Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Flesh and Blood


She sighed, the last drop of motherhood
cleaned off of her, cleansed in the ritual
of medical precision.

A boy! She heard the doctor say; a sting
of love meandered unwelcome, reaching
maritime deep of denial.

Minute of minute indecision held sway
the pristine anguish; unwilling synapses
firing in rapid pulses.

A tear rolled down, burdened by the pact
carefully undone in destiny, resigned to
the validity of her sign.

Outside, his blissful parents cooed in love
abundant, echoes of absolute affection,
oblivious of the womb.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Names

You call me a nothing, an
object; frigid or a whore.

Them flat as a pancake,
ear warmers, flesh pillows.

Snort at the astronaut's
wife, whistle at the babe.

Am a bad girl or a good
wife; a slave or mistress.

Snooty, arrogant; if you
pass by and i don't care.

My box in open fantasies,
shut in your wilful reality.

Bad kitty purr on your lap,
slut if pick anyone but you.

Everything good and bad;
hot and not, lovable and
hateful, but never.....

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Ghost

If
I could breathe for you,
would the chains of our
regret,
fall apart; asleep in time?

A
sigh of your cold heart,
reflecting blue in tender
agony,
untold, whispered to me.

May
I seek your trembling soul,
kiss the whimpering hurt
restless,
twisted, forsaken by her?

Your
voice echoes the insanity,
reverberant, catatonic;
seeping
through my unwilling ears.

The
years, crowded with much
more than that moment,
sigh
as my tears cry in your pain.

Am
your ghost, forever a shadow
creeping into your existence,
breath
of relief as you laugh with her.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Shoot


He talked.
not about flowers or the enchanting
snow falling on perilous mountain
slopes.

About the
sting of excitement as the bullet left
his gun, poised in numb anticipation,
serene.

He saw
the fall, gutted remains tangled in the
mangled screams of a startled family,
descend.

I asked,
if he felt the hit; life hesitantly escape,
unceremonious from target’s stomach,
spill.

He laughed,
parable of a soldier’s duty, wrapped
cozy in trained reflexes, structured to
kill.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Educating Girls..


Hundred International Women’s Days have been celebrated, a Socialistic movement turned into a universal movement. There have been many analyses and critiques churned out in the past couple of weeks. Some illustrating how far women empowerment has come since Women’s Suffrage and how much more gender equal our societies have become while some have carefully pointed out the flaws and the deficiencies in the present scheme of things. I intend to do neither. There have been times when I have asked myself if automatic Universal Suffrage was a bad idea in India. We never had a Women’s Suffrage movement. In fact apart from pockets of resistance on social issues regionally, we don’t even realise that women make up half the democratic base in India. But I woke up today asking myself a specific question- what is the failure of Women Empowerment in India? There was only one example which came to my mind.

 A couple of weeks back, the baby of one of my closest friends came down with measles. The immediate concern of hers  was if she would be able to tend to her child, because measles is associated with a goddess and my friend was about to have her period- an educated woman fearing god’s wrath and being ready to not tend to her sick child.

In a nation where roughly only more than half the population of women is literate, it is a crime that educated women hold on to such dogmas in the name of tradition and culture. True, a person has the right to practice his/her faith. But it should stop the moment when faith encroaches on common sense and science. Education is supposed to set a person free. There is a quote which has been used often that “If you educate a man you educate a person but if you educate a woman you educate a family.”. But, what if the education stops at the gate to her house? When an entire community or society tells her that her common sense colliding with faith is not permissible, she resigns her brain in faith’s and tradition’s favor.

Women in India go through a lot. From the very first step to the last breath. A woman of the general population has to let go of her dreams in order to fulfill the obligations that ‘culture’ bestows on her. Religion just adds insult to the injury. I draw my line at being told by people that I am not worthy of entering god’s abode because I am impure during ‘those days’. Menstrual blood is even a source of endometrial stem cells. Imagine that. Yet, I am impure because the scriptures say so. I, as a woman of more than 12 years of formal education am perfectly satisfied at being treated like a cow. I, as a woman of more than 15 years of education still have to wear a burqa in the hot and humid climate because my faith tells me to. I, as a woman doing her PhD still do not believe condoms are to be used and I believe abortion is a sin, because my priests tell me so. 

Reason is not a sin, it is not a crime. On the other hand, not using the right to inquiry that evolution has so graciously gave us, is indeed a crime. If you evolved into a human being, it means you are naturally inclined to ponder over the restraints imposed on you. This functional disability imposed by religion as a mental set is not natural. It is simply a power-play. Women have the capacity to make or break a society. If you keep my thoughts chained, you make sure that I breed docile human beings into the next generation. But on the other hand, if I break free, I am a threat to the status quo, to the social collectiveness which ensures a smooth flow of functioning. And yet, I, the woman of the 21st century, need to be shaken by my shoulders and taken out of my trance by another human being. Even then, I refuse to go beyond the ‘wisdom’ that I shouldn’t refuse my husband sex or go on birth control. 

That right there is the failure of women’s empowerment in India, ie, educated, enlightened, tech-savvy women of today not being able to shake past their religious beliefs to lead more fulfilling lives. What is the use of putting the girl child through school then? We campaign for pro-choice, we stand steadfast asking for 33% reservation, we shout against honour killing. But real change begins at home. Unless I am able to tell my parents that they are wrong and that I am going to tend to my sick child no matter what, we as a society are doomed.

Are there any ways out? YES. Girls need to be taught to be proud of their bodies from a young age. They should be made aware that breasts are natural and menstruation is nothing to be ashamed of. If a young girl is confident of her body, it is inevitable that she will question every process which tries to suppress her as a woman. That is how educating girls should move forward. Simultaneously, she should also be equipped with the support system to jeer back at the boys who giggle when she has to be excused from a classroom to change her sanitary pad. When she is told that she cannot attend an auspicious ceremony because of her ‘condition’, she must have the courage to ask why it is so. She should develop a sense of ‘I’ enough to question why her hair should be covered in church and why it is her shame that men become enticed by it. Education must prepare our girls to develop that faculty of questioning which religion suppresses. I would pity a nation full of educated women who are like my friend. 

Remember, culture and traditions are not something that sprouted into existence all of a sudden. They are something which continue to evolve. Either you, as a man or a woman can contribute to its progression in a more egalitarian and socially sustainable manner or you can watch the disintegration and destruction of every fundamental right at its root. In simple words- do or die. The choice is yours.      

Friday, March 04, 2011

Left Out in a Right World.


When somebody asks me if I am in my right mind, my immediate response is to give a slightly smug grin. You see, I am left handed. So, technically, yes, I am in my right mind. Moving on from the pedantry, this story is about my left hand and how it is discriminated against for not being right.

If I am discriminated against in my society, it is for possessing two attributes of nature. A womb and my being left handed. It began one fine day when my teacher told my parents that I used my left hand to write. Alarmed because it wasn’t the normal way, they set on a quest to make me write with my right hand. Ultimately, as all naïve subjects of coercion and conditioning, I began to write with my right hand. And still do. I am aware that I have the right to choose.  But still I am conditioned to continue. Shaking off my habit of writing with right would take an immense effort which I simply am too lazy to employ. 

My parents finally admitted their prejudice when I began to show signs of creativity. Suddenly they began telling everyone that it is only natural because I was left-handed. (Why exactly are people so interested in normalization of traits?)Also, I was clumsier apparently. Do any of the righties have any idea how hard it is for us lefties to navigate in a world designed specifically for you? Talk about oppression by majority. Even the scissors and my computer mouse are for righties. If I used my left hand for opening the refrigerator door, I will be disoriented just by getting it done. Sadly the modern world is designed for righties, not us poor ambidextrous beings who, in order to fit into the world, had to learn how to use both hands without a choice. But it is not like we complain about it; after all, righties are the majority. We have learnt how to live with our difference.

But what makes me amused is not the (im)practicality of my attribute, but rather the social ruckus associated with it. Since ‘left’ is associated in many cultures with everything evil or off, I am not allowed to do auspicious things with my left. Sometimes people ask me to give them money with my right when I do so with my left. Time and again I am asked not to serve food with my left hand. It is only by default that I extend my right arm for a hand shake. Every single thing that I do which is simply a part of my functionality is discriminated on the basis of being a leftie. A person who observes me can understand that I get irritated if I am holding the phone with my right hand for more than thirty seconds talking to someone or that I gesture more with my left hand or that I even am not comfortable brushing my hair with my right hand too long. It is a part of me. Yet am told again and again that that part of me is ‘inauspicious’. A tenth of the world’s population is left handed. There is no study to indicate that our society has any lesser proportion. This means that roughly more than a hundred million of us are struggling to fit into a society which wrinkles up its nose at lefties using the ‘dirty’ hand.

It also doesn’t help that most left handed people fall into a pattern of unconsciously fitting in and apologize whenever they very inauspiciously use their left hand. They have to realize that they don’t have to feel bad when someone asks them not to eat with their left hand. Like all majoritarian oppressions on individual expression, the identity of being left handed is slowly drained out and substituted with what is ‘right’. It stands out as yet another social construct which involves our body in which one half of it is considered unclean or sinister without any science behind it. Seems to me like human beings are designed to be hedonistic about the cultural relevance of their bodies, no matter what that part brings to the person as a whole. 

Hence, I am unfortunately tempted to close this post with a very ‘hand-ist’ quote from The World’s Greatest Left-Handers: Why Left-Handers are Just Plain Better than Everybody Else by James T deKay and Sandy Huffaker: “Left-handers are wired into the artistic half of the brain, which makes them imaginative, creative, surprising, ambiguous, exasperating, stubborn, emotional, witty, obsessive, infuriating, delightful, original, but never, never, dull.”

And you try to make us fit into a crazy world by making us duller. Ironic.

Wednesday, March 02, 2011

Breathe


As the vacuum of
eons desiccate your being,
tossed bruised, armageddon
of terrifying, plastic vitality…

In perpetual regard
for the sanguine alliterations,
immersed deep down; tense
coagulated plurality of love…

When crimson petals
seethe in lurid terror woven
of passive inquiry, resistance
aborted in pregnant sighs…

Breathe…