Of fatigue and forgetting

Anindita Sengupta

YESTERDAY, I WAS LOOKING at this report released by the World Economic Forum last month, and I started drafting a post with some excerpts. Just to make it easier for people who don’t want to read the whole thing. It was1 am, I was tired and suddenly I felt overcome with this sense of futility, ‘what’s-the-point’ in neon capitals, fatigue. Will it really help to know the figures on maternal health (dismal), or female foeticide (frightening)? What can you or I — the non-activist, the home-maker, the writer or blogger or journalist — really do about any of this? It’s like looking up a ladder whose last rungs you can’t even see, or some hideous version of Jack’s beanstalk.

It reminded me of this time I was talking to someone about writing for UV. She’s a quiet, dark-eyed girl who rarely gets emotional. On this occasion, she did. ‘What’s the point of all this talk?’ she said suddenly. ‘We just become more and more aware of our rage. And don’t know what to do with it.’

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Becoming Woman

Apu

ALL I KNEW WAS that this non-profit group called MARAA was organising some sort of performance on gender and sexuality. A friend told me about it and even offered to pick me up. Work lay unfinished on my table, but what the hell, I decided, I could always catch up later. And that’s how we found ourselves at Jagaa, which calls itself “a community space created to serve the arts, technology and social change communities in Bangalore.” We climbed up two flights of metal staircases to find a fairly large group of people, sitting, standing, leaning on the banisters – and listening attentively to the performers – a group of people variously called hijras, transvestites, transgenders or Aravanis (The Indian concept of third gender is somewhat different from Western conceptualizations – read here).

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An Independence Day Autocritique

oishik

INDIANS ACROSS THE WORLD celebrated their independence day with dampened fervour over the past week, to salvage nationalist pride out of the economics of infection and pathology of recession. While all this was happening, two incidents caught my attention.

First, was a talk show on CNN-IBN discussing whether independent India is open to homosexuality, aired during the Independence Day week. The ‘experts’ invited to speak were responding to a CNN-IBN and Hindustan Times survey in which almost 70 per cent of the respondents felt that homosexuality should be illegal. The ‘liberals’ were represented by the likes of Shyam Benegal, Mukul Keshavan and Gautam Bhan. The ‘conservative’ was a young religious leader (whose name I cannot remember) and sitting on the fence was Jaya Jaitley.

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One Step Forward…

…AND ANOTHER ONE BACK. While the decriminalization of consensual gay sex is indeed a victory for those rooting for orientation-equality (refer to this news item), constricted notions of propriety continue to be imposed on basic choices deemed even remotely threatening to social fabric. A case in point being denim. I kid you not. Jeans, according to the Uttar Pradesh Principals Association, may well be the root of degenerate teen behavior. Scrap the blue stuff and voila! We’ll have model citizens.

The two may be seemingly unrelated but they point to a constant struggle to assert our right to self-expression and fundamental choices. And remind us that it’s far from over. Self-determination, for the most part, is still sitting pretty in a the latter half of a dictionary.

Pride

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“We shall disallow travel and the mingling of songs”—this line from Jeet Thayil’s poem ‘Rules for Citizens’ makes me think about the Gay Pride Parade. Because travel is of so many kinds, much of it disallowed. At this year’s Bangalore Pride on Sunday, there was much mingling of songs as well.

Travel. There was a boy I’ve met a few times. He always struck me as attractive but on Sunday, he was wearing shimmery pants, an open jacket, long hair. His eyes were lined. His skin was cinnamon. He looked beautiful. Sexy and scared and triumphant all at once. What is the distance, I wonder, between that person and the person he is forced to be most of the time? For him, how far was the journey from home to Town Hall, really? [Read More]

The Fear of Feminism

oishik

ON A RECENT VISIT to a Ivy League university in the US with scholars from across the Global South, we came across something strange. A book on feminism from its library had a bizarre tag pasted on it. The tag was brought to our notice by Elizabeth Weed, one of the editors of the acclaimed journal of feminist cultural studies called ‘Differences’. She was delivering a talk to us provocatively titled ‘Against Gender’. Before I reveal the name of the book and what the tag said, it might be useful to touch upon why she used this title. Weed raised some critical questions about how the journey of feminism in the academy – from women’s to gender to feminist studies centres and departments – has had to continuously confront attempts of being depoliticized, appropriated and domesticated. While she was referring to experiences in North America, it had resonances for Feminists from the Global South as well.

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Letter from Ramabai to her Husband

nitoo

Beloved,
I’m tired
and this drying body
remembers the crane-
white of your nails tonight.

The widows come in
limp droves everyday
and my ears scorch
with their words.

Today, Shanta told me
“They gave me powders
to choke my daughter.”
Her hands kept
fluttering to her head
as if to touch
dream hair.

Sometimes
at night
I see my brother’s
ghost and we
still roam and
moan with bloated
bellies and tongues painted purple with
sour berries
and my hungry child-belly
carries Manorama
kicking and clawing inside me.

Beloved,
it rains outside and termites have grown
wings to search for frail lovers.
Soon they will
lose them and

tomorrow
I will see whispered wings
squashed to
the ground.

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Ultra Quote: Merle Hoffman and On the Issues

MERLE HOFFMAN in the latest issue of On the Issues Magazine:

Theory must become practice at one point in time. Our bodies are the place where the power structures make their marks with their laws, their religions, traditions and their prejudices.

Our bodies are lines in the sand. Each one of us proclaims that the power of the state stops at our skin when we lay our bodies down for an abortion, saying, with that action, that it is we who will decide when and whether to bear children. Or when we leave a violent relationship. Or when we resist and when we take the right to sexual pleasure. And when we declare that we must live in freedom.

When you draw a line in the sand, you have got to be prepared to defend it, to take risks and embrace challenges. That, too, calls upon the body, as well as the body politick.

You should totally read the rest of the mag as well.  This issue’s got articles on what the UN needs to do about violence against women, looking at sex ed differently, Judith Brodsky’s art on One Hundred Million Women Are Missing, and knowing your clitoris.

Parsi by Patriarchy

I CAN SAFELY—and with some amount of pride— say that I belong to one of India’s most emancipated and socio-economically advanced communities. As a Parsi, especially one born and bred in South Bombay (most Indian Parsis live in Bombay, and most Bombay Parsis live in its southern areas), it is near guaranteed that I will receive at least a college education, be expected to have a career, marry if and when I wish, and choose whether or not to have children. These, and the many other liberties the women of my community take as a matter of course, are but a distant dream for millions of our countrywomen. We have the advantages of a vast network of philanthropic wealth and prime property holdings via a historical edge in the city of Bombay. Usually free to choose their destinies, plenty of Parsi women stay single or divorce their spouses without having to bear the brunt of crippling social stigma. But you knew there was a ‘but’ coming up somewhere, didn’t you?

If JRD Tata, Zubin Mehta or the boy who lives down my lane chooses to enter into matrimony with a woman not Zoroastrian* by birth, a Parsi priest will bless his wedding, his children will be accepted as members of the faith, and he can continue to stroll into fire temples and partake of every ceremony he has witnessed since birth. If Mehr Jesia, Pheroza Godrej or I choose to enter into matrimony with a man not Zoroastrian by birth (and there is no other kind, as far as the community’s beliefs are concerned), Parsi priests are debarred from performing our nuptial ceremonies, our children aren’t considered part of the community or religion, and we can never visit a fire temple or participate in religious rituals again. [Read More]

Understanding and Responding to the Mangalore Assaults

Noted feminist Sumi Krishna weighs in one the Mangalore pub attacks.

How should we in the women’s movement understand and respond to the cluster of assaults by the Rama Sene, Bajrang Dal and other fundamentalists; the targeting of minorities and their places of worship; the harassment and molestation of women of all classes in the name of nation, culture and religion; the fear and anger spreading through villages and towns in southern-coastal Karnataka?

As Sandhya Gokhale of the Forum Against Oppression of Women, Mumbai, says in The Hindu, on one level the horrific abuse of young women in a pub is ‘a morality issue’, but it is also about the space and decision making power for which women have fought for years. Arvind Narrain of the Alternative Law Forum, Bangalore, writing in the Indian Express, sees the abuse of religious and sexual minorities as the ‘saffron’ challenge to ‘the legacy of the women’s movement in India’ and ‘the thin end of the wedge’ in re-establishing male dominance. [Read More]

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