of such conversions in an inter-religion marriage – Hindu-Muslim, Hindu-Christian, Christian-Muslim. However, each time I read a story of coerced transition in the name of love and religion, I cringe in fear.

Every religion says one God, every religion says respect the other – If there is one God, and each religion simply sees a different manifestation of the same super power, we are doing a great injustice to our concept of God or the Almighty by forcing one to change his or her religion.

It is unfortunate that how the history of human kind unravels the degenerative association of God with religion, religion with traditions and beliefs, traditions and beliefs with division, division with hatred, and hatred with bloodshed.

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A recent comment of one of the umpteen reality shows on MTV India - Teen Diva, left me flabbergasted. One of the judges told a girl, and I quote here, “You did not dance like a woman. Your dance moves could give a complex to a man.”

Now, will a man tell me how it is to behave like a woman? What the judge really meant was conform to what the society and culture, put in place for years by men for their own advantage, define and dictate how a woman should behave like. You know the kind of declarations your great grandma’s generation made – “Girls should only be seen and not heard”. Well dear, if you wish to see the pretty sight I make, you jolly well learn to hear me!

So what is really expected out of you when you are asked to be feminine?

Using a small flowery handkerchief in the worst of your colds instead of the more practical and convenient “gent’s” white one; Delicately eating small quantities at a candlelight dinner even if you are famished while your date takes the bigger morsels; Smiling ever so softly, barely hinting at your dimple at the funniest of jokes when you would rather laugh out loud showing all your teeth; Screaming at the slightest of cuts in public, forgetting the fact that the waxing last night was more painful than the worst of hurts you have ever had; And of course, feigning ignorance on subjects of science and economics and business and sports if the group of male species that you are in has only superficial knowledge ... aah I could go on...

Fortunately (:)) or unfortunately, men also have “Be a man” statements hurled at them, which I am sure must be suffocating for them as well. They need to foot the bill at a date, they cannot be scared of lizards and cockroaches, and they must know not only how to drive but also how to get around every city they take their girl to.

Many women, and men, are proactively trying to break this kind of gender stereotyping because it limits both sexes. If the minute a baby is born, he or she is compartmentalized into pink and blue, how is the baby supposed to develop its own unique identity? If the society has already cast the mould the personality of the new born must assume, we run the risk of endangering new thought and creative innovation. We have to empower our kids early on to make their own choices – real choices, because we lose the power of distinguishing our own choice and our conditioned choice as we grow up.

My mom always tells me how some relatives used to raise their eyebrows when as a kid I preferred playing with building blocks and cars rather than dolls – she had to shield me from being called a tomboy. I wasn’t. I loved frilly frocks and all colors pastel, but I did not love dolls. That’s my next point, just for the sake of going against what the society pronounces as normal, we need not consciously change ourselves to define an identity unique to the social construct. I need to choose and select what I genuinely like, and I should be allowed to do so.

Many people mistake this kind of an attempt to break free as gender war. The latter is completely different. Even though certain female stereotypes originate from a male-centric psychology, at this point, I only wish to focus on the confining aspect of the typecasting of genders for both males and females.

So, ladies and gentlemen, here’s my take on the age-old rhyme:

Sugar and spice and everything nice,

That's not really what all little girls are made of.

Snips and snails and puppy dog tails,

That's hardly what all little boys are made of.

There’s more to your little boy and little girl,

If only you could let their true selves unfurl.

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Having grown up on an extravagant indulgence of fairytale romances with princesses in distress and knights in shining armor, I have always envied the lives of the royalty across geographies and cultures – the Victorian splendor, the Mughal opulence, the Arabic excesses.

I have read legendary tales of birds in gilded cages but I always felt that in any given period in history, I would rather be a wealthy queen with no freedom than a woman who has to struggle. My argument goes like this - a Victorian princess must have been much more blithe and contented than a woman from, say, the bourgeoisie. Going by that logic, till yesterday, I’d not mind being an Arabic heiress with plenitude and luxury at my beck and call. Ignorance is bliss, they say and I agree. On my mother-in-law’s recommendation, I decided to spend my weekend reading “Princess: A True Story of Life Behind the Veil in Saudi Arabia” by the American writer, Jean Sasson. The book has been classified as the top 500 books written on women.

The story is a non-fictional heart wrenching autobiography of a princess that takes its readers to the forbidden realms of the royal house in Saudi. The princess, unfortunately, has an indomitable spirit and great courage, both causes of grave threat to a patriarchal society that sees women as only objects of possession. The men in her life – her brother, her father, her husband rule her life and do everything possible to annihilate her chutzpah. Much as the tale is about the harassed weaker sex whose only sin is the missing male organ, it is also a tale of the decadence of the male community who continue to live in the barbarism of the dark ages.

The powerful indictment of Sultana, the pseudonym of the central character of the narrative, made me shudder in first, disbelief, then anger and frustration. The thought of a contemporary undergoing such an arduous and torturous life in this age – yes, Sultana is still living, if her existence can be passed off as that, is abominable. This is not a prehistoric saga but a 21st Century extraordinary account of the ordinary lives of women in a part of the same world that we inhabit. I am inevitably forced to compare our lives. Is my equal status to my husband something I should feel privileged about? Should I be grateful to my dad for having educated me? Am I honored that the society I live in considers polygyny a crime?

A profound sadness shrouds the book, leaving little room for hope even though the Princess tries every trick from open defiance to subtle manipulation. The story ends as it begins, the closest men in her life visiting the mosque, leaving her alone behind. There is this helplessness that is so intricately woven with the unfolding of events that no reader can escape the despair the reading of the book brings. I have little courage to read the other two books as part of the trilogy – Princess Sultana’s Daughters and Princess Sultana’s Circle.
Equality of men and women is debatable in any society, but this blatant denial of basic human rights to women, and relegating them to a status worse than that of animals and slaves, is very disturbing, to say the least.

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But I do not trust the hullabaloo around March 8th - International Women’s Day!

To give all that is due to the American and European feminist and socialist movements of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries that fought and campaigned for equal rights for women in politics, social and economic arenas, it was a stalwart battle – well fought and well won (to a great extent).

From playing second fiddle to the patriarch to becoming world leaders and successful professionals, women have come a long way. However, there are still parts of the world where women continue to be paid lesser wages for the same labor as put in by their male counterparts and where girls are unwanted and killed at birth or in the womb. And, the so called Women’s Day makes no difference to the lives of these women.

I believe, in the initial years when the concept was institutionalized, the day was marked by protests, strikes and other events that aimed at focusing the world and media attention on issues that continue to plague the fairer sex. However, in today’s times, Women’s Day is confined to the elite celebration of the Page 3. The outrageous cocktail parties of the opulent, the extravagant sales and promotions by the retail giants, the scholarly didactic seminars and workshops by the UN and the likes - all target the woman that has already arrived or is well aware of her rights and what she can do legally or otherwise to fight for them.
But what happens to the woman in remote districts of the globe with no access to Internet or media, the woman who is abused by her husband day in and day or out, the woman who is forced to abort her female fetus, the infant who is buried because she was born with a different arrangement of chromosomes? Is this really an opportunity for them to realize their plight and do something about it? Do they see this as an occasion to revel in their womanhood? I wonder if they have heard of Women’s Day or even if they have, what it really means to them.

On a lighter note, I also feel that this whole abstraction of Women’s Day is not only overrated but also highly patronizing. I mean we have a global Women’s day to jubilate the manifold accomplishments of women but why don’t we have an International Men’s day? Surely, we have a few men as well that can boast of some exploits! Is it because all 365 days anyway belong to them and are spent in virile revelry? If yes, well my dear, I refuse to make do with one measly day – I want an equal share of the remaining 364 days as well.

In the past, especially during college days, I have recoiled at men wishing me ‘Happy Women’s Day’, but having matured over the years (or so I choose to believe) I understand that most don’t give it too much thought – for them it’s as good as another Valentine’s Day or Mother’s Day to pamper the women in their lives – I am okay with the exchanging of gifts and the elaborate dinners provided they don’t spend the rest of the year treating their wives and mothers as door mats!
As for women who make a big pomp and show of the day, I truly hope that they are happy because I strongly believe that though we have miles to go, it is a woman’s world after all :).

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The callousness and insensitivity of the law makers and law enforcers in the country (India) drive me insane.

A young girl on her way back from home late night/early morning is shot dead. Instead of focusing all effort towards nailing down the culprit, we are discussing whether women should go out in the night or not, whether they should get options to work from home or not. All these useless deliberations are disgusting to say the least. Dear CM, your city is not safe anytime of the day for person of any gender. It doesn't matter if it's 3 AM or 3 PM. Doesn't matter a man or a woman.

When a woman goes out to work and stays late to meet deadlines, she is not being "adventurous", she's being competitive in a world which is not lenient to her because of her gender and the threats it exposes her to. Sheila Dikshit's remarks simply expose the hypocrisy of the social mindset.

We want to so desperately prove ourselves to the rest of the world, we shout slogans on equality of men and women, we raise our daughters to take on the world like our sons do and then when the perverted miscreants strike, our disintegrated social thread slaps us on our faces and we are quick to recoil back into our narrow mindsets and try looking for easy answers. "We all know Delhi is unsafe - why work till late".

Yes, we also know a woman can be raped in broad daylight, we know a CEO can be lynched in front of a 100 people, we know a bomb can explode at 6:00 PM on Saturday evening before Diwali, we know we can be murdered sitting in the comfort of our house, we know we can be run over by a speeding bus or a drunk son of a business tycoon/politician. So what do we do with this knowledge repository? Just accept that we live in times of total anarchy and not work, not shop, not relax, not live life?
What makes the whole situation more hurtful is that this does not come from an ordinary not-so-educated house wife who is worried to death about the safety of her working daughter, but the Chief Minister of the capital of the country who has been elected and entrusted with the responsibility of keeping the citizens safe and punishing the criminals.

I pray to god that this time the government and the law surprise us by taking speedy action to provide justice to Sowmya because this is not about Sowmya alone, it is about Neha, Priyanka, Pooja, Yuvika, you, me and all citizens, man or woman alike.

When I step out of home I should not be worried about the uncle who is waiting to feel me up in the crowded DTC bus, I should not be tensed about eve-teasers and robbers on the 2 minute walk I might have to take alone from the bus stop to college, I should not panic when my classes or even movies get extended wondering what awaits me in the darkness of the night, I should not worry my self sick when my parents go out for diwali shopping, I should not be anxious if my daughter is held up at work in the wee hours. Is that too much to ask for Ms. Dikshit?

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