About the Women Against Feminism movement and why it is a good thing

First of all, a brief history.

So this happened:




Which led to this.

Then someone did this and made my day:



Meanwhile, this girl:



grew up to do this:

Naturally, someone responded with this:

And it goes on, with stuff like this, this, and more.

So now that you're up to speed, I'll tell you why as a feminist, all this Women Against Feminism (WAF) business really warms my heart.

First of all, let's take the general grouse everybody - WAFs, chauvinists, orthodox people and men at the receiving end of radical feminism - have against the F word: feminists, they say, in protesting the injustice against women often swing to the other extreme and get unfair to men.

WHAT? Feminists aren't always fair? That... is... so....;

true.

Yeah, there are men-haters, there are women who either in their zeal for service to a true cause, or meanness of their heart, or as a vent against the terrible life they've had, or maybe because they were dropped in a vat of man-hating potion as babies, err too much in the other direction.

Basically this guy with boobs.
Image courtesy: www.comicvine.com

At least I believe there are. I live in a country where a lot of women have never heard of feminism, and the idea of equality between the sexes would be alien to a lot of men as well as women. So the discourse on feminism that I have been exposed to has been substantial, based on some unfortunate realities. I haven't come across a feminist who wants to go about neutering all the men in the vicinity just for the kicks.

I'm making a POINT, people!

But my heart goes out to the men who have suffered blatant prejudice, hatred and abuse just because of their gender. To them I say, "Welcome to the club. We know how it feels."

No, I am not trying to justify the wrongs of the radical feminists on the basis of centuries and centuries of injustice meted out to women. The unfortunate fact is that every social and political movement in history tends to overcompensate the injustices it sets out to fight with equal and opposite injustice. In A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens views the French Revolution through the intimate lens of a family that finds itself on the wrong side of the class divide both before and after the oppressed classes rise in arms against the aristocrats. Without taking away from the pain and struggle that the revolutionaries had to go through to steel themselves for such a massive uprising, the novel draws focus on how innocent lives get crushed in the battle between the classes. And this was a century and a half before 'collateral damage' became part of popular vocabulary.

In India, caste and religion today have become political identities vying for the biggest piece of the power pie, while the people in whose name the wars are fought continue living under conditions unimaginable to anyone who can read a calendar.

The examples are endless, although none of that justifies that someone calling themselves a feminist should expend their time and energy to add more misery to the world. That is not what feminism set out to do.

The story of social and political movements however, does not end there. The pendulum of social justice keeps swinging until we arrive at some semblance of balance and equilibrium. In Indian politics, this should mean a Utopian future where caste, religion and language no longer define who you are and what is possible for you. When that happens, and I'm one of those optimistic fools who believe that such things can happen in the world, caste-based political parties, reservations, honor killings and stupid politicians will become redundant. It might be a very boring future, because comedians may then have to make jokes about food, but then I'm confident we'll have invented new social evils to keep ourselves amused.

For feminism, the idea of Utopia is a world where your gender does not define what is possible for you. Sure, men will still not be able to have babies, and women will still bleed every month, but beyond the actual biological differences, the forced differences between genders, based on qualities perceived to be feminine or masculine owing to centuries of conditioning, those would be gone. Women will fix their own cars and men will wash their own cups. And feminism will become a meaningless term.

The reason I think WAF is a good thing is simply that I see it as a sign of such a future becoming a reality. If you read through the reasons some of those women are citing for not needing feminism, you'll see that feminism has done its job for them. One woman - I couldn't find that image at the time of posting this - wrote a lengthy sermon on how she treats her sons and daughters equally. The lady in the video above argues that her grouse isn't against the dictionary definition of feminism, but how it actually manifests in the lives of those around her.

This is all very good, for three main reasons: 

1. Like every important social movement, feminism needs to be closely observed, critiqued and held accountable for its actions. Denying this right to anyone, however enlightened or ignorant they might be, goes against the grain of feminism. Also, if some women do not want to associate with a certain label, it is their choice and they are under no obligation to educate themselves on the subject. If they change their mind however, we'll always be right here, quietly burning our bras.
2. At the very least, the WAF movement has sparked off a debate on feminism as it stands today. It is a good opportunity to redraw focus on some of the real issues that make feminism a necessity. Also, if there is the slightest truth in any of those accusations, the feminists may want to take a step back to reassess their priorities and perhaps distance themselves from supporters who may be harming the cause by citing feminism in the wrong context.
3. But most importantly, the very fact that there are women, however few, however hated by the Internet, who really, sincerely think they don't need feminism, who feel they have everything they want in life and don't need to fight for anything, who take their voting rights for granted, who have never known a world where their intellectual capabilities could be judged on the basis of the kind of genitals they were born with... then hurray! Mission accomplished. May I live to see a world where feminism becomes a joke, where its real function will have been fulfilled long ago.

As of now, we live in interesting times. There are more and more male feminists - I know some of them right here in India. There are women standing up for men, and since they have the platform to do so, I take it that these women have received the education, financial freedom and intellectual choice it takes to upload a YouTube video. This may be true only for a tiny number of women in very few countries, but it is happening. The pendulum is swinging back, and it is slowing down near the middle.

Mumbai diaries #1

I'm going to Pune for the weekend, so this morning I came to office with a huge bag containing the week's laundry. Don't judge me, my washing machine is still in Pune and my bathroom here is still confused about its job description, so it keeps pouring water on the outer side of the door. Till ol' bathroom figures out exactly where I conduct my business, no clothes are going to get washed in the Mumbai apartment.

Anyway, since there was no way I was getting anywhere near the local trains with that bag in hand, I took an auto. The autowallah was in a chatty mood, talking now about his home town in UP, then about more cost-effective ways to live and commute comfortably in Mumbai. At a signal under a flyover, we both watched a family of under-bridge dwellers, the mother grooming the girls in fine little dresses to mark the occasion of Navratri. There were other kids about, mostly toddlers, some of them nibbling on biscuits presumably given to them by one of the more charitable passers-by. The youngest, a boy less than two years old was toddling around naked, biscuit in hand. This he offered to one of his sisters, sitting pretty in a princess dress, a tiffin container in her hand decorated with a picture of the Goddess on a bed of marigold petals. Wary of the burning incense sticking out of the container, the little guy tossed the biscuit in it for his sister to eat. The gesture seemed to offend the young lady, who quickly tossed the item on the road, where the baked treat remained, ignored by a brood of homeless kids.

Watching all this, a quick giggle escaped the autowallah, who sagely tells me, "there's someone watching over every one of us. They (the homeless family) will all have eaten something by the end of the day."

Remembering a little incident with a Marathi autowallah some days ago, I asked him if he and his fellow migrants still face problems from political goons here. No, he said, 'those guys' had all cooled down, and now they were all living happily together. He further told me that he voted for the Shiv Sena during the last elections, because he respects Uddhav Thackeray, who comes across as a level headed, educated man.

P.S. By the way I've moved to Mumbai. Working for (what else?) a magazine here.

Patriotism sans jingoism: Bedabrata Pain's Chittagong

Sharing your birthday with historical events can have unexpected perks. On the 72nd anniversary of Quit India Movement, the husband and I spent the evening sitting on cane chairs, watching a special screening of Chittagong at the open air theatre on the rooftop of Seasons Apartment Hotel in Aundh, Pune. This was followed by a lively chat with the film's writer-director, the scientist-turned-filmmaker Bedabrata Pain and the young actor Delzad Hiwale who played a young Subodh Roy 'Jhunku' in the film. I couldn't have thought of a better way to celebrate the bittersweet occasion of turning 32.

The film recounts the movement through Roy's eyes, who was the youngest revolutionary in the movement, and also the youngest Indian to be imprisoned at the dreaded Kaala Pani. Narrated in a flashback by the adult Roy, the story is as much about the journey of a young boy from a rich Indian family who gave up on prospects of a comfortable life for a larger cause, as that of a much-chronicled historical event. By training its focus on the reluctant young revolutionary instead of the enigmatic 'Masterda' Surya Sen (played by the ever dependable Manoj Bajpai), Pain has managed to make the story more personal than most historicals of this sort can hope to be.

We first find Jhunku weakly arguing with his childhood sweetheart Aparna that the British aren't all bad people. His opinion is based on the warm relationship he shares with Magistrate Wilkinson, whose wife gives him piano lessons. At the same time, Jhunku is also in deep awe for Masterda, portrayed here as a much beloved revolutionary with clear ideals, a cool head and an ambitious plan. While the ruthless DIG Charles Johnson goes on an arresting spree, rounding up all the known revolutionaries in the area and depriving the genteel Masterda of his trained resources, the latter recruits young boys with clean records and no training in weaponry in an unprecedented coup to take over the British Armoury. After an incident that leaves Jhunku both disillusioned about the British administrators and discredited among his peers, he throws his lot with the rebels. What follows is this boy's journey from being a reluctant revolutionary to a fervent patriot, and later the leader of another uprising.

Like I wrote before, the film remains a mostly personal story. Jhunku's conversion to the cause is triggered by a personal betrayal, rather than lofty speeches, of which there aren't any in this film. During a moment of weakness when he thinks of running away, what holds him back is the desire to redeem himself in Aparna's eyes. The framing device allows Jhunku to tell Aparna his version of otherwise well-known events. The heroes of the uprising - Surya Sen, Pritilata Waddedar, Nirmal Sen, Ganesh Ghosh, Lokenath Bal and Ananta Singh are portrayed as flesh and blood people with their moments of doubt and strokes of inspiration. The planning and execution of the coup too, is seen as a series of strategic problems in the way of a very specific goal. More than one, you find a revolutionary asserting, "this can be done" with the confidence of a bright student presented with a math problem. So when our heroes blow up a railway track and cut off phone lines, the audience can see it as important steps of a larger plan without a hint of Schadenfreude in destroying public property just because it's set up by the evil angrezz.

By presenting events of the uprising without embellishment, the film stays respectful of the inherent heroism in the ordinary people one sees on screen. In fact, I feel very tempted to write an entire post about all the familiar tropes of movies about the freedom struggle that Chittagong has smoothly steered clear of. Let me see: The soundtrack by Shankar, Ehsaan & Loy is far removed from the thumping beats I have come to associate with these movies. The production design by Samir Chanda lends an earthy tone without being too in-your-face. The narrative is simple, and never tries to turn the story into some sort of a thriller. There is no heroic posturing, no pigtails-in-black-ribbons, no screeching clarion call to fight for freedom, no Wande Mataram moments. What you get instead is a well-researched, ground level view of an important era in the country's history.

How to love and marry, Indian Ishtyle (plus bonus belated review)

Okay so I finally watched Ranjhana, over a year after its release. The whole stalking-as-love debate that the movie kicked off in the blogosphere really put me off. More than the critics who panned the film, it was the passionate defense from the film's supporters in comment sections that really made the call for me - it just didn't sound like a film I might enjoy.

I was wrong. As a film, it has more than a few strong points. The people in the film and their general conduct, or their thought processes weren't necessarily likable. It takes courage to tell the story of two damaged people, and the script does this coldly and distantly enough for the audience to see Kundan and Zoya for what they really are. The self-destructive path they walk in the story feels like the most natural trajectory for their life given their respective personalities. For all the distaste I feel for the way Kundan goes about wrecking havoc in people's lives, I never felt manipulated into liking him, not even with his cutesy act. It is entirely plausible for a person, especially one with limited education and very little exposure to the world outside a provincial life, to be easily likable and genuinely innocent on one hand, as well as unbelievably selfish and thoughtless on the other.

As for Zoya, she comes across as an intelligent woman with her priorities right and her morals all wrong. Again, a film that is about a person of questionable integrity doesn't necessarily endorse those values. As far as I could see, the film follows the inherent tendencies of Zoya and Kundan to their natural and inevitable conclusion.

So there, I've said something good about Ranjhana. Now for the rants.

One of the recurring arguments put forth by the film's sincere supporters in all their outpourings against critics has been this: if what Kundan does in the film is stalking, how else do you get a girl to like you in a quintessential Indian city? One particular Pro-Ranjhana dude asked a female reviewer to consider how her parents and grandparents went about the pursuit of love and romance, given that the 'western' way of 'dating' wasn't really an option.

Okay, old debate, and the reviewer in question answered to the comment appropriately, but I'll add my twopence anyway. My parents and grandparents had arranged marriages. That's the old, Indian way. There are of course, a lot of people who do not believe in western concepts, as you call them, such as dating, but have gone ahead and married for love in most conservative Indian families too.

So for the benefit of all my Indian brothers and sisters, here are some quick tips to fall in love and get your happily-ever-after, the good Indian way. No slashing of wrists, no terrorizing or annoying people of the opposite sex involved. Satisfaction guaranteed, in that none of you should hopefully end up in a loony bin or a hospital bed.

Option 1
You like a girl/guy, you try to chat them up or have some common acquaintance convey your interest and if they reciprocate, you proceed with romance-wedding-happily-ever-after. If they don't, you move on.

Option 2
You like a guy/girl, you tell your parents to talk to their parents and have a sweet little arranged marriage in true Barjatya tradition. Might involve families setting conditions/challenges a la Alok Nath in Maine Pyaar Kiya before sweet union may be achieved.

Option 3
In case one of the families doesn't approve, get the blessings of the other family, act fast, have a simple wedding, and wait for the disapproving family to cool off. Not recommended if caste/religion are involved.

Option 4
Wait for the disapproving family to have a change of heart. This is a boring, non-film-worthy path that takes a lot of patience and perseverance, tests your love to the extreme, and doesn't leave you with a charming little story to tell your great-grandkids. I mean, no kids want to hear a story where the prince and princess go about their lives for 7 long years before having another traditional Indian wedding. But I've known at least one couple to do just that, and theirs is as true a love as any I've known.

Option 5
You like someone, they like you back but are reluctant to commit due to social restraints, you hang around and try to convince them of the power of love to overcome all obstacles, all the while respecting their boundaries.

Option 6
You like someone, they don't know you exist, you grow up and fall in love with someone you actually know a thing or two about.

Caution:

Whatever you do,

1. DO NOT use any form of letter, social media, phone calls, or any mode of communication that may potentially embarrass the other party in their respective social circles. More importantly, do not use any medium where you'll end up leaving a blazing trail and embarrass yourself, or get into trouble.
2. DO NOT make a fool of yourself. Seriously. It does not look sexy.
3. Not looking sexy is NOT one of the sacrifices you make for true love. Not if having sex anytime in the future is on your agenda.
4. DO NOT use pickup lines out of How I Met Your Mother or any Hollywood/Bollywood product. They don't work. Use your words.
5. DO NOT be a pest. A pest is someone who lingers around another person when the latter clearly does not want them around
6. If someone tells you or behaves like they don't want you around, there's a 99.99% chance they don't. Have dignity and seek affection somewhere else.
7. Have dignity.

All the best, and may you have your happy ending and lots of children and grandchildren to listen to your charming lies.

"You ain't crazy, you're just lazy!"

Does your child suffer from dyslexia? Have the docs been telling you they may have something called ADHD? Or food allergies? Breathe easy, because chances are, these conditions have just been made up by a bunch of spoiled kids and big pharma companies pushing drugs for non-existent conditions. According to this writer, dyslexia and ADHD are meaningless terms to cover for badly behaved or plain stupid kids. Too bad for Aamir Khan, he threw his weight behind the wrong kid-with-problems movie.

The author goes on to suggest that maybe even conditions like asthma might be fictional, because why not? Then our crusader for truth stops short for fear of unpleasant e-mails, but I'll go further. Are you depressed? Stop being lazy and get your ass out of bed. Insomnia? Cut down the coffee and you'll be fine. Bipolar? You're just nasty, snap out of it and behave yourself.

I worked for a Diabetes magazine for a while, and part of my job was to scan the mainstream newspapers for interesting news on the subject, and trace the story to its source in research. Often, I'd come across a grand headline like, "Diabetes? Forget pills, pop almonds!"* A bit of prodding would reveal that the research in question simply suggests that almonds may help regulate blood sugar levels. Not quite as sensational as a miracle cure for Diabetes, no?

This is how most mainstream media approaches research. Spot some interesting drift in some paper in some scientific journal, cherry-pick the bits that have potential to be blown up into something sensational or something to conform to your own rad views, and boom! You have a story. So you'll keep coming across articles that tell you to ditch anti-depressants and eat bananas. The 'research' quoted by our friend at The Spectator probably suggests that a healthy diet could tone down the chances or symptoms of ADHD. I'm unable to confirm right away because our genius author did not find it necessary to share any links. Hell, if readers could look up the facts and form their own opinions, who'd need writers?

So well, if your child has difficulty coping in school, don't treat them with any of that sensitivity shit. Be a good parent and get them to get their act together. If they still don't improve, maybe your child is just stupid. Never mind counselling, extra lessons, or medication, because little Timmy is only good for stacking cans in a superstore when he grows up. Don't fall for that sissiness about letting your kids be artists or athletes or actors because different people have different kinds of aptitude. If they are not good at math, they're not your problem. So maybe they don't have a shot at the great future you'd want your child to have, but at least you're not blowing your income on expensive therapy and meds. Have a happy retirement!

*When I first came across this story, it was featured on the website of one of the prominent mainstream newspapers in India. They seem to have taken it down.

P.S. For more on how journalists deliberately misinterpret research news, read this article on Cracked. And this one talks about misconceptions psychology and how they come about.

The Leap

So I haven't been posting a lot lately. Apologies for that. A lot has been going on, and a lot more is in the offing, and a lot needs to be shared. Most importantly, I'm quitting my job to become a full-time writer, right after I'm back from Brazil in July. But first things first.

I have wanted to do this (become a full-time Jholawala) for a long time, and over the past six years, have come very close to taking the leap more than once. So finally, I'll end my tenure at my present job in the middle of May, take a long hiatus, and from July, I'll dedicate my time and energy to writing anything - fiction that I hope to get published, travelogues and reportage for anyone willing to pay for it, wedding cards, angry letters to exes... basically, I'll be a writer for hire. I could do some awesome bit of writing for you at very reasonable rates. Just saying.

On the personal front, things have never looked better. The Sharma family welcomed a new member to our folds last month - my younger brother-in-law got married to his long-time sweetheart, a brilliantly talented, beautiful and immensely patient (for putting up with li'l bro for this long) girl. The wedding was insane amounts of fun, especially after I discovered the privileges of being the groom's Bhabhi. I have also rediscovered the Bhabhi-Devar relationship as one in which I get to crack all the jokes and the victim gets to grit his teeth quietly in reverence to my age and status.

And oh, the Mom-in-law and I presented what was quite possibly the first ever Saas-Bahu item number in the history of Big Fat Indian Sangeet Ceremonies. It may or may not have included me donning a turban and serenading my (much taller) Saas to the tune of Kajra Mohabbat Wala... Also, based on post-wedding feedback, I think I have earned enough Good Bahu Credits to get away with a few more jokes at the cost of the newly married young man.

In the latter half of May, I'm visiting my hometown for a good number of days after many years. Now I don't remember the last time my sister and I stayed under a roof beyond the Critical Threshold of Domestic Peace - the maximum number of days we can go without pissing each other off. Hopefully, time and age have made us wiser and both of us will come out of the ordeal without tufts of hair missing this time.

Finally in June, the husband and I are taking off for Brazil - he for the FIFA, I for the chance to spend three freaking weeks in freaking Brazil. The plan is to visit about 12 cities and watch about 6 live matches that we've managed to buy tickets for, while soaking in as much of the local sights, culture and cuisine as the budget allows. Mostly the cuisine. Thanks to the husband's Footballing karma, we also have a couple of local homes on our itinerary. I will try my best to chronicle our journey through this blog as regularly as possible.

Wish me luck!

Rani aur Rachel

Being a small town girl who spent a lot of years living on my own, away from my sheltered upbringing, I am always very interested in stories of women finding themselves away from the context of their family and hometown. I can relate to these stories, as I see in these women bits of myself and of the many wonderful women I have known during my life as a single woman.

And I am equally interested in discussions about these stories and these women. So naturally, what started as a response to Baradwaj Rangan’s article in which he shares some thoughts on English Vinglish and Queen, has gone on to become... this.

B. Rangan has wondered aloud whether the stories of Shashi and Rani could not have been set within India, and whether it was necessary for them to be transported to a foreign country to really find themselves the way they do.

Now of course, a filmmaker has every right to set his story wherever they want, but that besides the point. The question that interests me is: would Rani or Shashi have an equally satisfying character arc if they just moved to another city in India?

Here, the possibilities for Rani and Shashi are very different. There isn’t enough space here to list the reasons why Shashi’s very special burst of empowerment had to come just the way it did in English Vinglish.

Rani is another matter. She is young, educated, single and has much more freedom than she has ever cared to exercise. She isn’t a rebel who has been quashed and submitted to family pressure - she simply never felt the need to come out of the cozy cocoon of her Delhi life and her family-approved boyfriend. Her family is more supportive than you’d give them credit for. As for the boyfriend, she doesn’t even notice what a jerk he was, until she gets a taste of life with better friends. Up until then, she had been taking all the humiliation in her stride as she gleefully marched towards her simple ideal of life.

Now Queen is a travel story, a beautiful one at that, and I wouldn’t dream of taking that away from this movie. But thinking strictly of Rani and her character arc, would it be equally satisfying if, instead of a vacation in Paris, she took a job in South Bombay or Bangalore? I don’t see why not. Only the transformation would be long-winded and perhaps painful and complicated, more like Rachel from Friends. Come to think of it, Rachel’s story starts with her running away from the altar, and over the course of the series she goes from being an unskilled waitress to build a successful career in fashion, becomes a single mother, and is finally free to choose the man in her life without letting him define her place in the world.

Personally, I have known more Rachels than Ranis. These are women who started out with pretty clear and narrow ideas of who they were - whether the upright Momma’s girl or the liberated manic pixie - and each wound up with a life quite unlike what they imagined it would be, living it as better, wiser versions of themselves.

These are stories waiting to be told, but coming back to B Rangan's question - would they make for popular movies? Certainly, if put in the right hands, i.e. hands that are not attached to Madhur B. His approach to storytelling is pretty elegant - put a good little middle class girl in a big bad city, and everything bad that might happen, probably will happen to her or one of her dear friends. While the very worst does happen to an unfortunate few, for most of us life in a big city is not so much a downward spiral of morality and self-worth, as it is an ongoing series of many crests and troughs.

Epiphany doesn’t usually come in neat little packages of one breakup, one vacation, one badass friend, one cute Italian and one transformation. The girl who gives up on career for the guy of her dreams doesn't necessarily get the strongest marriage. The guy who broke your heart doesn’t conveniently come grovelling back to make you realize just how much you have changed. There may be more than one heartbreak, more than one night of drunk-dialling, more than one wrong turn and many little lessons along the way.

We have, of course seen stories more complex, with characters that are truer to life and mostly portrayed by Konkona SenSharma. Sadly, those filmmakers did not feel her arc was worthy enough to take centre stage, and wrapped it inside layers of the male protagonist’s saga. In Wake Up Sid, while the focus is mostly on the man-child Ranbir, it was refreshing that Konkona’s Aisha wasn’t some boring, cut-and-dried Ms. Perfect with crystal clear ideas about her life and priorities. We see her as the slightly vulnerable girl from Kolkata who needs the light frivolity of the Bombay brat as much as he needs her maturity. She finally chooses this brat, who unabashedly enjoys old comedy on TV over the suave, snotty boss who is determined to refine her musical taste.

In Luck By Chance too, while Farhan Akhtar as the lucky rascal who makes it big in Bollywood hogs most of the limelight, the film is bookended with the fresh and innocent Sona (Konkona) as a young struggler in the beginning, and a more confident, mildly successful but hugely content TV actress in the end.

And then there was Tara.

Back in the old, old days of Indian Television, women were allowed to appear on the small screen without three tons of gold and eight layers of makeup. It was acceptable for a young woman to have a real job, not because she had a train of siblings to support, or the survival of the family business depended all the skill and acumen gathered over years in the kitchen, but simply because.

Back in those pre-historic days, we had Tara. It was the story of four young women from smaller towns who started a life in Bombay, with nothing but each other to lean upon. Each of these women has a very defined and very unique trajectory of success, love and personal growth. The thread connecting the many strands of the narrative was the deep and sincere friendship between these women, which provides anchor no matter how far any of them drifts away. 

The show went on and on for a duration that felt treacherous back in the 90’s, and we bitched and we mocked. But as far as the girl-on-growth-path theme goes, few stories have stayed so true to purpose, so honest and affectionate and so without judgment.