Saturday 23 April 2016

Small, Insignificant Matters....

Just the other day, I was looking for the notations of a particular Rabindra sangeet when I came across the diaries, which I used to note down notations in my music classes, some 15-18 years back from now. Suddenly, I just got reminded of how I waited for those two days of the week when the evening would be spent in the music classes after coming back from school. The wait was not just for the sake of my love for music, nor for the fact that I had good friends to gossip with there. There was a lot more to it. On our way back, me and Ma customarily treated ourselves with fuchka, egg roll or chop. Ma also got to chat with her friends, who were the mothers of my classmates there. Overall, the whole episode was fun though, from a present perspective, there was nothing so great and exciting about it.

Now, it so happened that I could hardly ask my brain to stop picking up memories from the past, I went on reminiscing about the childhood days and with each story that came to my mind, I realized how small, insignificant matters back then made us happy and with this came the sad realization that such uninhibited joys are perhaps way too hard to experience any more.

I remembered the time when I was in class VII when our very first car was bought. It was a second hand 8 seater Maruti Omni E and my father was supposed to bring it home during the evening from the garage. I skipped my school on the day lest the car arrived when I was not in home. I could hardly have my lunch because I was too excited and in the not-so-cool weather of probably July or so, I waited on the terrace from 4 PM to catch the first glimpse of our very first car entering through the gate. The shockingly sad news came from my father at around 6 PM when he called to let us know that due to some document-related problems, the car was not handed over that day and instead, it would be delivered the day after. I cried my heart out and I still don’t figure out the exact reason behind my uncontrollable sobs that continued way too long. It was perhaps the child in me that could not bear the disappointment. Hardly did we know that this disappointment was not even an inch of what life prepares for us later. And needless to mention, when the second and the third car arrived after 4 or 7 years respectively, there was nothing really special because of course, adulthood had, by then, spread its claws of maturity.

Little things mattered so much back then that when I look back, I laugh at our own silliness. My uncle’s wedding reception was held in our very own house and dinner was arranged for the guests on our huge terrace, which was decorated and covered for the four-day long marriage function. Me and my cousins, all four of us, were so excited to collect the menu cards from the guests after the dinner was over. And the deal was that whoever collected the maximum number of cards would be the winner (though there was no prize for it). At night, we counted the cards collected by each of us and I went to bed, little sad that I did not have the maximum number of cards. The next morning, one of the caterer guys handed me a bunch of menu cards saying that those were extra and could not be used anymore. My joy knew no limits and I rushed to my cousins to declare that I was the ultimate winner. And not quite surprisingly, they were distraught too!




Not just menu cards, we loved collecting train and bus tickets too and I am sure many of you from the generation, had this habit as well. In our childhood, happiness came our way very easily and it came in the form of very, very small and otherwise insignificant things. Dinner in a restaurant, visiting sweet shops with Baba on Bengali New Year’s Day, occasional gatherings at home especially, on bhaiphota were the things we eagerly looked forward to. I remember once we had lunch in a restaurant, which was very close to the Kolkata airport and offered a nice view of the landing planes while we ate. The whole thing stayed in my mind for God knows how long!!

Back to the present, with my office in Salt Lake Sector V, I often get to see landing aeroplanes though of course, from quite a distance, when I am taking a stroll in the parking lot. Alas! I don’t even look up and it is only the sound that disturbs me especially, if I am speaking over the phone.

The loss of innocence and those boundless joys is perhaps not something regrettable because all children become adults and live a life that confronts us with so many things, both good and bad. What is sad is that the excess of all things, especially the material stuffs, has made us kind of immune to happiness and excitement. It is like everything is so common and nothing is a great deal anymore. Of course, we get excited but it has to be a big achievement at work or perhaps, an amazingly planned holiday trip that meets our happiness criteria. Quite unfortunately, the situation is quite similar for the present-day kids too.

At the risk of sounding too philosophical and idealistic, I would end my ramblings right here. Let’s just take this as an Ode to our lost childhood and its lost bliss which I am sure, many of you will identify with.


Friday 22 April 2016

What Is The Modern Woman Made Up Of?

Out of the many adjectives assigned to a woman, "modern" is one of the most popular and heard. But who is a modern woman? The one who dresses herself in western outfits, speaks fluent English, drinks and smokes and earns her living? Of Course, she is a modern woman but is modernity restricted to these only? Just a few days back, one of my cousins who is going through the rather tortuous process of arranged marriage i.e meeting prospective grooms and interacting with their respective families, told me about one of her not so desirable experiences. My sister had to interact with a rather educated, accomplished, working, urban woman, who was the mother of the person my sister was courting. My sister, being considered the prospective daughter-­in-­law of the family was asked if she knew how to cook. My sister's reply was that she had been so busy with her academics and then work that she hadn't really had the time to try her hands. However, she was very willing to learn from her would be mother­-in-­law and happily take up the responsibility as a welcome part of marriage. The lady was disappointed with the answer and mentioned that they were looking for someone who was actually good at cooking and can cook everyday meals for her son as the latter had a difficult to satiate taste bud. No wonder, the association and the prospect of marriage was called off. Sigh!
My purpose of narrating this whole conversation is to arrive at the point that surprises and troubles me.I am not against cooking nor against the idea of learning how to cook before or after your marriage whatever. But the issue is how can an educated woman like the one talked about here expect her educated and working daughter ­in ­law to have mastered the art of cooking by the time she was barely 25 years old! Did her son know how to cook? Did she ever teach his son to cook for himself especially because he was a foodie and might have actually enjoyed the chore. The answer is obvious and the problem is most of us like this particular lady embraces modernity in clothes and not in mentality. Being modern is about developing a mentality that understands, appreciates and enforces equality instead of posing an ultra modern look outside and carrying age old customs, traditions, conventions and stereotypes buried deep within yourself. With the adjective modern in my mind, when I compare this woman and the girl who clads herself in oversized cotton salwar kameezes, oils and ties her hair in plaits and travels 3 hours each day by train to get a degree in polytechnic to earn a living and support her family, I find the latter a lot more modern and modern in the truest sense of the term.
Almost all of us talk about the equality of men and women. Unfortunately very few of us implement such equality within the smallest sphere of our own lives. In a so called urban family, a son and a daughter grows up in the same way with the same amount of attention to their education and career. A woman today works as hard and earns as much as her male counterpart yet the expectations from a female are so many. I do not doubt the fact that society is changing and the present generation is witnessing some of the most amazing sons, husbands and fathers. Yet, the bridging of the necessary gap requires too much of sincere effort and understanding. To be modern in the true sense, we need to understand the concept of being modern at a much deeper level than clothes, food habits and diction.
Gloria Steinem, an American feminist, journalist cum social­ and political activist once said in one of her speeches that "I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career".And it speaks volumes.

The Matrilineal Society of Meghalaya: Where Gender Equality is Not an Utopia

Last September, I had the opportunity of visiting one of the most beautiful sisters of the Seven Sisters of India with my husband for a five day tour. It might sound surprising but this was my first visit to the mountains in the true sense of the term and Shillong, popularly known as the Scotland of the East for its lush meadows, was just perfect.
I was mesmerized by the breathtaking scenic beauty of the place but alongside, something interesting caught my attention, being an observer that I am. I found young group of girls going to schools and colleges by walking down the rather desolate hilly roads without being accompanied by men. I saw girls dressed in shorts and skirts and considerably decked up with makeup driving down alone with windows open even when it was dark outside. And this place was far from being a metropolitan city. In Mawlynnong, a small village but the cleanest one in the whole of Asia, I found women managing the small stores visited by the tourists or often handling the cash section of the larger stores single-handedly. I was surprised and impressed and with a little probe, realized that the Khasis, the main inhabitant of Meghalaya, live in a matrilineal society. A society in which men accompany women to her homes to start a new life together, a society in which people celebrate when a baby girl is born, a society in which the youngest daughter of the family inherits the family property and is considered the custodian and preserver of her clan, family and lineage.
When states like Uttar Pradesh are busy shunning the girl child by committing female feticide and bride burning, demanding dowry or in short persecuting the weaker sex, Meghalaya is the only state that is holding a flame, a beacon of hope by putting the weaker sex on a strong pedestal of society. This is the state where woman power is at its peak.Speaking of the Khasis, it is difficult to state an exact date of the settlement of this tribe in the Khasi hills but it is believed that they migrated into the present home from the plains either from the Brahmaputra Valley or Kamakhya during the tenth and thirteenth century AD.

The power of the womenfolk does not imply the subjugation of the male like it happens in the so called patriarchal society. While the woman is the mistress of the household and the custodian of the family’s wealth, it is the father who is the primary guide, master and provider of the family. In fact, the division of the family responsibility follows a virtual three-fold structure where the mother looks after the hearth and home, the father provides all that is necessary for the maintenance of his wife and children and the uncle attends to the business affairs that come before the family. Very interestingly, a man does not forego membership in his own clan after marriage. His position in his wife's house is that of 'being in it, but not of it'.
If gender equality is a utopia, the Khasis of Meghalaya can indeed boast of having created a utopian society where men and women are equal and where the thin line of patriarchy and matriarchy fades to make place for a desirable society.

The Journey (A Short Story)

The Journey is a short story about two women who have a wrong impression of each other, until they are forced to sit together on a train journey.
Kajal jostled her way to get down from the bus as it was speeding up crossing the station already. A young boy and a middle-aged lady seemed pretty irritated by Kajal’s hasty manner and her plea to the conductor to stop the bus so that she could get down.
“Ki madam, kotokhon dakchi…Station Station…ghumochilen naki?” (Madam, I’ve been shouting Station, Station for so long, were you sleeping?)
Kajal ignored the ticket conductor without hesitation. It was indeed her fault. Quite aware of the fact that the buses were crowded this time, she should have made her way to the front exit long back. She got down, crossed the road and reached the station platform all within barely 5 minutes. It was already 9.15 a.m. by then. To her surprise, she found that the train had been 15 minutes late and was approaching the platform just then. A sense of victory filled her face with a broad grin. Quickly, she walked forth and stood right in front of where the lady’s compartment would be positioned. A few familiar faces exchanged glances as she boarded the train and quickly took a window seat. It didn’t escape her notice that the compartment was relatively less crowded than the other days. She looked for her friends, friends acquired over months while journeying together to the same destination. She found almost none and got a little disappointed for she would miss the chit chats and gossips during the journey, for these things somewhat invigorated her, adding a pinch of flavour to her otherwise dull, boring life.
Just as the train started and she prepared to take a nap given that there was nothing else to do for the following long 90 minutes, a lady hastily came and sat right in front of her on the opposite side (window seat). Kajal knew this lady to be Seema and felt a little awkward as Seema was one of the most talked about passengers in this daily 9 a.m. train. Although Kajal never found anything wrong with the dresses and the heavy make-up Seema wore every day and even quite admired her collection, she had to nonetheless participate in the gossip that came from her so-called friends and the discussions brilliantly helped in passing time.
She knew from their discussion that Seema worked as a receptionist in some five star hotel in Kolkata. However, the other ladies were of the opinion that apart from working in the hotel, she had some “side profession”, which allowed her to drown herself in expensive clothes, accessories and make-up. And this side business was the reason why, according to some, she got back home as late as 10 p.m. in the down train, often accompanied by a man to the station. Kajal never felt the urge to question them about how they knew so much about Seema’s whereabouts. However, Kajal knew in her mind that Seema was aware of the discussions going on behind her back though she admirably preferred to ignore them.
“Left alone today?”
Kajal was drifting off to sleep with some random thoughts in her mind when suddenly the question woke her up with a jolt. The train had also slowed down and now it stopped midway between two stations, waiting for the next signal.
Seema was looking at her and smiling. She was wearing a white shirt with sophisticated frills and had teamed it up with a black trouser and black new cut shoes. Her hair was tied up neatly into a bun and a pair of diamond studs dazzled in her ears. The right mix of eye liner, shadow, blusher and lipstick made her otherwise average features stand out.
Kajal felt uneasy. It was the first time she was looking at Seema so closely. Within a moment, she became conscious of the fact that she was wearing a simple cotton salwar kameez and unlike Seema’s, her hair was parted in the middle with a dab of sindoor strategically hiding the consistent loss of hair.
Gathering composure, Kajal replied trying to put up a fake smile, “Not really. What’s there to be alone?”
Seema continued, “The compartment feels empty today though it is true only for the lady’s compartment. The general ones are crowded as usual. I guess yesterday there was some puja or upvas(fasting) that most women perform, hence they must be too tired for office today. 
Where do you work by the way?”
Kajal instantly felt a strange warmth in the way Seema spoke. It was jovial and very much unlike how the other ladies spoke among each other. However, she was taken aback by the question regarding her work for it was not something she usually liked to answer. Kajal worked in a cosmetics showroom where she had to sell cosmetics and persuade and guide customers in case they decided not to buy or could not fix their mind on which one to go for. Her work required her to be standing for not less than 6 hours a day. She worked out of compulsion, out of the need to support her family, especially her 10-year-old son’s education and all this because her husband worked in a factory, which always seemed to be on the verge of closing down. Rohit, her husband, was hardworking but did little to make the situation better. Ever since Kajal started working in this cosmetics shop, Rohit took it for granted that no matter how less he earned, things would be kept going. He carefully overlooked the fact that Kajal, after having undergone a number of surgeries, was not physically fit enough to travel so far to work.
Kajal worked in a cosmetics showroom where she had to sell cosmetics and persuade and guide customers in case they decided not to buy or could not fix their mind on which one to go for. Her work required her to be standing for not less than 6 hours a day.
 “I am into sales. I work with a leading cosmetic brand you see”, this was the best answer Kajal could give while also being truthful. She accompanied it with, “And you?” knowing that working as a hotel receptionist is no better.
“I work as an assistant manager in Taj Diganta. I am currently placed in the Food and Beverage department”, Seema replied with her characteristic smile.
Kajal felt embarrassed and extremely regretful of having asked Seema the question, of having revealed her own work status and more than anything else, hated in her mind those other ladies, her so-called journey partners and friends for grossly making up stories based on people’s appearances, without the slightest evidence or knowledge!
It appeared that Seema could understand part of what was going on inside Kajal’s head, especially her surprise.
Seema continued, “I know people associate me with everything that’s outrageous. Not their fault. I do not carry any sign of being married. But tell me, why do I? Why should I keep adorning myself with sankha(white bangles made of conch shells) and sindoor for the one who never played his role as a companion? I have always played my role as a wife, have cooked for him, looked after his family, tried to be by his side in good and bad times. If I have ever done anything wrong, that is, wanting a life of my own, a career, a goal, few aspirations apart from being just a wife.”
Seema’s eyes were getting moist and Kajal was only half understanding what Seema was saying because she was too surprised to hear what she was hearing and all the more baffled by the fact that this gorgeous lady considered Kajal worthy enough to share her life story, that too in the middle of a train!
“Don’t you live with your husband? Kajal helplessly interrupted.
“No. I don’t live with my parents either, for they consider it my fault to have chosen my career over my husband. They are kind enough to look after my son. Every day, after office, I go to meet him and spend time with him. I have refused to take my husband’s help. I take care of every need of my son. He is 5 years old and is yet to understand his mother’s plight but I am sure we will soon live together. Presently, I stay in a girl’s hostel.” Wiping off the tears in her eyes, Seema continued, “You know my son loves me, at times, he would keep me back for so long that my brother had to accompany me to the station and make sure that the last train was not gone. I just kept praying that my son grew up to be a gentleman.” Seema finished with a happy smile on her lips and there were tears in Kajal’s eyes.
The train reached its destination. Both of them got down, bid farewell and as usual, got lost in the crowd. Only a faint picture lingered in Kajal’s mind.
Over 15 years ago, she had just graduated from college and was looking for a job. The offer came rather unexpectedly as her interview for the post of an assistant to the Managing Director in a mid-sized private firm had not gone too well. No sooner had she happily announced the news to her parents than she learnt that her father had already asked the family of a matrimonial alliance to come over. Irritated by the fact that her father had started negotiating her marriage without her consent, she was even shocked to learn that her prospective in-laws had agreed to go ahead with the negotiation on the pretext that their would be daughter-in-law would not work outside and this was prioritized among other necessary qualifications.
What a rebel Seema was! Kajal wished she could be half as strong, vocal and determined in her life choices and decisions.
Seema, in her office cabin, remembered Kajal’s bubbly face from the morning train and sighed, “How lucky she is to have both a stable family and work and not having to sacrifice any one of the two!”