To Avijit and Rafida- letter from a sidewalk

Deserted and dark
I stand testimony- a sidewalk,
To the blood splattered,
dreams shattered,
the freedom lost..

Outstretched hand,
bloodstained...
she stood alone
guarding her dead life
That lay sprawled
all over me

Rooted in me
Is this tiny life-
All green and strong.
Heroes never falter,
Death remains defeated...
on a stony footpath in Dhaka.

You are planted dear blogger
And grow we all shall..
Fighting back
Writing with might
For you and her.

Written for the bravest woman - Rafida Ahmed Bonna, wife of slain blogger Avijit Roy.

Schoolophobia!

Thank you, BlogAdda!

My hands get clammy with sweat. 12.30 PM is always the right time for a parent orientation meeting. The air-conditioner blasts, lots of noise, but no drop in temperature. The soaring mercury and humidity makes me look a zombie in motion. A lone trickle of sweat runs down my temple and I sit unperturbed by the monotonous lecture of the coordinator. 

All around her are the charts with depictions of how to study or how to make your child run that extra mile. Vibrant hues of pink, yellow and blue charts with strange signs and stranger language smile at me. I shake my head to concentrate on what is being told and fail miserably as usual. I, of all poor students, the one who always chitchats in the classrooms, sit in stoic silence, unable to comprehend the figures and percentages unwind around me. I feel a kinship to Robert Bruce, a myriad web of marks and percentiles woven in my dull head and the coordinator my spider, trying to spruce me up in the cave of learning.

The charts depicted saying all about mindspark, image minds, Olympiad training, internal assessment, group dynamics, open book assessment, value based questions; the lecture explaining 60+40, 120+60, averaging, Formative assessment, Unit tests, Summative assessments...now wait a minute, in all my 36 years of life, never have I felt the paranoid fear of "learning". 

I look around baffled at the other parents, they don't bat an eyelash and dutifully jot down notes of what is being said. Some are busy whatsapping, some working out their monthly budget, some staring blank at the woman with the gruff baritone wielding the mike. All I can do is tear my hair in despair, mentally, of course. Two days of parents orientation meet for the kids in a row- I am hallucinating of gorgoyles and witchcraft. I wish secretly my broom stick would come and time transport me to the wonderful days when all I did was chase butterflies and pick random fights with guys of the class. Life of our kids is seriously in dipshit!

 Schools- the place where we attended classes, cracked jokes, had healthy competitions, ran hot races, ate shared meals and studied once in a while are now run with caustic precision that can put Auschwitz to shame. It is assessment after assessment with clocked accuracy, no sir, no leave for any reason except 'serious' sickness, certified by a paediatrician. ( Russian medical degrees will not be valid here!)You know, our camp ooops...school is bery bery ishtrict!

"We attach lot of importance to sports". Now haven't we heard that before? You want your child to practice a few hours extra in the mornings. No Sir. Ask your son/daughter to run in the midnight inside your 600 sqft flat's 10x10 bedroom. " We are very interested to take your kids for a tour". Now that is a sure dampener. The 'custom made' tour for 10 year olds across the historical forgotten towns of dusty Dakshin will cost you four silk sarees. 'International study tours' of your senior secondary son/daughter can make you place a classified ad to sell your great grandfather's prized half acre farm land.

"We stress on extra curricular activities for the Holistic development of children" means you are going to cough up extra few thousands for a karate course where the child learns the lone upper punch to practice on your sulking face! Or it may be a dramatics course where your daughter will be the 23 rd dancer on the 30th row, shining in her 2000 bucks dance costume, jumping onstage for a school day show!

Gone are the schools where we had the freedom to make paper boats on our own, where we sported garden snakes in ink bottles, where we 'enjoyed' schooling. The schools these days are mere 'broiler chicken' churning chicken farms where we send the eggs to be hatched, chicks moulded, fed with 'knowledge' feed, watered with 'exams and unit tests' and we get the final product- ready to slaughter juicy chicken straight from school, to the corridors of a random IT company!

That would be a math class underway :P

 Where is the thinking ability? Problem solving skills? How are these chicken going to travel the future highway wrought with cut throat competition? Will these automated KFC style chicken stand the race of life? Only time can tell. Until then, it is going to be a mad mad rat race for medical and engineering seats. It is a sad scenario where parents of children who take up humanities and arts streams are looked down as 'under dogs'. 

The scorn and smirk that follow our backs can make us cringe and scrape in despair. It is either EEE or ECE or Computer Science in engineering colleges that dictate the social status of parents. The child has to prove that he is the son of Mr. Ramasamy only by entering an engineering college, not a DNA test, mind it! The pressure that we put on our children to awake, arise and shine in studies is so blindening that we forget that they do have nimble fingers and soft hearts, with lots of love for us. Stoke the love and motivate, let them choose, let them seek and find the direction. Let us not pull them to slaughter houses of broiler chicken. Happy Parenting!

p.s.: I am in love with my daughter ;) Even as I madly type away this post, she is gleefully drawing pictures of Rapunzel from Enchanted, in sheets of paper strewn all around her :)

p.p.s.:  Someone tell me the name of chemical element found in dandruff shampoo...seventh standard science project is to identify elements in objects around us! Effect of doing too much of homework, I guess;)

p.p.p.s.: 

Sex, sleaze and men at work...

I needed a very strong drug to wake me from the reverie. Almost two months without a post, a poor middle aged woman lost in her books and kids. And suddenly there is a bolt of lightning that strikes and here i bounce back from the dream of books and exams. Hearty thanks for bringing me back to the blogging platform Tarun Tejpal and Mr Justice.

It happens everyday in the life of a working woman. Whatever be the age, you are not exempted, ladies-as they infer, "women are like wine, they age beautifully". The sneers, the 'casual' groping, the lewd remarks, that " I am ready for sex anytime, are you ready, sweet heart?" synonymous body language and the 'plastered to the upper body all the time" looks- we do take everything in the stride and pass it with a smile. It is rather brushing off these advances that take much of the energy provided by the half cooked chappathis and fruit diet we take. Ah the bane of Indian working women!

Working in the largest public sector enterprise of our country makes people like me vulnerable to the sexually thirsty and greedy men ( again it is not a generalisation, there are quite a few "taking care of crybabies" type men too!) who arrive in train loads every other day in the offices. To most of the men ( again, please read most as few here, if you are a misogynist) women who sport a handbag and walk in to the offices for a decent living are ready to jump into the couch with any Tom, Dick ( yes, literally I mean the same) and Harry at their whims and  fancies. 

There was this supervisor of a goods terminal who always liked to piss ( obviously he loves to show off what little material he has got!) keeping the unisex washroom door wide open. And mind you, he always forgot to pull up the zipper till he got to your table. Flashing his 'property' to seemingly unassuming an innocuous ladies in the office definitely brought him the thrills. And how did i put up with it? Very simple, report to the higher ups- i still remember every word of my written complaint, got myself transferred and blocked his promotion for almost three years.

And there is this gentleman reservation clerk who always likes to grope and touch women around. Passing a pen to this gentleman would scrap off a few ounces off your fingers. Every time he crosses your chair, he makes it a point to grope somewhere on your back and mumble a 'sorry'. Another booking supervisor made it a point to pat our shoulders and say...you guessed it right-"My daughter...you resemble my daughter". The seemingly plain comment never enters the thick skulls of few fellow lady staff who keep bringing sambar and chutney to the tormentor...So you can pat, hug and squeeze your fellow staff and get sambar and chutney in return! One loud " Don't touch me" yelled at my highest pitch was what made him get yards away from me. And i am happy he remembers to maintain the ten yard away principle even after few years. Fellow got good memory ;)

There was this officer on a night inspection at a station who insisted in opening a closed ticket counter in the middle of the night to just 'peep' in who was working, knowing fully well who has signed the attendance and who was on duty. It took the booking clerk a full ten minutes to explain from behind the door that she is not opening the door at any cost at midnight, whoever be the officer. And there is this gentleman officer who loves to be in 'personal contact' with every 'willing' lady staff. My foot! Power and position...a powerful aphrodisiac that make men feel they can jump into bed with every women with a handbag, provided the 'right amount of pressure' is applied at the right time.

If this is the case with educated and loud mouth women like me, imagine the Class 4 workers, women who come as compassionate appointments. Widows targeted by hawks starting from Union people, welfare section staff, bosses above...the list is endless. Makes me sick. One lady was made to carry 50 concrete slabs to the farthest end of the platform just because she did not succumb to the P.Way Inspector. And she continues to suffer even today. And i am helpless...a bystander.

I wish the law grad brings Mr Justice to the books and Tarun Tejpal is made to understand "no one is above the law". More and more women are opening up and I find this change welcoming...only I wish, i had the resource to nail the offenders around me now... Thanks to the young journo and law graduate- ladies, you rock!!!

Break free!

The social stigma of openly airing one's views on the issues of women is still attached to every one of us. How many of us are willing to openly sit and discuss the menstrual cycle, its physical and emotional effects on a woman in the confines of our home? Are we ready to ask our adolescent girls how they view the peripheral issues covering the menstrual cycle? Or rather how many of us ourselves can openly pronounce 'we are fit' to light the lamps, 'fit' to roam about the house freely and the least of all- dip our hands in that rice bag?

Abnormal Myths- all associated with the very normal cycle in every woman's life. The so- called conservative households still segregate their women during those days, however educated and sophisticated they may be. The entire household knows when you are supposed to get your cycle, in fact there are women who sleep on balconies in apartments! This is when every adolescent girl would like to rest one's head on the lap of her mother...Aren't we denying that simple gesture to our young? One is required to sleep alone, required to self wash the mats, pillow cases, bedspreads, dresses and everything under the sun every morning. It promotes personal hygiene, for sure, I agree. But imagine the plight of women who already have the physical discomfiture of cramps, pain and menorrhagia- over bleeding.

picture courtesy- menstrupedia

And a visit to a place of worship when you are 'impure' is unimaginable. A woman is the best creation of God. How come she is not allowed to pray and visit His Abode during her 'bad' days? The so-called elders had taught us too many 'don'ts' during those days. The rice bags remain a 'no touch' area. How is it supposed to rot when someone in her periods touches it is still baffling to me. The plants and flowers...the garden of our homes are supposed to be the biggest stress busters. When a woman is emotionally drained and physically down, all she looks for is something, anything to make her smile. Flowers- always bring a smile to us. Are we not supposed to go near them? Water the plants? Not wear a new salwar during those days though I had ogled for it? Ridiculous!

If women in the cities by themselves face such inconveniences, imagine the plight of rural women. There is absolutely no education to the little girls on their menstrual cycles that they are caught by surprise the first time. Discussing the normal physical changes in a girl's body never happens at home, mothers seldom educate their little ones. They are totally unprepared for what ensues. The commercials that 'educate' such women on personal hygiene are just 'hooded'.

Sanitary napkins- the issue I wanted to discuss is finally here. The sanitary pads market in India is a multi billion rupee business, with the demand topping a whopping 10 billion pieces per annum. The growth is estimated at 20% in urban areas, quite acceptable. The rural areas still lag behind, with just 7% growth, the main reason being the lack of awareness and open discussions and personal hygiene education. The girls of the rural areas need more awareness of the menstrual cycle and their personal hygiene. I sincerely wish the Women's Self Help Groups of the rural areas are being roped in for this service. As women, we can spread awareness among us, to reach out to those millions of girl children out there who don't have an inkling of what their periods are. The Auroville Village Action Group (AVAG) is one such initiative that has borne fruit in Puducherry. More such initiatives are required to bring positive changes in the otherwise 'closed' communities.

Disposable pads are definitely an environmental hazard, though they boast of being made of cotton, they contain polyacrylate and are rolled from polypropylene, the linings made of polyethylene! All these ingredients can ignite series of health troubles ranging from skin irritation to respiratory infections. Polyacrylate is the main ingredient of latex house 'paints'. Probably we are using a killer that contains the most petroleum by products. And polyethylene the worst of all- the most common plastic that takes centuries to decompose. Can you imagine the single napkin we use takes 800 years to decompose? What are we leaving our children? Mountains of used sanitary napkins untreated. I definitely wouldn't like that be a legacy I leave behind.

Is there any other alternative? Yes!

Welcome to the world of cloth napkins. Simple to use, washable, definitely re-usable and can decompose easily. Our mothers, grandmothers have been using it and let us give them a hearty welcome. Presenting eco femme- an initiative by women, for women and of women. The washable cloth pads are made by the rural women through AVAG, which in turn conducts menstrual education seminars and discussions. Switching over to cloth napkins is something that I am seriously contemplating with right now. The product comes with a wash proof bag to carry them easily, they can be washed easily too. It is not that bad to wash away one's own blood, is it? Soaking them for half an hour can do the magic- simple hand or machine wash later would suffice. Imagine the cost cutting- the reusable pads can be used for anything between three to five years! It keeps us safe from all that petroleum that we are sitting on top of!

Cloth pads by Eco Femme- they look lovely, don't they?

Are you still 'whispering', 'staying free' or 'care free'? What would you use if you are left with options of choosing cloth and disposable napkins? I would like to know. Looking for a healthy discussion on the issue at hand. As women who are empowered, educated and liberated, we have a responsibility to our society- our lesser fortunate women. Spread the message as much as you can and please feel free to discuss. Talking of menstrual cycle and sanitary napkin is not a taboo anymore.

BREAK FREE!

Christmas gift to Tamenglong- Haflong

Picture Credit- Mr Armstrong Pame, IAS

The image above is that of a sick patient being taken to the hospital. Carrying the sick in bamboo slings, children walking more than ten kilometers everyday just to reach their schools, elderly walking with baskets weighing more than 50 kgs on mountain slopes for hours together in leech infested forests...This is everyday reality in the North East. If you thought that India Shines, the living conditions of the people in the neglected states- The Seven Sisters of North East, can put us to global shame.

Enter a new IAS officer as Sub Divisional Magistrate, Tamenglong, Manipur. This young person wants to do something fruitful to his poor and downtrodden brethren. Introducing the first IAS Officer from Zeme- Naga tribe of Manipur- Mr. Armstrong Pame! Mr Pame is now hell bent on his dream project- the Tamenglong Haflong Road- the lifeline road of Manipur, entirely constructed by the people, of the people and for the people. This public- built road will form a tri- junction with Nagaland and Assam over the Jiri river. The total road length is 100 kms of which 70 kms have been completed so far. The work has been entirely done by public volunteers of the area who just want to see a road.

Local volunteers clearing forests for the road with their daos, pic courtesy- govinspire.com

Work was stopped midway and now it has resumed. The stretch of  20 kms is yet to be completed. The total cost per meter has been calculated as Rs. 62. If interested in donating to this noble cause, you may kindly visit the link here and click the donate here button. For any queries kindly contact 09953029135.If you can donate Rs. 31,000, a 500 meter stretch of the road could be named after you! This 90 year old man has donated his pension of Rs. 200 per month for 5 months, so that his children and grand children can use a road!

Picture Credit- Mr Armstrong Pame, IAS

You can check out this website too, an interesting initiative by my dear friend Mr. Nagarajan, IAS, District Collector, Banaskantha, Gujarat. There are many young people in the administrative services who love to reach out to the people and help them lead better lives. It is our duty as sincere citizens to support their drive. Interestingly, the pioneer of the Tamenglong Haflong road Mr. Armstrong Pame has been nominated as CNN- IBN Indian of the Year, 2012! Kindly visit this link to know more about him. You can vote for him here! 

Christmas is the season of giving and kindness. Let us make this our Christmas gift to the people by donating to this noble cause. Let us make our Christmas memorable.This is the best Christmas gift these simple and hardworking people can ever get! 

God says...to abort or not to abort?

File picture of Savita Halappanavar from Irish Times

This is one serious topic that i have been contemplating for a long time. The tragic death of Dr Savita Halappanavar in Ireland has intimidated the long burning rage. Who would have thought the Irish laws leaned heavily on religion- Christianity? The Catholic Church is anti- abortion and the Irish law is entirely based on it. The lawmakers are yet to wake from their stupor. Abortion laws differ from country to country, majority of them making it 'legal on request'. Few states require parental consent in case of minors, but in case of clinically injurious pregnancies, a request by the mother would suffice. 

God has given equal rights of life for everyone and that includes unborn fetus too. True. But does not the mother have the right to live? Why do women have to move from country to country to have an abortion done? The law forbids them from aborting their child in their homeland and so they move to other countries that permit! In case of Ireland, pregnant women travel all the way to England to abort. How convenient! The other side of the Sea permits you to abort whereas Ireland does not. And don't think the travel is easy- they won't let you leave the country if they know you are pregnant! All this in the name of protecting the religion? The country? The women? Who are we kidding?

We condole the death of Dr Savita. Her death has inspired tens of thousands in Ireland to take to the streets demanding revamp in the sections 58 and 59. There is one more dark nation that forbids abortion and we know nothing of it, not even a stub in wikipedia dares speak of it- Saudi Arabia! The Gulf nation prohibits abortions- again in the name of God! Oh God! Have mercy! There are many hushed cases of botched abortions, scores of deaths due to unethical termination of pregnancies and quacks who make a fortune out of these poor women. Those who have the money and means, travel across the border to neighboring Bahrain where it is permitted to abort a child. 

For immigrants and those who have no means, an abortion pill can cost you up to 2000 Saudi Riyals in the black market. There are physicists who stealthily distribute them and there are women who flee the country bleeding profusely after  botched abortions. I know of women who were forced to return back to India to have abortions done. Is it not funny we let the Church and Mosques determine the birth or death of a child or that of a mother? It is sheer irony that the religions that respect the life of a child dispose the importance of the life of a mother. 

It is high time we set rules and laws on our conscience than some religious laws rule us. But then that is how we have been brought up- to submit to the whims and fancies of the religion and the so called virtues it professes. I sincerely wish the Irish Government wakes up to the Savita tragedy and amends its laws. As for Saudi Arabia, all i can do is feel sorry for the women, including the expats lodged there...

Thank Heavens, the Indian Abortion laws, the 1971 Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act still holds good, the clauses are clear and the law categorically states that husband has no right over his wife who chooses to terminate her pregnancy on her own. In case of minors, consent of a guardian is sufficient for an abortion. Though sex selective abortions mar the erstwhile women friendly laws, i feel safe and protected in a democratic nation, than the women of the liberated Ireland or conservative Saudi Arabia.

Save the maids!

Doctors who locked up and starved their maid- Sanjay and Sunita Verma
Image Courtesy- TOI

Today's newspapers have reported the arrest of Doctor couple who locked up their maid in their flat for more than ten days. Locking up a thirteen year old with bread to last a few days and some water to drink is what a couple of educated(?) doctors could do. What are these people? Quacks? For someone who can't even bear to see birds in captivity, this news was shocking. For someone who has had tough luck with maids- i have a long history of run away maids, this news indeed was claustrophobic. Every household these days employ them, whether we like them or not. It is a whoosh whoosh sweep in two minutes, flip flap wash in another five, splash splash dish wash in another five and lo and behold the maid of out of the house before you have a coffee. Some maids work in even five or six households. 


In cities, it is really difficult to spot one of the tribe who is truthful. Good Lord would cross Himself hearing them speak 'truth' after 'truth'! And it would be real magic to see your provisions missing ounce by ounce;) But maids from rural areas who live with in the household is another sad story- some kind of bonded labor! People feel they have 'total control' when they have a maid at home. I have seen maids who sleep in the kitchen, who survive on paltry food and toil for meagre pay. Those advocates of women's empowerment and liberation- can they boast of not having the 'luxury' of a maid at home, sold by a poor family? 


In another case, a domestic help from Thanjavur has been denied leave for, can you believe, 20 years in Saudi Arabia? Mumthas Begam from Thanjavur has been working in a Saudi household for almost 20 years and was last heard from 14 years ago. She has not been paid for 19 years and she is held against her will at her employer's house. Activists of NGO "Pleace India" ( Pravasi Legal Aid Cell) are trying to rescue her. So far, our Government has been silent on the issue. Mumthas has lost all her near kith and kin in these 20 years- her father, mother and brother in the two decades. She is now 45! I am left with no words, but just to feel numb with pain and grief for the poor woman.


 I do sincerely wish the Indian Government takes some serious steps in bringing her back. Maids missing and killed in Saudi Arabia is a much hush hushed news, with Indonesian and Srilankan Governments having strong organisations to deal with such issues. Sadly, the Indian Government is yet to wake up and act. Should there not be a legal assistance from the Government to help such stuck maids abroad? An organisation, perhaps? Please see my earlier post on maids in Saudi Arabia here. Maids are indeed maids, indispensable these days. But they do have a right to live- a basic right to survive with dignity. Of course, i am writing to Arab press to free the poor woman, but who would take up the issue here in India? TOI had published the issue, but i can find no online link to it to link here. 


Let us live and let the maids too, live with dignity.

The Untouchable Women!

Untouchability is a sin. Untouchability is a crime. Untouchability is something that you and i live with, every day. Sorry, we are not living in the caves, nor are we neolithic men and women. We don't even drape leaves and animal skins, but we hold our own women and girls untouchables. Strange, strange...very strange. Ostracizing our own flesh and blood in our own homes, our own sisters and mothers whom we conveniently ignore when they suffer in stoic silence. 

Confusing, is it? Conservative households in cities and villages alike boast of women who spend three days every month alone and aloof. Shunned from entering the Pooja room, spending nights in the most unlikeliest of places- do we ever notice? I had a friend who used to sleep on an empty rice sack in the balcony of their first floor flat, be it rain or shine. And surprisingly she had company- her torn bata shoe and a pounding stick! 

There are little girls who are forbidden to enter kitchens, touch flowers and plants, lest they wilt. Girls are not permitted to touch grain sacks, not permitted to touch tamarind, rice, salt and for that case anything in the kitchen. Funny, they had to carry a bunch of neem leaves wherever they went. And another friend of mine was afraid to look at birds in an empty stomach during those days! Reason- unknown! Even food was not supposed to be left over, the dogs were not supposed to eat that leftovers which gave stomach pain to the girl...seriously? Rolling eyes***( In that case, the dogs would die on the spot, tasting the home made curry!) 

Those happened once upon a time, you could say. No sirs, it happens event today in most households. Only, the untouchability is subtle and snide. The supposedly high and mighty in the class- caste ladders who live only for the upliftment of age-old rituals and traditions, refuse to let women lead lives 'normal' those three days. One of my friend from another religion returned dumbstruck from her neighbor's home scurrying with tears. She was shunted out by her "orthodox" neighbor who had forbidden her from visiting her when she was "suffering" from those three days! What a nerve! Same incident was repeated yesterday when the wife of another friend had been to visit her neighbor. She too was shunted out citing the same reason. This time, the "orthodox" type got her lesson of a lifetime- a sermon on untouchability and discrimination. 

Do they learn their lessons? No. One must visit these advocates' houses who profess 'purest' form of their religion to know how 'pure' they are! A woman's mestrual cycle has nothing to do with religion and God, is what i personally feel. Whom they choose to meet and whom they don't choose to see on those days too is their own whim and fancy. But seriously, would you mind 'seeing' one such neighbor? Definitely, no. When a section of women are gunning for the moon, there are others who spend three days in the balconies and dark crevices of their dwellings. Paradox!

Posters announcing the funcion

If this is the case among the very 'literate' and 'modern' families, their counterparts in villages fare no further, celebrating "manjal neerattu vizha" with full fervor. It is a grand gala festival where posters with the shy and timid bejweled, eleven or twelve year old posing in difefrent attires adorning every nook and corner of the village. Speakers balre songs 24x7. It is eleven or thirteen days of fun and frolic for the relatives, who eat and eat and eat. For those poor souls who don'gt get an idea of this function, kindly view the video link below, depicting the function. 

Probably the goats and hens of the entire village would be breaking in sweat hearing a girl's coming of age! In the past, these functions were held as an advertisement to announce the availability of a girl in the wedding market. That was when girls attained puberty at the age of sixteen or seventeen and they were married off soon. But these days? The practice continues in rural areas. Imagine the plight of the little one who has to face the entire village everyday, later...Does this not amount to cruelty? Celebrating these in the confines of ones' home is one's private matter. But when it becomes a public function, it is ridiculous. It hurts and scars a girl- permanently. Hitting puberty by itself is the most confusing phase of a girl's life. Should we complicate it further? And the periods of a woman can be an emotional roller coaster for her. Why ostracize her and discriminate her? 

I want a female doctor!

Lot of humor posts at a stretch and now i really want to talk something serious. Medicine is one noble profession, that is much sought after everywhere in the world. One in two little kids say with dreamy eyes that they would like to be a Doctor someday. I too had that sky- high ambition till that fateful day i boarded the rail network. You can find a wide variety of doctors these days, starting from the high- end speciality surgeons in super specialty hospitals to those who sell sex pills on late night TV slots. This post is not about doctors as a whole, but a rather sensitive issue that Indian women seldom discuss.

India boasts of thousands of qualified doctors- with Indian degrees and the lesser mortals with Russian degrees. So, how does it feel when you end up in a hospital for delivery and the gynecologist about to examine you is a male? Yes, you read it right- a male gynecologist? Or how it would be to consult a male radiologist for a mammogram? A male radiologist  who examines female genitalia? Though female gynecologists are aplenty, women often find themselves in tough corners when it comes to taking medical help in extreme cases. India is not a country that has limited medical aid and so why should the women compromise?

Genital examination by a male physician, in a 'compromising' position

We are a very conservative society and so it irks me when it comes to women consulting such male doctors in hospitals providing health care, especially in Government run hospitals and departmental health units. You can all it medical ethics, professionalism or anything under the sun, but a MALE IS A MALE! And there are few perverted men who put Hippocrates to shame...You must look at the way they handle their stethoscopes when they check women! The very thought of it is sickening. Will there be a law that allows only female doctors examining and treating women patients when the diseases pertain to gynecology and even breast examinations? Or atleast the patients should have the right to decide the sex of the gynecologist they would like to consult. Nobody is forcing women to see men doctors, but it just happens that hospitals- the super specialty ones that boast of infrastructure, state-of-the-art technological expertise plainly say they don't have a female radiologist. How irritating! Imagine the plight of millions of women who are deprived of medical care, just because they cannot shed their inhibitions in seeing a male gynecologist or radiologist. Is it logical to expect the uneducated and underprivileged women to get medicare?

Of course, the case is otherwise too. It might be unnerving for a few men too, when being asked to cough out and at times a prostate examination by a female doctor also has the same effect. So, why should we put up with something that we don't want to happen? Again, i am not trying to say here that every doctor on the block is sex- starved, unable to control their libido. This is just a plain problem of " Why can't I see a female doctor, if that is what i want?" It would be better if departmental hospitals have male as well as female doctors when it comes to such sensitive physical examinations and treatments. There are Government hospitals and primary health centers that have a single male/ female doctor taking care of everything starting from a delivery to mammogram. Probably that might be the reason why most rural women shun these hospitals.

Let there be no bullshitting saying- this is an insult to doctors of the world and all that blah, blah...How many of you know the unfair advantage doctors take on such unlucky women? Whether there is a chaperone or no chaperone, their sexual apparatus goes on an overdrive, sensing helpless victims. Sexual Boundary Violations ( SBVs) have burgeoned at an alarming rate in India-  which include unnecessary physical examinations, inappropriate touching, sexual jokes with patient, sexual touch and finally there are cases of sexual intercourse too...Read this study published in Indian Journal of Medical Ethics. Unless the doctors try to get their medical ethics right, this problem will be persistent in Indian society. And will the Government bring a bill to say- " Women doctors for women and male doctors for men"??? That is a million dollar question.


Pic courtesy- wikipedia

Women drive me mad...

The afternoon sun blazes by and i race past in my bike, trying to concentrate on the road. My thoughts are somewhere, when i catch a glimpse of raven black hair billowing near by. The girl in the scooty jizzes past with her thick locks flying everywhere, some whipping my face in the process...Achoooooo! I send out a sound sneeze and my bike almost threatens to topple down. Damn! These girls...I grit my teeth. What probably increased the irritation was not the sneeze, but the vision of waist length straight hair blowing out from under the cap. Fuming in indignation and helplessness- my locks never grow down the nape, they cling strongly to the skull and refuse to grow, just like my own self!

Pic courtesy- bikeratheart.com

It is pretty scary when i see women with lose locks fluttering who whizz by on busy roads. By the way ladies, how do you manage to untangle the frizzy hair when you reach home? There is another tribe who cover everything, starting from hair to the finger nails to toe nails. Probably they escaped somewhere from the Middle east- every millimetre of their body covered. The hair- i seldom see beyond the dupattas draped as odnis, the face- half covered by a BIG shades, probably a gift from cunning boy friends- who ensure the entire face of their sweet hearts is never visible! The rest- is covered by dupatta as usual and the gloves that cover the hand upto the forehand looks kind of funny! I feel like roaring in laughter when the dusky darling reveals her face- reaching her place...All this pain to maintain this complexion, dear? Ufff...women and their vanity...

The worst thing about women who drive is the flowing dupattas...Some let it lose, just to gain some space to drive! Afraid that these nooses will strangle their necks, men maintain careful space when these flag-dupatta girls drive nearby! It was shocking when i watched two such episodes when such dupattas caught up with vehicles nearby and the ladies rolled over...We must probably ban the dupatta costume for women who drive. And the speed with which menfolk rush to help the women who fall off bikes will put any social worker to shame! Quicker than lightning, i must say!

It might take two minutes to tie our hair in a tight bun or pull it as a ponytail. We need safe drivers on road, not Rapunzels! And as for the over-doing girls who cover everything- please do cover your tops with the shawls- they are meant only for that...Save the poor guys from falling into pits, seeing your attire. And another kind request- do wash your scarves and gloves atleast once a year- every Diwali, may be? I detest it when you use it as your personal suffocant in terms of emergency. A pepper spray might be decent! Above all, we are driving to reach a place safe and without hassle. Our ride is not a race to showcase our driving prowess! Drive cautiously and responsibly!

Moving to Afghanistan...

Why don't we move? To Bangladesh? Or better still, to Afghanistan...Taliban warlords are far better than our Planning Commission Members. Now you know where Cloud Nine is headed to! The most adored man by economists of India, only next to Mr. "Mann"mohan Singh is our M.S. Ahluwaliah. Born with silver spoons and educated in Oxford- all our Indian economists share the same traits, don't they? And what is it with bureaucrats who always think they are "above ordinary"? The moment they sit on those turkey towel clad cushion chairs, these men do have that special "aura" surrounding them!

Pic courtesy- wikipedia

This is a personal invitation to Mr Montek Singh Ahluwaliah to live in Attaiyampatti and Alamarathupatti. I would be glad to provide him and his army of 'book-bug' economists Rs. 26 every morning and see how he survives. A cup of tea in the morning costs Rs. 5, breakfast Rs. 10, lunch Rs. 20...ouch...no money for lunch Mr Dy Secretary! And dinner- forget it, gentlemen! So what do 'aam admi' do for his other expenses starting from housing to education, including medical expenses? Sugar costs Rs. 30 a kg and cooking oil costs Rs. 90. "Aam admi" is lathi- charged in PDS shops where serpentine queues swell into unruly mobs, all to receive a kilogram of lentils at Rs. 40. I would love to hog tie the Members, Planning Commission and make them stand in my PDS queue every month to buy rice, wheat, sugar and oil.  

And what about our poor two- wheelers? They are parked at our doorways gathering dust. Who will check the price of petroleum? Probably we ought to find alternate source of energy to run our vehicles- why not half RC Whiskey for a ride of 50 kms? Works out cheaper than a litre of petrol! And you can have a 'tipsy' drive too! The cost of housing has sky-rocketed in the cities so much that at the rate of Rs 26 and Rs 32 a day, we can buy a duplex bungalow in posh localities...Dear babus, come out of your Government allotted bungalows and spend a day in our humble abodes. As austerity measure, why don't we slash your pay packets? We ought to make rural service and 'ordinary' living a compulsion for these Planning Commission Members. 

Pic courtesy- cartoonindia.com

"Aam admi" has taken enough of all these...After all those white kurta- dhoti clad politicians, it is now the turn of Bureaucrats to intimidate the poor man. Sad to say, the hide is so thick for our 'aam admi' that he can take anything! So, let us cut short our dhotis, diet every night and walk everywhere. Or better still, we could have Afghan visas stamped in our passports and move on...I hear petrol in Afghanistan is cheaper than India!

Look up, i say!

Men...ahhhh...this is one intriguing subject that i can ramble on and on for ages. When it comes to looks, they are just mind- blowing. Not the way they look, but the looks they give every moving being with extra weight on the torsos. Men- any variety- be the uber cool or the conservative introverts, the super smart or the plain ordinary, the eyes and the power they have enthrall me. Not the para psychic power that can bend spoons and plates, the magnetic power that can make any woman bend inwards and hang her head in shame...All these pieces manufactured with the main chip programmed to envision only the 'assets' of women! All stereotypes who start and end a conversation looking 'there' and keep their eyes rooted throughout the entire melee 'there'. 

Though the silicon revolution is catching up in India now, the raunchy hormonal libido of men goes overdrive just at the sight of the assets well marketed by women of all-woods, starting from Aishwarya Rai to Rakhi Sawant. Rakhi Sawant? Oh yeah, the Saint who challenges that every testosterone package will lose virginity to her- including the bak bak Baba! That she can do only displaying her fairly over proportioned assets is no secret...I wonder men 'look' for Rakhi in every woman they could lay their eyes upon. We can happily exclude the minimal exceptions, who like genuine friendship with women and who can keep up the friendship for ages by simply 'looking up'.

Seriously man, did you 'look' at her face, huh???

Indian average male has always been fed and pampered in a male chauvinistic society where women are looked upon..oops, there i go again...as weaker sex. And starting from 'avvaiyar kozhukkattai' ( a secret dumpling made only by women and for women with absolutely no knowledge of men of the house!) to ' those five days', Indian women remain so secretive and subdued. Result- from time immemorial men have been wanting to know what lies beneath the 'package' so much that we have them panting...' choli ke peeche kya hai?' And no wonder they try to use their left and right telescopes ( eyes!) as vernier calipers , deciphering the 'inner nirvana'! The older they get, the peering becomes promiscuous- eye sight problems at forty, you see! I wonder how the hormonal imbalances never affect the 'looking down'. 

It is totally another matter when a woman drops something down. The ' sincere sahibs' try to pick up the pen lying on the floor with their binoculars aimed at you know where...I have seen many women with the mannerism of pulling their neckline or holding their neckline as a drowning man to a stick when bending down to retrieve things! Ah...there lady, don't forget your behind...Roving eyes will already be measuring if it is L, XL or XXL!!! Libido infected men suffering from acute 'looking down's' syndrome will always haunt us. So what do we do, poor women? Simple- give them icy cold stares at the crotches!!! Oh no, one look there and you will have an entire battalion scratching the crotches, looking at you, half eyes closed! Alas...what other option do we have? Just stand up to them and say- LOOK UP!!!

P.S.: I was truly inspired to write this post when i found fellow bloggers Redhanded and Holy Crap taking up the unfair- sex bashing to new heights in blogosphere! Now it is my turn to turn the heat on;) 

Proud to be Indian?- YES!

India's 64th Independence Day- Ah...here comes another holiday, contemplate most of us. This year left me thinking a lot about Independence and the freedom it gave us. I could see status updates in Twitter and Facebook mocking us as Banana Republic, some seriously putting forth arguments for strong Lok Pal Bill and some questioning what freedom implies to us. Team Anna is fighting for a Lok Pal Bill that includes the PM and the Judiciary and i just can't infer if this is for good or otherwise. What ever, 64 years of Independence and what has freedom given us? A country that shines- look at the number of billionaires...astounding. What about the poor and the down trodden? They still hang on to dear life, surviving on meagre pay and with hopes in the eroding system. Who cares, anyway? The metros are bursting to seams with people, bulging with traffic snarls, congestion and pollution where the rat race is the filthiest one can witness. They say it is "Survival of the fittest", a free for all where there are no steadfast rules and no righteousness. All is fair if we survive. That's it. 

India's map, courtesy Wikipedia- areas marked light green not in Indian control

 Ironically, the issue of Kashmir still remains under dispute between Pakistan and us- now China is happily in the fray. We have lost control of 2/3 of that state and are we bothered? Nah! The US CIA publishes a map marking West Kashmir as part of Pakistan and North East Kashmir as disputed with China, we just are too busy with our soaps to even notice it! Independence Day starts at 9.00 am with a march past of children, flag hoisting, few sweets and cutely pinned up flags. Then comes the "INDEPENDENCE DAY SPECIAL MOVIES" on all satellite channels- starting from Avatar ( Ah! the freedom message movie;)) to Munna Bhaai. By afternoon the pin ups end up in the garbage bins, by evening the hotels, restaurants, bars and pubs have brisk bijinez and the day ends with a brawl and a hearty snore for many of us. Again next day we start honking our horns, spitting our paan everywhere and pissing at every vantage point! Ahhhhh...the freedom to piss at any place you like- that is reallllllll freedom, ain't it?

This year, i happened to be in India after almost three years for Independence Day and was shocked to see the rituals remained the same. It was an extended holiday clubbed with Saturday and Sunday and people made the most of it by thronging picnic spots. I must count myself lucky- i accompanied my little ones to their school for the Independence Day celebrations. Memories from a distant past of my school days, where i hated standing for parade in the hot sun came flooding. As the function progressed with tiny toddlers marching and my little ones participated in a tableu as soldiers i was impressed...The little ones that were supposed to be dead started scratching the ground, bored, obviously! Gandhiji did not like being seen semi- nude in public and he was wailing...Another little one was pointing the gun towards himself and firing! Watching the entire tableu was total Fun with a capital F! 

Scratching the floor- bored!

Look at the kid in the centre- " I point my gun only at ME!!"

 

 

Mummy...i want my shirt...hmmmmm...

There is light at the end of the tunnel, right? The little ones- the Young India! Change is what we are looking forward now- a change for the good, a change that can illuminate the lives of millions in dark. An economic growth that embraces both industrialistaion and agriculture, adequate rural infrastructure development and above all a corruption free nation. Whether Team Anna achieves the Corruption Free India goal or loses the battle to black monied politicos, there is still hope for all of us- we have a new generation of energetic children- our future. Let us inculcate proper values in them and we shall see India really SHINE, in a few decades, perhaps...

Dirty dark Tamils!

Oh really? I stand before the full length mirror trying to figure out if i really am dark. The darkophobia of those fair and lovely days are back again with a bang! I try to switch on all the lights and check for changes in the result- obviously, drawing a flack. I loved to retort when someone said i was dark, as i was only "dusky". My teen age dreams were always filled with visions of me bathed in milky white complexion. Poor Dad! If he had accounted the Fair and Lovely tubes his darling would have bought, he might have ended up with a heart attack! Ah! Fair and lovely- the God sent magical potion that is supposed to convert Obama to a white man!

Image courtesy- mirroremage.com

There are dusky diva friends who apply anything on their faces- right from egg white ( yuck!), papaya paste, multani mitti and even donkey's milk(!) There are others who always 'dove'd their faces- hoping to whiten their skin and another lot who apply face powders so much on their faces, that would put any whitewashed house to shame! It is not uncommon to see teen age bandit queens who cover every micro inch of their exposed skin with anything they could lay their hands on, starting from duppattas, hand gloves, coolers and even rags! People down South are so obsessed with fairer complexion, aren't we? And here comes the rude shocker- one Ms. Maureen Chao stands up and tells us, we Tamils are dirty and dark. Wow! what a remark from a Vice Consul! A round of applause please....There!

Dark- that i can understand, but 'dirty'? All people i know from Down South take head bath every morning. There is one Ms. Cleanomaniac in our office who washes, scrubs and even scales out her hands every time before and after eating. Another one washes, rewashes and does the same tiffin box till the sides start squeaking and pleading her to stop! Taking a head bath every morning after applying coconut oil everyday is almost a sacred ritual to us. Our turmeric, amba huldi ( curcuma aromatica- kasthuri manjal), herbal bathing powder ( personally dried, gound and applied by grandmas) and shikakai- all sweet smelling aromatic cleansers that we use in tonnes- and still there is someone who can say we are dirty??? Conservative Mothers don't even entertain bed coffee sans brushing...

Picture of US Vice Consul Ms Maureen Chao- courtesy google images

Is it the pot calling the kettle black? Nah! It is Chao calling Tamils dirty! Fair skinned foreigners who don't brush, but chew a mint every morning, who shower once or twice a week....my, my...Ms Chao must get her facts right before throwing stones on us. Would it be unfair if we protest against her remarks?  I hope not. Let them call her back- the last thing we need is a racist US Vice Consul in our Tamilian Soil.

Playing the Daddy's game!

As L Junior shouts in her loud shrill voice- " Families are big, families are small", all i can do is smile...Ah! Families...They can be anything- big, large, extra large, cute, bad, loud, silent but they can never be SMALL! I wish i was born to Chin Mun Ho or Hu Jintao even, but not in India. Families in China are uber cool, super small- One family, one child. Alas! our forefathers had nothing proper to do, rather than enjoying their hobby- playing Dad! They loved to play the Daddy's game again and again that catapulted India as a major player in population. Little did the Government do to control the population, that by the time they woke up to reality- a nation bursting to its seams with people, enough damage was done. The machinery got to work overtime to stop Daddy's machineries going on top gear. Pro natalistic attitude took a back seat in the 80's when wherever we went, we were hounded by NGOs and Government advertisements begging us to follow Hum dho, hamare dho. This was of course followed by poor Daddys who found their wallets shrinking. 

 

The symbol of family planning in India

Even as China and India embarked on sterner drives to combat population explosion, Indian families continued their quest for that son who would carry forward the family name. Awaiting that baton bearer, Daddys and Mommys had many more girls on the way. What not did the Government do to stop us? They tried to teach us contraception- the youth hooked on to it instantaneously. They taught us abstinence...What abstinence? Hahaha! We abstained from using condoms. They installed vending machines to sell condoms, they gave tonnes of condoms free everywhere...( so much so that we saw little children play balloons!) but the average Indian male refused to budge.  

Proactive thinkers we are- aren't we? We were advised of sterilisation and vasectomy. Our super egoistic males refused to even listen about vasectomy. As women, we bear the brunt of population control measures- almost 60 to 70% of us are subject to sterilisation, whether we like it or not! Another sizeable amount of women bloat and suffer the side effects of IUDs...all just because, Daddy wouldn't stop his game, or play it safe...Boy, would we love to trade places with men, when it comes to family planning issues. Now comes the morning after pill that finds its way to the most inopportune places- you know where. Even following all these, we are giving a stiff fight to the Chinese, we sure will beat them here. What if we can't beat them at the Asian Games? We can beat them at daddy's game! Go India GOOOO!!!

And following suit is Daddy Beckham...The Beckhams have been branded "bad example" for families. No, no, not because of the soccer antics of Mr Beckham or the fashionista Victoria. It is just because the Beckhams have just added their fourth child to the family.

Poor Beckhams...anything they do, negative press. I say, we give amnesty to Beckhams. We make them our role models in welcoming that baby girl!  We shall send them to Rajasthan and Bihar to educate the importance of girl children. Daddy Beckham must be made Brand Ambassador of Girl Children. Every girl child born will receive an autographed soccer ball from Daddy Beckham and a signature Beckham perfume free for every girl child from Victoria! We Indians are suckers of freebies and so...a soccer ball and a perfume can do the magic of curtailing female feticide and infanticide. Playing the Daddy's game is just cake walk, these days. Who cares about population explosion anyway? Cancun and Copenhagen forgot the issue and so let us too conveniently forget. After all, as per age- old Indian values, " Children are Gift from God- the more, the better!"

Its all about money, honey!

Gold coins unearthed from Lord Padmanabaswamy Temple

Our entire nation is going gaga over two incidents- one our own Lord Padmanabaswamy of Thiruvananthapuram and shooting of thirteen year old Dilshan.  The fascination surrounding the unearthing of Lord Padmanabaswamy's bounty keeps burgeoning day by day. As vault after vault is opened, Mittals and Ambanis are losing their sleep over how a tiny deity in a dilapidated temple could hide thousands of crores worth treasure for centuries! Ah! Mallus and their fascination for gold is reasserted once again to the whole wide world! ( Mallus please excuse this comment from a Pandee!)

Lord Padmanabaswamy, Thiruvananthapuram

The assets unearthed so far from Padmanabaswamy's secret vaults reads 500,000 crores today with one more vault to go. Poor Lord! Now that his assets will be valued, slowly pilfered and scratched, we will never hear of it in a few more days. We, the Indian public, have mastered the art of forgetting anything that is of national importance. See, we already forgot about the crores and crores booted out from Shri Sathya Sai Baba's abode. Anyone ever heard of it again??? The best part of Lord Paddy's episode is the staunch refusal of the Travancore Royal Family to stake claim to the treasure unearthed. Promptly called Padmanaba Dasas, the current scions of Travancore Royal Family have expressed their desire to safe keep the treasure in the temple itself, close to their own Padmanabaswamy. Wishful thinking- Can we pay back our World Bank loans with this treasure?

Dilshan, 13, shot dead by retd Lt Col. K Ramaraj

And how does it feel when you come to know a thirteen year old boy shot dead for plucking almonds from a tree in Army enclave?  Dilshan and his friends plucked almonds from trees inside Army Officer's Enclave. Retd Lt Col Kandasamy Ramaraj, who considered the boys a nuisance in the peaceful Army area, shot him dead. Simple, cold blooded murder of a thirteen year old boy, who wanted to just pluck some almonds. And to think people mature with age....*sigh* And again, the retd Lt Col will fade away from limelight in a few more days.

What irks me is the contrast of our society- a deity that owns tens of thousand crores of gold and an innocent thirteen year old shot dead for a few worthless almonds...To Hell with equality in society and all are God's own children. East or West, Lord Paddy is the BEST! Its all about money, honey!!!