Monday, July 21, 2014

Chauvinism is often promoted by the urban female

MCP --- Male Chauvinist Pig…jokingly or seriously we often label a man MCP. But have we women looked at ourselves? How we continuously encourage chauvinism and then cry out aloud for discrimination?

Let me share an instance from my college days --- We often celebrated birthdays by cutting cakes in the class. A girl once very candidly suggested that the girls should sacrifice and hand out the bigger pieces to the boys. I think the rule was that when you serve something you keep the smallest helping for yourself irrespective of gender. But this girl felt that boys by virtue of their “superior” gender should get the bigger pieces. [In case you are wondering…no, I am not fat and don’t crave cakes. It’s solely the discrimination and not the scrumptiousness of the cake that hurt me. J]

I went to study in a coeducational institution. And never ever have I come across a boy who treated girls as lesser beings. When a girl topped a class not a single boy felt bad about being overtaken by a “lesser mortal” Competition existed…a competition among equals in a healthy way. But outside the school mothers often were heard defending their boys’ bad score. “Boys do not study…they tend to be more intelligent but they neglect their studies and hence the bad grades. Girls are basically stupid…but they put in hours of studies and hence the good grades.”

Thankfully I never heard a single boy use this excuse. The urban Indian male mostly attaches similar status to each gender. [Well it started from the time of Vidyasagar and later Raja Rammohan Roy who thought it would be unfair to leave the women illiterate and even more unfair to burn them alive.]


The rule of Sati is yet to be abolished completely. Even today women openly say that the value of a woman’s life is less than that of a man. A woman is told to follow rituals to ensure her husband’s well being while her own health can go to hell. This stink of chauvinism is more prominent in the (n-1)th generation of females. India is a country heavily biased towards men. Fortunately things are changing. But in a country where once wives used to be burnt alive after the husband had passed away you would need time for things to improve. A lot of time. Several generations. You would see that each generation of women enjoy better privileges than the preceding one. And unfortunately that is the very thing which women take as a reason to bicker about.



The responsibility lies with us, the women of the current generation to take a vow that we will not compare the girls of the next generation with ourselves. We are fighting a battle…a battle to win equality and if we see the next generation girls an inch closer to that equality then we should feel happy and not threatened…happy that our lives have not been wasted…happy that our battle is nearing its end.



Wednesday, May 7, 2014

The masked words

It was a big day for the family. The newest member had come home from the hospital. Every one surrounding the little baby was busy showering heaps of praises on her. Some said the shape of her nails suggest remarkable wisdom. Some said the way her lips quivered signifies a future nightingale. Every thing about the baby extracted some superlative from the family members. The domestic aid Malati too came rushing by. After managing to squeeze her diminutive frame through the tightly formed circle of family members she got a glimpse of the baby’s face. The baby contorted her face into some expression which Malati imagined to be a smile. Her heart filled up with joy. She too had become a mother three years back and ever since the sight of little babies aroused in her a sensation of boundless joy. “She is so pretty...she looks so similar to my baby,” she commented.

Sudden silence descended in the room.

The entire family swung around, their eyebrows knit in annoyance. How on earth could she compare the appearance of their beloved child with that of her own child?


The mothers in the room should have known that Malati had just given the child the biggest compliment that she was capable of…she had just called the child perfect.



Wednesday, April 30, 2014

The father's perspective

The child (who is now a grown up working in another town) is going to be home for a few days. The tantrums of teenage and the rebellions of early twenties are a thing of the past now. Distance has surprisingly made the child value his parents more than the past. The father is excitedly shopping for the favourite food items and the mother is busy with the culinary arrangements.

Finally the moment arrives when the child lands in the airport. Both the parents are equally excited but the child runs into the arms of the mother. After being ignored for full 15 minutes the father gets a nod from the child and an almost formal “How are you dad?”

The ride to home begins. Again the father tries to join in. But he has never been a conversationalist and fails to blend in. Moreover the child does not show much interest in sharing the details with him. Pained he looks out of the window admiring the trees as he has done for the past 25 years.

When lunch is served the father again puts forth another desperate attempt. “Isn’t the meat tender? What about the cauliflowers? And the ghee? I bought them from your favourite stores.” The answer he gets is “Yes daddy…they are all so delicious...you have no idea how much I have missed mommy’s cooking.”

After lunch the child unpacks and hands out a saree to his mother. He has brought a shirt for his father too. The father very happily accepts it only to notice that it had been bought by his wife who knew that as always that he would be forgotten and tried to protect his feelings.

Agonized the father retires to his room. The child does not dislike him but neither does he hold the post of confidante in his life. What did he do wrong? He was happy when the child was born. He had suppressed his mild resentment when his wife’s attention was stolen from him. He had slogged at a job he did not like to provide for the child. Yes he did not attend to the child for 24 hours during the formative years and yes his love for the child is no match for the overwhelming love that his wife harboured for the child. But in his own way he had loved his child and the emotional distance created despite that perplexed him.

Suddenly he heard raised voices from the bedroom. The mother and the child were fighting over something. Sensing an opportunity the father rushed in. Both of them hushed up at his sight. “What are you fighting over?” “Nothing,” said the child but the tone suggested “None of your business.” “Whatever it is you have my support” the father made another try. “Yeah, I know” the child replied in a monotone.


Hanging his head the father waddled back to his room and ensconced himself in solitude. He sighed and closed his eyes. May be if he tried harder he would be able to suppress the hurt. 


Thursday, April 10, 2014

The pleas

Don’t uproot me, please don’t uproot me,
Let me breathe and let me be…

Some whims the world has, some my own;
Some you like, some you do not.
If I hold on to the ones I like
Will you turn away and leave me to rot?

There are storms to bear
And deserts to see.
But please do not suffocate me in a forest
To protect me.

Don’t uproot me, please don’t uproot me,
If you want me to live then let me be…




Tuesday, March 11, 2014

The future of relationships

Let’s accept it. The present does not look too appealing as far as modern relationships are considered.

People are increasingly growing comfortable in their own space and the entry of any intruder into this private space is looked upon with contempt. The search for an ideal mate consequently has become very challenging. In fact many people willingly choose to remain single for life. While this is not a bad idea these people also miss out on consortium. They are ready to settle down provided they find the exact person they have in mind.

This perpetually single lifestyle often does not suit people. They miss the availability of sex, the pleasure of permanent partnership, the shared midnight sobs about life’s failures and other things that technically come under spousal comforts.

So what do you do when you do not like whatever is available? You go for something custom made.

And that’s exactly what our future generations would do.

Soon every one would have a genetically engineered spouse custom made to suit the needs of the modern man and woman. And if they get bored with the outcome they can always request for a tweak in the chromosomes to bring about the desired changes. In short a relationship with a person made to appease their own set of idiosyncrasies…the perfect relationship.

What??? Getting judgemental? That’s the way it has always been…the older generations can never appreciate the changes. If you are finding it too weird it just confirms that they would find it too alluring.  




Friday, February 21, 2014

Why wives get furious about porn…

No two women are similar. Even the most accomplished womanizer cannot claim to have an exhaustive knowledge of the female psyche. Still I am taking the risk of making a broad classification of married women based on their reaction about porn.

Type 1: They are the ones who condemn the act of copulation.  They do not like to have sex and they only sleep with their husbands to complete their spousal duty. It’s no wonder that they get furious if and when they catch their husbands treating themselves with porn.

Type 2: They are the possessive ones. They enjoy their time between the sheets and cannot stand the fact that her guy still feels like watching porn when she has already given him the real experience. She takes it as a personal defeat and gets mad at the erring husband. [There is a little bit of this type lurking in all women actually.]

Type 3: They are the ones with a will to explore options. They enjoy watching porn and have their own personal collection. These women like to watch and enact later. They get furious if their men do not share porn time with them.

Type 4: They are the very unfortunate ones who are married to boring men with low libido. These women get furious because they keep hoping that their men would watch porn and learn some new tricks but never ever does that wish come true.

PS: Don't worry if you fail to categorize your woman...told you it is difficult to foray into the dark alleys of her mysterious mind.


Monday, February 3, 2014

Bengali Valentine's Day

So Saraswati puja is around the corner and the clichéd “Saraswati puja is Bengali Valentine's day” phrase is doing the rounds. I’m not religious enough to take offense at the mention of love on a holy occasion but the comparison is probably not valid in today’s context.

May be one or two generations back when male-female interactions were largely prohibited puja times had acted as an excuse for free mingling. But nowadays children are raised in a different manner. They study in coeducational institutions, they play in mixed groups and no one raises an eyebrow if a girl and a boy are found interacting.

Saraswati puja thus is no longer the much needed bridge between girls and boys. It definitely is an excuse for the teenagers to dress up like grown ups and feel good about it. It definitely is an excuse to have the delicious prasad and lunch. But it no longer qualifies as an excuse for random flirting.

However I feel that the best part about Saraswati puja is the irrevocable license to not study. [For those of you are unaware of the tradition: Saraswati puja is the worship of the goddess of knowledge and ironically people are not allowed to study on this day.]
Every one who has ever been a student has immensely enjoyed this study curfew.

Sometimes the work shirker inside my bengali self wishes that the job sectors had similar no work policies…sigh...