Sunday, January 26, 2014

Film Dedh Ishqiya, a review of what it is not

Romantic humour, starring Madhuri Dixit - Nene, Naseeruddin Shah, Arshad Warsi, Huma Qureshi, fulfills its purpose in making the viewer sit up and have a good laugh at the story line.

Two crooks, having stolen a precious necklace are caught and jailed. After coming out of the jail, Khalu, (Naseeruddin Shah) discovers another opportunity that has opened up for him. Began Para ( Madhuri Dixit), the unrequited in love and marriage wife of the Nawab of a princely state Mahmudabad, who has died, leaving all his wealth to her, has called for ‘application’ of all eligible men in the state to come compete to win her hand in marriage. The Nawab had made one condition though – the Begum, who was a dance girl, winning many hearts, must marry only someone who is a poet. Hence, a motley crowd of so called poets gather to show their poetic prowess.

In the meantime, it is revealed that the Begum, much disillusioned with her shohar, the now dead Nawab, whose only passion was for young males dressed in coiffure delicate suits, had indeed, developed an intimate relationship with her hand maid, Huma Qureshi. While a show of pretense is held for the choice of the right candidate, there are two things at play – one, Naseeruddin Shah discovers that in the motley crowd, his old friend and fellow thief Arshad Warsi, is there as well. Second, and more importantly, Huma along with the Begum have hatched their own plan to fool the entire lot of hopeful men, but they require a close ally who would help them execute their plan, without knowing what was going on behind his back.

Arshad, is that ally, the emotional target in the ploy, who is befriended by Huma and fooled into believing that she is in love with him. Indeed, their desire has culminated into a one-night-stand. Huma, manages to use him, to steal the wealth from the palace and then makes off with the Begam, to start a life with each other, starting a classical dancing school for young girls. The men are left high and dry and must meet their own fate in the hands of law once again.



While the mainline of the film is a comedy of errors, the film has borrowed marginally from the story Lihaaf by Ismat Chugtai.

In the original story, a similar situation is at play – the disillusioned Begum develops itches all over the body and needs the help of the maid to constantly scratch her, while her Nawab, a lover of art and young men, entertains himself with the choicest men, leaving his wife as if she were an artifact. In the original story, the Begum and her maid are depicted to be in a close intimate relationship, when their erotic kiss is displayed on the wall as a shadow. Indeed, the narrator of the story, the young child, is a spectator to the goings on, between the two, as she sees the ‘elephant’ in movement under the quilt – Lihaaf, thus telling the reader of physical, sexual activity going on.  

The Madhuri Dixit – Nene starrer is not so bold and even though the kissing scene is imitated between her and Huma, as it appears in the original story, Dedh Ishqiya can hardly be considered a take-off from Lihaaf, although it tries to imitate it.

It is hardly a story of two women coming together, because of love. It is reflective of an escape route for the Begam, in the face of having a shohar, who is not interested in her body or emotions at all. Indeed, the storyline is comic with a twist.

Madhuri Dixit – Nene, has played a good come back role, using a dash of sensationalism but yet has not moved from the bedrock of what she stands for, the dhuk-dhuk girl of men. And there lies the Dedh Ishqiya – who is the Dedh, one and a half measure? Is he the Nawab first and the Begum half? Is it, Huma, the maid first, and the Nawab, half? Is it the loves of the Nawab, first and the Begam, half? While we think on, we can’t forget that Nasiruddin Shah and Begam Para had also gone past the first stage of love, in their past association, but had only been half fulfilled.

Dedh Ishqiya, makes a good attempt to break the cast of a story of two women, taking off with each other, in the backdrop of unrequited love from men thus remaining loyal to the hetero-normative patterns of social partnerships.

Ms Madhuri Dixit – Nene, knows which side her bread is buttered and where the money lies. Finally, it is in the hearts of men, and women, who might want to imitate/fall in love with her screen name, fame and beauty. She has already bagged one crore from Uttar Pradesh state government as a token of appreciation.  

The same appreciation was not shown to even an actress of much deeper significance, Shabana Azmi. Or for that matter Nandita Das.

Got the message, now? Deal with it.





Please note: If you don’t know Urdu, which is the language you will hear most the dialogue in the movie, don’t fear. The desi-English subtitles help you through, somehow.


You may also like to read another review:

Or read Ismat Chugtai’s Lihaaf as presented in Manushi magazine







Monday, January 20, 2014

A resting place for the P!

India, last week must be scrutinized with even-mindedness.

To begin with, let us dwell on the video below, where, three leaders from different religious bodies have spoken on same sex love. Please to note, Ramdev baba who apparently has a cure for homosexuality, is represented by the lady, who supports his magic yogic remedy. According to her, engagement in same sex activity is counter productive for future generations. After all, sexual activity, is supposed to have an end in mind, that being procreation.

Our Mulla ji, supports her views and reiterates that since, it is not allowed in the Quran, it must be banned. Not only that, all homosexuals must be stoned to death.

Most interesting however is the view of our Father, who while stating that the church certainly does not permit such acts, considers that in future it might re-look at homosexuality and consider making some changes in its rigid attitude towards it. He supports the doing away of Section 377, IPC, in India, Thank you! But then, returning to what the Bible states as God made man for women, he refers to the male sexual organ and goes on to state, ‘there is a purpose for which these organs are made. It must find its place to rest in…’ meaning the vagina.



In the light of the above, let us now deviate from homosexual expression of love to the normative, hetero-sexual one. Two incidents that marred last week, were, the gang rape of the Danish tourist lady, in broad day light, which has shocked the world once again, making India, one of the most unsafe place to visit.

The lady had lost her way to her hotel in Paharganj, very near the New Delhi Railway Station. Having asked a boy to show her the way, she was misguided to a gang of men, drunk and drugged and instead of helping her, they gang raped her over nine times, leaving her shattered and abused. The Delhi Chief Minister, blamed drugs and drinks for these heinous acts, while the Danish lady fled back to the safety to her country.

The question I am asking you, dear religious leaders, will you say that this dastardly act happened because, the penis, must find its resting place? 

Take the second instance, the very recent death of the high profile wife of the Minister of state, in government of India. (see Link below), If the accusations are to be held true, for now Twitter must first hand over the IMs that went between the minister and his beloved, the Pakistani journalist, are we to again say that whether it be a male god, a politician, a high profile journalist, or some addicts and drunkards, we are to make a special concession, for the penis must find its resting place in the vagina of a woman?

In a news item, on page 28, of The Times of India, dated Sunday, January 19, 2014, titled, ‘In 2 years, ex-pope defrocked 400 priests for abuse’, (see Link below), it is clear that sexual abuse was and is rampant in the Church as ex-pope Benedict XVI states. Let us please NOT forget that the ex-pope had renounced his position because he declared that he could no longer lie that he was gay. Are we to say, that he was excommunicated because, his, could not find its resting place, as directed by god and other religious leaders?

Indeed, to draw religious leaders, religion into bedrooms, is insane! If they must pervade in our acts in the privacy of our homes, then they have lost their place under the sun. The purpose of religion is not to address our erotic and romantic inclinations and make preposterous statements about what the organ hanging between the legs must do or not do; indeed, theirs is a limited scope, that being, addressing the ‘spirit’, the ‘atman’, the ‘rabbah’ who resides within.

Do you see any merit in voices that talk because they need to voice their ignorance and intolerance? Indeed, they must first look at their own homes, their own blood and flesh and see why they insist on voicing their thoughts around subjects for which their opinions do not matter to us. They, people joining religious bodies in order to carry out religious activities, serve only as a section of society which can best be called a minority, for only a small percentage of human population, chooses to lead a life that is not normative.

What then are the Freudian connections between religion and sex? Why are they so obsessed about talking about sex? Is it trying to address their own need to find a resting place for their P?

If you ask me, what the connection is, between religion and the P, I would undoubtedly say, it lies right there, in the scriptures itself.

R. I. P



Suggested readings:

Delhi rape: how can women travellers stay safe?

In 2 years, ex-pope defrocked 400 priests for abuse

One step forward, two backward

Sunanda Pushkar, wife of Union minister Shashi Tharoor, found dead in Delhi hotel
                                   
                                                                                                                                    


                                     

Thursday, January 09, 2014

Film Bariwali: Boundaries around women's body and mind

Set in rural/semi urban Bengal, just away from Kolkata, Bariwali is a film that showcases life of women in a traditional Bengali family.

This write attempts to draw the attention of the reader to the choice of characters, in the background of the main story. It tries to understand, how sensitively and carefully, Rituparno Ghosh, the director of the film, chose his characters to speak of a deeper reality that lies beneath the upper layer of the story board itself.

The protagonist is nameless, just known as bariwali, the land lady. She lives alone in a massive house, on the outskirts of Kolkata, with two other human beings, Proshonno da and Maloti. Proshonno da, is single, rather elderly, with features that can be called feminine. He is the perfect aid that a woman needs for all the work which generally is managed by men. He is older than bariwali and is her paid help, and lives in the house. Maloti, is on the other hand is young, sprightly and active, both at home and romantically, since she has a boyfriend. She is also a paid help in the house.

Juxtapose, these two against the land lady, and what you will find is a woman, holding power over two workers in her house, but as the film develops, you see that actually, they are the people who have more power than her.

Carefully chosen by Rituparno Ghosh to put a point across, neither Proshonno da, nor Maloti will have any sexual, romantic intrusion into her life, because, Proshonno da, although well past his youth, is not a virile man, masculine and sex motivated. Indeed, in his quiet way, with his slight body, thin and exuding feminine gestures, the bariwali, is fuller and far stronger in appearance than him. Nor will Maloti, too young, playful and happy go lucky, be a challenge to preserving the bariwali’s sexuality, because, she may have to grow older to understand the deeper implications of this trajectory, and in any case she is engaged to her masculine, possessive boyfriend, with whom she is exploring her sexuality in the hide.

The barrenness of the life of bariwali, only comes to light though, when a film company hires the lower portion of her house to shoot their film. Dipankar, the director of the film, seems to come closest to her desires, when, interacting with him, on a daily basis; she is hounded by her own desires that have been asleep in her mind too long. It is revealed that she was at one time, about to be married, when a death in the family, caused her marriage to be cancelled, leaving her, unfulfilled. But is Dipankar going to fulfill her emotional, romantic needs? Hitched between, being desired by two women, one, the land lady herself, whose expression of her interest in him shows in subtle ways, the heroin of his the film, Rupa Ganguly is more blatant, the director is more concerned with his, film that the emotions of either women.

Bariwali is not going to benefit from the overture she has made. She will remain the nameless land lady, addressed only as Didi, elder sister. Indeed, she will have to remain in the cage of non-expression, silenced, because there is neither outlet, nor a shore where she can anchor her emotions on.

The wonderful choice of characters, in her personal life, Proshonno da and Maloti, while aiding her daily needs, accentuate the boundaries within which she lives, on the top floor of a massive house, where the light falls, only if she sits out in the verandah. Bariwali is living in the cage of her own making, as she lives the traditional life, not having seen or been with any other. Her sexuality will not be challenged by either of these, for one, is too gentle and too benign, the other, too young and exploring elsewhere.

Women’s sexuality are guarded, preserved, even if they are not productive in the normative sense, of the term, that being able to bear child. The shackles of tradition along with how they are placed in the environment in which they live, only strengthens the reality further.

Rituparno Ghosh, is known to bring out the layers of hypocrisy ailing the middle-class in the most refined and sometimes blatant way.

For those with finer taste, and a weak heart, Bariwali, will settle best in the stomach, the burps coming up gently to shake them up, for there is no getting away from the fact of the human chain of boundary, not only created by men, but preserved by women as well.




Cast: Chironjeet, Kiron Kher, Rupa Ganguly

Thursday, January 02, 2014

Book Review - Tibor Jones Nominee 2012, Tell a Thousand Lies

Tell a Thousand Lies by Rasana Atreya

On the face of it, it is the story of what almost every Indian is obsessed with, marriage and the colour of the skin.

Three girls, Malli and her twin sisters Lata and Pullamma are orphaned and brought up by their grandmother, Ammamma, with meager means until they reach the marriageable age when alliances must be made, paying dowry, bride price. This is Mallepalli Village, June 1995.

When a suitable boy is found for Lata, her twin Pullamma, taller and of darker skin is all helpful to ensure that the boys family does like Lata and takes her for their daughter-in-law, even though, Lata, the smartest of all the three sisters, actually wants to study to be a doctor. Malli has been sent away, in order to ensure that she is not seen by the boy’s family, while Pullamma, serves to make them happy. Alas, the dowry asked for is too high and while the possible alliance comes to naught, Lata, does the dreadful, in the hope of escaping her lot and the village, by having the unmentionable, sex and pregnancy thereafter, with a petty worker from the city who promises to marry her, but escapes.

In the meantime, central to the story is the politician, Kondal Rao, who holds the lives of the girls, their grandmother and twists and turns around these lives to help him achieve his end, that being winning the elections and a seat in the state government. Using Pullamma for his political benefit, he turns her life from a simple dark faces girl to a goddess, who becomes, even to her own refusal to enact the part, the local goddess, who is believed to create miracles. The fantastic turn of events is intersected often and again, by Pullamma attempts to return to a normal life and escape the village to do so. This comes true when Kondal Rao’s nephew marries her and takes her away to Hyderabad, where she is far from the milieu of her ‘abnormal’ life as a goddess. But not for long; the evil hands of Kondal Rao are too long and soon she is discovered and brought back to the village to feed the indeed, blind faith of the human crowd surrounding her, who most certainly will vote for Kondal Rao, because, he supports their mass obedience to Pullamma. By now, pregnant, Pullamma, finds her life managed once again by the powerful politician when he casts her away in a remand home for women, where Pullamma is to come across a doctor, with a broken life just like hers and who then helps her to escape once again to Bangalore. It has come with a tremendous price though, as Pullamma is told that she has given birth to a still born baby girl, when actually her boy child, born, healthy has been taken away and given off to a couple, who is dearest to Pullamma’s heart, closer than her own shadow, but she is not aware of it. Full of twists and turns, surprises, betrayal, benevolence and life changing events, Rasana Atreya has managed to weave a tale that keeps you hooked to the book, till the end. It plays out common daily happenings, which go as normal in our daily lives, but can be termed as sibling jealousy, and the surprising length it can go to, to destroy lives, especially when there is an unscrupulous politician who is ready to use every opportunity to his end.

Fear not reader, the expert story teller, whose book became the nominee for The Tibor Jones Asia Prize 2012, does not leave her readers high and dry. At the end, having waded through much mucky water that life lays out, the reader finds that the author has tied up the book nicely when all question marks are erased and the heart forgives the characters who wronged each other. Except Kondal Roa, who is now a Member of Parliament (MP) for his state. And if Pullamma had lost a lot, she has also received a lot more in life and finally, she does come around to be the winner, despite the colour of her skin, which is dark.

There are a few points that leave you to think about, after you have put your Kindle down – first, has the author, tried to prove that the colour of the skin for marriageable girls does not matter, because Pullamma does get it all, despite her struggles, loss, grief and misery. In which case, it is heart warming, to know that the great Indian obsession has been dealt a blow.

Second, the fantastic turn of events making Pullamma a goddess in the village at one time and over many other times and her escape to normal life, albeit aided by her husband and his mother, happens too often and one wonders how, the protagonist was able to keep the dual life on for long durations, easily falling into and out of it, with that much ease.

One also wonders from the feminist angle, that if Pullamma, could be considered to be the epitome of what feminists hunger for, a woman who has been able to break away from the shackles of a society driven by colour of skin, bride price, narrow mindedness, traditional conservative homes, why should such a woman hunger for her husband, child, and still worry about the colour of her own skin at times. But then, you realize, she is only Indian and no matter, how far she has travelled in her own journey, the core, values, remain the same.

The nuggets of wisdom spread across the books are eternal – the smart ones don’t always shine out in life; bad days are not forever; behind every cloud, there is a silver lining; keep out of the two Ps – police and politicians. And, many more.

A book based in India, where the language, used is thick with the flavor of ‘local’ fragrance in the use of the English language. And hence, very sweet!





Buy: On Kindle Rs 99, Paperback: Rs 918


About the author Rasana Atreya:

 






Monday, December 30, 2013

The year that was 2013

Picture from the net
 

The BIGGEST success of 2013 was the whooping growth of Social Media, which increasingly is being accessed on handset, Tabs, or dear old, laptop.

For me, starting with my declaration (which was highly edited by partner!) Up Close: Another colour of the rainbow, did excellent and brought forth what I love most – lots of laughter and admiration. I received calls from friends saying how much they enjoyed the piece.


Soon , followed my first meeting and interview with my all time favourite, Sanjna Kapoor. Along with the photographers we stood below her house in Delhi on one wintry morning late December 2012, to do the interview. She was her classy best and the interview was warm and full of memories of the past, her father, mother, grandfather and her new baby, Junoon. Of course like all mothers, she did stop  by to talk only for a bit though, about her biggest joy, her son.


March 2013 was a winner!

My partner’s book, Transgressing Boundaries was released by Zubaan book.


The interview with one of the greatest writers of our times, Madhulika Liddle followed.


Then, what I would love the world to remember him for – the last interview Rituparno Ghosh did was with me at his residence in Kolkata where he spoke on many things which are close to him and most of all, about himself. Talking to him was easy, as we shared something(s) in common, Advertising & Media being one. I am sad he is no more with us, because, at least the world would have seen a film surely on what he thought of the Nirbhaya issue and the way Media handled it. His question was: had she not been a girl in her early twenties, and hence, within quotes, at the marriageable age, fertile with the ready mix of stats that collate with how patriarchy looks at women, would Media be interested in the case? Hence, is Media not patriarchal at core? We may say that again, in the recent Tarun Tejpal case as well. If the woman was past her 50s, would Media, care too hoot?


In September, my publishers Xynobooks LLC, released my second Book, Laughing Stock Productions. A bag of laughter, it is what I call my Govinda Film – paise wasul – Get your money’s worth!


Closely followed the death of our friend Betu Singh.


October brought with it, the publishing article on one of my most favourite academic person, who can laugh and be joyous as well. Uma Chakravarti, whose work on the 1984 riots in Delhi, was path breaking. As a feminist and a historian, she has many books to her credit, but what she is doing now, is going to leave a stamp on Visual Art and Film making.


In November, I completed the first draft of my third book. In a nutshell the how to, lies is a magic formula – become single for a month, if you are partnered, write, outsource everything else, dramatise and play out your book in front of the mirror, take short breaks, drive yourself with your deadline of 30 days to write the full novel. You might do it in 21 even with the breaks, as I did!

To take a break from the mundane, I did my first translation/transcreation of a Tamil song I so, love.


Come December, I have been partying and rejoicing! I am truly grateful to 2013, for all that it brought to me and I know in my heart as surely as one good day, gives birth to an excellent one the next, or what the sages have said: The future is what you make of the present, 2014 will bring to pass all I want in my heart and carry my passion of writing to another level.  And so, I sit with my arms open to what will be, will be!
 

Happy New Year 2014! May it bring all the goodness of life, joy and happiness!
 

 

 

Friday, December 20, 2013

Fake or feminist?

Amrita Dasgupta & Anjanava Maitra
Long absences make the heart grow fonder. Sometimes they provide the much needed respite from the monotony of things around you and thrust you to a world where, everything is different. For me, this time, both were true.

Whenever I am asked, where I am from, I find it difficult to answer the question. How do you explain to people you feel you belong to the world, when actually all they mean to ask is, where do you come from, now. To answer their question, a reluctant Delhi slips through my mouth. How do you explain where you feel closest to your heart to live in?  

On most days, I live in cyberspace and not in any terrestrial space, although I occupy one. My world consists of people, I may have never met in my life and yet, I am deeply connected with them. Also most of them are now in two distinct categories – writers and activists apart from clients on my list of Facebook friends and LinkedIn connects. Sadly, of these, there are a few I have given more of my heart to, than I have received in return. Yet, I know, that they are instrumental to keeping me in my heart space, one which we take for granted at most times. The heart sutra for me is distilled in a few words, loving, forgiving, accepting the other for what they are and expanding my horizon and inner space to receive. In that sense, they give and I take.

Taking a break from the mundane and leaving the cyber world for the territorial, is a welcome change, when one connects with the real.

Marriages, they say are made in heaven, but they happen in the world of matter. An elaborate Bengali marriage, running into days, of fun, food, laughter and joy of two persons and families coming together, can be a burst of many wonderful colours and hopes and blessings. It is in order – patriarchal, heterosexual and the union is expected to bring forth one or two off springs which will then bring forth more happiness and joy around the couple and their families.

We did not grow up together, her mother and I, although we were cousin sisters. We lived in two different places, she in Kolkata and I in Shillong. It was after almost sixteen years of not seeing each other, that I in 1996, took a break to visit Kolkata. It was truly like meeting my extended family for the first time. There I met my niece, the one who just got married, sitting between two of her cousin brothers, the now very tall and handsome, boys, Shiba and Trishul. They were huddled together watching TV, although I suspect they were watching me, the alien animal from some other planet, supposed to be their mothers’ sister!

It all began then! The childhood memories of playing house, hiding under the bed, all three of us, Didibhai, Dadabhai and I, came back to memory, like a fresh water bath under the spring. I remember spending long stretches of time at their home, playing doll, going to the pattshala (informal school) where Dadabhai and I always sat on the floor at the back and talked, and talked, and talked! It has never been the same after that visit, 17 years ago.

Kolkata dawned to me, when these emotions returned. I suspect my love for Kolkata has nothing to do with returning to my roots, for mine are really in Shillong, but the pure love of connecting to my beloveds, my brothers and sisters, my mamas (maternal uncles) and mashis (maternal aunts) and their progeny.

Isn't it strange that I may hold out against patriarchy, the institution of marriage and uphold the rights of an autonomous human being, but when it comes to those my emotions are invested in, I am rarely ever militant about it?

So am I a fake or a feminist? These lovely pictures of the marriage, should tell.

Photos:



Sunday, December 01, 2013

From ‘We Exist’ to “Just Married”

Photo credit: Bally Rai, Delhi Pride March
The Delhi Pride March has come and gone. Much fanfare and happiness followed the event on the 24th November, 2013 and it took a day or two for all the photos to be up on Facebook. The reception on FB was however, lukewarm, for right at that moment, the Tehelka, Tarun Tejpal issue took centre-stage high jacking the otherwise, expected much hype on FB.

Correct me if I am wrong, but this time media was chasing another story, with all its much overused masala of rape, abuse and sexual harassment, of which the Tejpal story is rife. Thus, LGBTQ rights took back stage, in the list of priority. Given that media brings discussions to the forefront but only those that they think need to come into limelight, so that the TRP and burgeoning sales of news papers and magazines are ensured, a subject as Gay Rights certainly is of little importance now. LGBTQ issues may be outside normative rules laid out by society, and therefore problematic to patriarchal structure of society, but it is at least consensual sex between two/more individuals. Sadly, even on Social Media, the expected LIKE/SHARE from other Groups in the same category also failed to show support in the face of the Tejpal mega story burst over days and instead of sharing and liking the photos, they too did their rounds with Tejpal.

The Tejpal story had in it what it takes the media and those who consume it, like you, me, of whatever gender, the ‘dope’ that humans all over hunger for - ‘negative’ stories like harassment, rape, abuse and such stuff. In Social Media, the pattern is the same. Negative stories receive many LIKE and SHARE, retweet etc, creating viral/trend effect across. All and everyone, world over are engaged in consuming, sharing, retweeting and putting across their views.

If you are not aware of, though, it would do well to know it now, the stories on Social Media which do their maximum rounds, showing anger and opinion, causing the much desired viral effect are from people below the age of 18 and therefore not adult. Indeed, their opinion is important but cannot change the environment, and the politics that affect our lives. If you are seeing viral effect and LIKE and SHARE in your profile updates, it is only among your friends. And how does that affect us? Wah! Wah! Back scratching. LIKE and SHARE again among friends of friends!

Who is then bothered about your love story, your consensual sex, even if it be among same sex partners, lovers? No wonder then, to make matters worse the photos of the Gay Pride March in Delhi, shared by one Group on Facebook did not even get enough LIKE and SHARE from rival groups, thus bringing forth another factor, which has been swept under the carpet for too long, the old ill at ease rivalry that maligns the Gay Movement in India, the disease called in-fighting. Indeed, it is not too different from the political environment in the country, where five states going to polls are screaming and shouting about themselves. Of course, we know those who scream the loudest, hear their own selves first. Others choose to put their hands over their ears and block out the sound.

Can we then urge the soon to follow, Mumbai Pride March, to muster opinion, by being on that side of News, which the world loves – negative news which feed the negative minds, and evolve a sound strategy to get attention, given that in times where any incident in India, like even a sexual harassment one, is taking on the colours of the political parties, fighting tooth and nail, over each other, the movement may just be another colourful walk through the by lanes of Mumbai. Unless, one masters the media trends which have remained the same, because humans consuming the information are the same, one generation replacing another, a call for being noticed will go up in thin air, no matter which media you consume, the print, electronic or the new kid in town, called social media.

To remind ourselves once again, when Zee TV started its channel in Delhi, way back in the late 90s, we were told that hour after hour was devoted to rape stories; women faced the camera boldly relating how this one or that had ‘baladkar kiya’, raped them. The TRP said it all! It was so high that no other publicity was even needed to make Zee TV one of the most watched channels in the state of Delhi.

If truth be told, come December, the Nirbhaya story will highjack all other stories and Tejpal, Arushi, will recede to the dark deep crevices of the Newsroom and again rape, harassment, honour killing will take centre stage.

To impact and create a buzz, one needs to peg one’s cause to a theme.  Why not use politics itself and ask why the erstwhile Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu, living with a woman for the last few decades has not worked towards rights of gay marriages so far?  In the event of her death, will her partner over decades be left high and dry or would she naturally inherit the entire property, movable and immovable left behind?

In the absence of proactive laws towards same sex partnerships, the Movement is toothless. For the vast majority of people who are part of heterosexual community, the key to acceptance is not whether one is gay or not, but whether the laws of the country accept the partnership/marriage between same sex persons as legitimate. A shift from ‘We Exist’ to “Just Married” would drive in the point harder and cause much flurry in media, than one more Gay Pride March across the country. A Movement pegged on marriage among same sex partnerships, would thrust the whole debate of acceptance of persons inclined towards same sex partnerships/friendships, redundant. If the law accepts the marriage, it accepts who you are.


Period.






More photos of Delhi Pride March, 24, November, 2013

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Nee… / நீ…You...

Nee...lyrics by Aisoorya Vijayakumar




Nee…You!

With your coming
the pain sleeping in my eyelids
has subsided.
The little plant hiding in the seed
has sprung up to meet the sky.
My heart has come alive
with our relationship.

My eyes have opened
with ecstasy
Surprise, shock
laughter, goose bumps
admiration sparkle
in these eyelids.

In the screaming mind
loneliness persisted
but emerging from behind the curtain today
the frozen, cold moments sped away
the heavy burden days disappeared.

Half comfort
half happiness
thus, surprise
laughing
smiling
Goosebumps
admiring
In these eyelids
(is)You!


Rough translation/transcreation Julia Dutta & Kanchana Natarajan





Credit:

More lyrical scribbles
:

Note:
I wish to thank Coffeebeanzone for the permission to reproduce the song here with its translation from Tamil to English for a wider audience. I would like to admit, that the song has haunted me for the last one month so much, and evoked the transcendental in me, so much so, I could have left the world and gone up to the Himalayas for good, if not for you, dear reader, who dwells in my heart and for whom, I write my blog. Thank you all for listening, reading and your silent appreciation, which continue to show in the stats :)


Thursday, November 14, 2013

Stop being so butch!

I am sure, you have by now, aligned yourself to the realities of the Susan chronicles. If not, after you have read this post, do please stop by and read. (See below).

There is absolutely no reason why anyone, worth their salt in terms of wanting to break out and form their own social group, should study Sociology in India. You may want to know the reason why.

After spending a lifetime fighting the system and trying to set sail on her own, our protagonist, Susan, highly empowered by Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged and her well endowed Sociology teacher at college, she decided that if Dagny Taggart of Atlas Shrugged could do it, so could she. She broke all rules including the biggest one called family, and formed a single unit, all by herself, only to get lost in the maze of the family once again. When she went back to her teacher many years after, because she could not forget the impact her bosom made on her, and many of her friends lurking around in dark and dingy corridors, her teacher could not place her in her mind.

“But I was your favourite student, wasn’t I whom you pursued to do my Masters?” Susan interrogated feeling rather annoyed to have lost her place in her teacher’s mind.

“Oh of course,” her teacher quipped, ‘I have a favourite in every batch. Besides you went on to do your Masters in real life. That is real Sociology.’ Susan was dashed!

Imagine, dear reader, having come a long way, all Susan heard was a list of students who had married, had children and were one big family just like her teachers. Her teacher confessed she could not relate to the one Susan had been telling her about – the life of a single woman, singled out in society, living in a maze of other families, all going along as life should be, going with the flow! There was Sunita, getting married one day, and Krutika having a baby the next and Mala becoming a grandmother on yet another occasion, it was evident from the scene around her, that Susan had got it all wrong, in the first place. What made it worse is that the family of ‘singletons’ coming together to make one big family, all single, but not ‘paired and cohabitating’ in the real sense of the term, had also taken a nose dive somewhere and got all mixed up, in butch and femme talk and landed in the bed with dramatic consequences – Who is going to be the man? And if one was a ‘man’, was ‘he’ going to read the papers all day and not participate in household chores? The argument can go on and on, but in a nutshell, getting out of one accepted structure and evolving another often undergoes a ‘me too’ first, which is exactly where, Susan’s problem was. Clearly she had not got out of one, only to walk into the other, where the figures dominating the unit, were clearly butch and femme, with defined roles which sometimes went out of hand.

“Are you not supposed to be that docile doormat, lady in waiting? But you are showing me a side of yourself, you never displayed while we were courting? You are like a man!”

“I am not a man! You are the man, but you behave like a woman!”

Let us not go into the philosophical angle of such discussions. Suffice it to say that gender is fluid and what you might be and feel this moment, may not be the same the next. There is no argument on this. Did we not hear about this highly philosophical adage, change is the only reality and this too shall pass?

Susan is in a mess. The more she has tried to get out of the system, the more it has followed her. Breaking out has not been easy, but what is harder for her to accept is that the brand new ‘family’ she was planning to make, consisting of singles only, has eluded her so far and again and again, she is at crossroads, which one to negotiate is always a tough choice. Most often one that makes her bounce back to where she started from.


Needless to say, there is going to be much hullabaloo on the 24th in India’s capital New Delhi and many are going to walk the streets demanding, their place under the sun and rejoicing in it. Susan is contemplating joining them, but she is wary and wants to know, whether they have really broken the cast, really, or are they all going to scream and shout in broken voices like adolescent boys, the winter having caught their throats nicely.

There is a plus, in all this though, Susan has concluded. While the rest of Delhi is busy getting married, having children, grandchildren, and going with the flow, the Delhi Pride March may let out a big sneeze, and many of its traditional junta might catch the cold!

Even then, there is a disturbing voice nagging behind her.

“Don’t be so cock-sure and stop being so butch!”



Stop by to read: The Susan Chronicle I



  Video credit: Queer Ink

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Uma Chakravarti, a larger than life picture

Dr Uma Chakravarti at home
These days she sees the world through the lens of the camera, bringing to life, the larger picture behind a person. She evokes in the minds of the viewer, the memory of women, lost to history. 

When she was born, her grandfather, an astrologer by choice, had predicted that she would lecture a lot. 

“..now this is interesting,” she laughs, ‘because all my life, I have done nothing but used words. I do a lot of lecturing, speaking when I have to at meetings and doing workshops.”

Professor Uma Chakravarti, is perhaps one of Delhi’s, indeed India and the world’s best known writer on feminists issues that cover a wide range of subjects. She has worked and written on issues of caste, labour and gender and is active in the democratic rights and women’s movements. 

Born, in Delhi, on August 20, 1941, Dr Uma Chakravarti, hails originally from Palghat, Kerala where her grandfather’s ancestors had been invited to come there by the maharaja of Kollengode. The maharaja had created many agraharams for Brahmins who had come from Tanjore district to Palghat district. They were given 108 villages in return for acknowledging his status as a maharaja, which the namboodiri Brahmins of Kerala had declined to do. 

“My grandfather was a reformist of sorts and wrote leaflets against the practice of kanyadaan (the giving away of daughters in marriage). He questioned the practice. He also questioned the virulence of the caste system not only in words but in action when he invited the entire village to his elder daughter’s wedding but fed the Dalits before he fed the Brahmins, causing the latter to walkout”. 

Uma Chakravarti’s father studied in Palghat and Madras and moved north in 1924, to join the bureaucracy at the bottom level but worked his way up, retiring as Under Secretary. During his years of Service, he was in Delhi and Shimla, the summer capital of the British. Professor Chakravarti, the third of seven children, studied in Delhi and Bangalore. Exposed from an early age to many people from different spheres of life, Uma Chakravarti’s mind grew into a liberal, secular one shaped by the tragedies of the partition and the assassination of Gandhiji by a Hindu fundamentalist, both of which she remembers fairly vividly. An early learning of sorts and observation helped Professor Chakravarti, shape her own way of life. 

Although her father was in the bureaucracy, theirs was hardly an elite upper class home, but could be identified as an upper caste, middle-middle class home with no money for the extras of life. “There was never any money”. Having seen his own mother and sister as widows and dependent on the family, her father was keen to give all his children a very good education and insisted that his daughters were not only well educated but had careers of their own. 

Both at school (Delhi Public School) and later in College (Mt Carmel College), Professor Chakravarti, was not particulary studious but worked hard when the exams came around when even her father would be pressed into service in making notes from the reference books! At home with many siblings, she learned to find her own space and to be independent and self-sufficient. The girls in the family went about freely, just like the boys on bicycles to school and later to college as well. Growing up in cosmopolitan schools, none of her siblings including herself ever saw themselves as marked by a strong regional identity.  Rather, they learned to live with a cross-section of people. Uma’s best friend at school was a Sikh girl Satinder Khurana who hailed from west Punjab at the time of partition. This early preparation, helped to understand, or reason out, some of Dr Uma Chakravarti’s work, in later life, especially her enormous contribution to the oral history of people who suffered the after math of the 1984 Sikh Riots, in Delhi. 

Professor Chakravarti, studied Law formally, but it is her love of history, which drove her to do two sets of exams simultaneously—she went to the College of Law in Bangalore as a regular student also enrolled as a private student in History at Banaras Hindu University for a Master’s degree. The exams were a nightmare shunted between two cities to appear for her exams one after another. 

Although Uma Chakravarti did not become a lawyer, she has engaged with law, reading judgments closely for her writings. It is history which she went on to teach throughout a long career at Miranda House, Delhi University. It was here that she ‘engaged’ with history, teaching it in class and along with a group of really creative teachers in other colleges in shaping the syllabi bringing a new kind of history with a focus on the margins. These were heady years in Delhi University which also was the place from where an engagement with feminist issues began as the women’s movement in the city had its reverberations in the university too. Students and teachers raised feminist slogans in the campus and began serious research in women’s studies inspired by issues that were thrown up from the ground. Uma Chakravarti herself began writing on gender when activists insisted in the early eighties that she use her understanding of history to examine the relationship of culture and tradition to women’s oppression. Her first piece from a feminist perspective was an essay on Sita in myth and literature. A second essay examined the place of women in Buddhism. This was followed by a sustained engagement with gender. The nineties were spent in researching on nineteenth century Maharashtra, especially on the life and times of Pandita Ramabai published as Rewriting History - The Life and Times of Pandita Ramabai (1998). She co edited  From Myths to Markets: Essays on Gender (2000),which was  quickly followed by another co-edited volume Shadow Lives: Writings on Widowhood (2001). In 2004 Gendering Caste: Through a Feminist Lens (2004), was published. All this was of course preceded by The Delhi Riots: Three Days in the Life of a Nation (co-authored) and her own Ph.D thesis Social Dimensions of Early Buddhism (1987)

You would imagine that such an active scholar would in fact be rather somber by nature. The surprise is, she is just the opposite. What drives people to her is her vivacious nature, her laughing face and the pure energy she exudes which is that of a very positive person, very active, both mentally and physically. She mixes the sophisticated intellectuals of our times who values her roots, albeit she may not exhibit it blatantly. Her home is an example of the openness of her mind; indeed as you enter, you encounter treasures from the past, in the paintings and the handicraft that greet you, but you don’t see any door that shuts the visitor away from the rest of the house. One room looks into another and even opens up the kitchen, as if the outer and the inner are one, open.  

Dr Uma Chakravarti can truly be called ‘midnight’s children’, when as a child of only 6 years, she witnessed the partition of India and Pakistan and the aftermath thereof. She has seen the days when, this major happening changed their lives completely. From bread man, to dhobi, to house help, maids, gardeners who came to work in their homes, to neighbours, all became divided into whom you could trust and whom you were told not to. The normal roads that took her to her school, or people to their work destinations changed overnight, to traumatic places, forever guarded and hounded by the Police force, the army and suspecting neighbours. 

“Even as a child, it was impossible to keep away from the trauma of the times; it was in the very air around you.” What as a child, she was an onlooker to, as an adult she became part of the tragedy that finally culminated in her historic co-authored book, The Delhi Riots: Three Days in the Life of a Nation. 

What attracted her to her husband Anand Chakravarti, who is a Sociologist? He was actually her brother’s friend, whose name too is Anand, and had been a visitor to their home in Bangalore.  Later Anand was in Benaras at the Gandhian Institute, at the time Uma went there for her exams so they took a boat ride down the Ganga which was a nice way of getting to know each other and their view of the world. 

“Probably it was the idealism. He was fixated on the idea that society needed to undergo change, structurally, economically, and politically; there was a lot that needed to be done. Although, he came from an affluent background, he was disturbed by poverty and deprivation, which you could see all around.” Straight after her marriage she joined him in Rajasthan where he was doing fieldwork for his Ph.D on social and political changes in the village. 

Anand and she spent one year in the village, studying political change on the ground. Very quickly though they became aware that there is no structural change that was happening at all; the state colluded with the dominant so there was little that changed for those who were at the bottom end of society. Both Uma and Anand have been part of many fact finding teams that have investigated communal riots, agrarian violence, and state repression. During one such investigation Uma describes what she saw:

“As we entered the village, we encountered the body of a young man, whom we assumed had been killed by the police force, but no! We were shocked to know, that he had died because, the family did not have the rupees two hundred that was required for the treatment of this man.”
The callousness of the state towards the poor has horrified them .

Together they have two children, a daughter, Upali who is a teacher and she along with her husband and son, live just above Uma’s own house. Siddhartha, Uma’s son, is older and lives in the US. 

Professor Uma Chakravarti’s contribution to feminist literature in India, is best found in her own works. Relentlessly, over the years she has been uprooting from the buried past the oppressive norms that work against the freedom of women. 

Where does Dr Uma Chakravarti find her relentless strength to write and put forth lives of women, who broke the cast? Perhaps the best summation of the above, is crystallized in her dedication, Rewriting History - The Life and Times of Pandita Ramabai. 

“For my grandmothers Alamelu and Lakshmi, who experienced the routine humiliation of ‘adult’ widowhood, dependence, and a reluctant maintenance from their sons; my aunt Parvathi, who was married at twelve, mother at fifteen, deserted by her husband in her twenties, widowed at thirty-four, mortified eleven years later by the painful death from consumption by her eldest daughter, condemned to replace her as an unpaid domestic drudge for twenty-four remaining years of her life, my father, P.S Doraiswami, who even at the age of ninety, suffered the guilt that some sensitive men have felt at not being able to do enough to prevent the anguish caused to the widows in their families, my mother, Saraswathy, her sister Vijaylakshmi, and their father, P.V. Aghoram, who resisted and broke with the oppressive practices of Brahminical patriarchy so that I and my sisters and our daughters could have a better today…”

This dedication sums up the source of the fire in the belly, in a nutshell. That is also why, the unrest within to go out there, and listen, read, record, wherever, human torture and anguish is crying out loud.

“It was around 2.30 pm, when we heard on the BBC that Mrs Gandhi had been assassinated. The state was still waiting to make it public, as they waited for Rajiv Gandhi to return to India.” The rest is history, but what was not, till she along with her student from Miranda House, made it one, is the oral histories of Sikhs who underwent torture and killings in the hands of the state, in what finally came out as a 658 pages recorded transcription in the book, co-authored with Nandita Haskar, The Delhi Riots: Three Days in the Life of a Nation. 

Excerpts from the book:

“In the night the Pandit came back. He opened the door and told us to run away. But where could we go? There was danger everywhere. I went to my house – everything was looted and burnt. Opposite my house there was a jhuggi with a charpai. I went and hid under the charpai and remained there. In the morning again the mobs came. They were searching for the last Sikh still alive….They dragged me out and were going to attack me…” – Phanda Singh, pg 77.
“I think that T.V had an indirect role to play in creating a particular atmosphere in every drawing room in the city because of the single monotonous focus on the mourners filing past Mrs Gandhi’s body…Do you remember the slogan, “khoon ka badla khoon se” was first heard on T.V? And although we could see efforts being made to quell the slogan-shouters, we were allowed to hear the slogan. I think that was provocative and deliberate you might call it the official signal to go ahead.” – Rashmi Bhatnagar, pg 656

Today, she has changed her language of expression to the visual arts and has already produced two films, one on the life of a child bride who went on to participating in the national movement even though her husband was a salt inspector for the colonial government as depicted in a book, titled “Fragments of a life” by Mythili Sivaraman and the second, a documentary on the life of the author of the book herself, who is slowly losing her memory and struggles to remember her own past. Titled Fragments of a Past, the film is both touching and revealing as it covers the period from 1960s to the 1990s when Mythily worked relentlessly for labouring men and women, documenting their oppressions through her writings most of which she does not remember now.  

Dr Uma Chakravarti’s work as a film-maker, is of utmost importance, as she captures on screen, scenes of lives and happenings that cannot be ever lost to time, or moth eaten, as might be in the case of books. Working with an all women team, representing a wide section of women from all walks of life including the visual arts, her films, will outlive the shorter life of creative material, and stand as testimony of truth. 

Dr Chakravarti lives in Delhi with her husband and is surrounded by friends and family who have been with her, throughout her years. 

Her grandfather may have predicted that she would have a lot to do with ‘vac’- word and speech, but he would have never imagined his granddaughter to have used so many different forms of communication, the blessed spoken word, the written word and now the visual art. 

What a larger than life picture Uma Chakravarti is! 




References and Bibliography:  www.womenswritings .org, The Delhi Riots: Three Days in the Life of a Nation , Rewriting History - The Life and Times of Pandita Ramabai. 

The author wishes to thank Dr Uma Chakravarti for giving her an opportunity to write about her and helping develop this article. Thanks is also due to Dr Kanchana Natarajan for lending books by Dr Chakravarti.



First published in Dignity Dialogue, November Issue, 2013