Boys don’t cry?

"The reason people find it so hard to be happy is that they always see the past better than it was, and the present worse than it is, and the future less resolved than it will be." -Marcel Pagnol

I am writing this in the context of a second suicide case in two years in my University hostel. Both cases involved young men in their 20’s and both point towards deep emotional trauma as the cause for their extreme step. I am a die-hard optimist and believe in the adage “Life is good, come what may”, and I have been distressed by the fact that we have, as a society, been pushing individuals to the wall so much that they decide to give up.

Why is it that it is young men, and not women who took away their lives in similar fashion here? Is it because the women on campus don’t undergo testing times? Certainly, that is not the case. The answer, I believe lies in the fact that our society brings up boys and girls differently. Boys are unfortunately taught to never be sensitive and weak overtly. If you have problems, learn to deal with them by yourself. “Be man enough” (!) is a common line hurled at them when they show signs of being weak mentally or emotionally. I blame this tendency for the two suicides. We fail to provide individual males with adequate support systems to deal with stress, with anxieties, with insults and setbacks in life. We fail to provide the sympathetic ear and the sensitive shoulder to the average male. This problem is only aggravated in the case of bachelor research scholars who have no regular classes to attend, no great possibilities of venting out pent up emotions. If we had a system where every male was made to feel that it is okay to take counsel from a close person, was allowed to release built-up emotions, was allowed to weep, express anguish and show weaknesses, we could have prevented such incidents.

I hope we can build a society where individuals don’t strive too hard living up to societal stereotypes since in this simple-looking process, lives are lost. This loss of lives is only the worst (and dare I say, occasional) manifestation of a deeper prevalence of unexpressed anguish, unresolved pain and unvented emotions.

Boys do cry, and they do have a feeling heart, and a sensitive mind, and it is high time we recognize this fact and prevent snuffing out lives of bright individuals who could have contributed greatly to the betterment of our society.

Centre-point

The world is not the same as when I wrote the last post. It probably never was between any two posts. But this time, it is a different world. I am happy that we are becoming more conscious of sexual rights and the fact that every shoot-off-your-hip politician or media-savvy socialite is thinking twice before speaking or is at least forced to "withdraw" sexist remarks soon after they make it, notwithstanding their recourse to the line that "people quoted me out of context".

We are a male-chauvinistic world. The men are so insecure that they even 'hit it off' with other men - total strangers by making fun of women, any woman. They have to smile or laugh off when people refer to sexual violence. "arrey bhai, we are losing morality these days. Women are wearing ganda kapda na! Why r they visiting pubs nowadays? Gone are those days when Bharatiya Sanskriti was at its peak..." I have nothing but the sincerest contempt for these moralists who sit on a high pedestal and preach about values.

What pisses me off the most about this discourse whenever such men talk about sexual violence is that they miss the point totally: we need to focus on the perpetrators and not on the victim. How complicated is it to understand the simple fact that if there was no rapist, no one would be raped? When a maverick goes into a school and shoots down kids, we blame the shooter. Simple! When a brain-washed gang 'infiltrates' into 'our' territory and kills innocent people we ask for the death sentence. Very simple! Why do we not say that the kids asked for it or the innocent people deserved it? Then why instead, do we ask women to behave, when they suffer? 

I watched a video today which focusses on teaching kids how to identify danger and what to do if an incident of possible sexual violence takes place. A child refers to the sexual organ, euphemized by the counsellor as "the part between the legs", as "centre-point" amidst some giggling from the others. My heart weeps for the innocence of kids in this world where some men who cannot control their centre-point, go berserk and violate this innocence of the child. I find fault with these men's inability to control their centre-points. That is the root of the problem. So, I would request the Asarams of the world to stop blaming jeans, skirts, pubs or the female centre-point. It is the male centre-point that is the root of the problem.

But, please don't get me wrong. I am not asking for chemical castration and worse still, for the death sentence. I do believe that people deserve punishment for illegal acts and sexual violence is a gory, insensitive act. But, I abhor the idea that any one has the right to take away any one else's life, whatever be the provocation or the reason. I stand against taking away life, be it in the war-field or in court. Then, what should we do about it? Yes, we need tougher laws, effective punishment, fast-track courts etc, but above all we need to change the societal mind-set about the root of the problem. It is the crass objectification of the woman - an ideology that sees the woman's body as 'prey', merely as meat, merely as something needed to satisfy the male centre-point. Educate boys and girls to treat others with respect. Nothing justifies physical violence, including the sexual one.

So, the next time, one of those moustaches and beards sermonize about women's morality, just remind them about the point - the male centre-point. That is where the problem originates. We can make this a better world this way.

Bird's-eye view

Humans have a craving for running after the superficial and totally neglecting the deeper things in life. Money, fashion, consumerism all seem so much more important than life, happiness and well-being.
Yesterday, a family member just got into a rant about how money is 'flowing' out of his hands, with total shock and desperation in his voice. I thought about it and responded with a question: Are you happier today when you have money to spend than earlier, when you didn't? He fell silent. I am guessing he had his moment of introspection to help him put things in place.
A few years ago, my wife and I lived in Delhi and we 'ran after' everything that the corporate world wanted us to buy: a car, a flat... We spent more than we earned and soon we fell deeply into debt. We used the credit card to withdraw money (the last resort for money, for anybody who has some sense in addition to a credit card) and scraped off all sympathetic sources of money to buy stuff, which in retrospect we realized, we didn't really need.
We had to find a way to wriggle out of debt and fortunately we soon did, in foreign shores, where we compromised more than we ever will in the future. In a gradual turnaround, we soon became debt-free and also managed to acquire a bigger flat.
Today my wife and I crave no more for the things we did a decade ago. I wonder why some family members still do not see the writing on the wall. Why don't they see that they are being pulled deep into a quagmire of consumerism where one is tempted to buy what one doesn't need in a vicious cycle of desire and purchase?
The reason is that we get caught up in the worm's-eye view of the world where, to use the metaphor of maps, we can only see the end of the street we are on. When we get there, we only decide to turn left or right. Then another end of street to run to...
I hope we can all get a bird's-eye view of our lives, where we can see on our maps the direction to take to reach the ultimate destination, which I hope is happiness, well-being and life; not money or belongings.
Stepping back from the rat-race to do a PhD has given me more than I had bargained for: a fresh perspective on life's priorities... Waiting to get back to the real world outside this university...

Othering heights

Why make much of burning paper-and-wood RavaNas

When you can’t burn out the corrupt, the scamsters?

Why vilify the ‘asuras’ when those you call your own

Stab you on your back day in and day out?

Why other me and my much-maligned ilk

When skeleton after skeleton falls out of your cupboards

On senseless, sombre, sensation-crowded prime-time?

“Education for All” and sundry!

Yes, it was such a success, the programme,

The scholars listened all rapt, at what,

The linguist had to say about the tense phrase

And the negatives and neutralization with rehearsed ease,

While outside the glass window she stood, her face pressed against the

Cold glass through which she thought she could see what

She wanted to become tomorrow. Damn her, she doesn’t know

How we’ll try to snuff out her dreams and try our best to keep her OUT

Of this select collegium of renowned scholars,

And how we dread the idea of letting her pollute, and dilute

Our community’s academic standards

And how we’ll do anything to maintain our high moral ground.

Not for nothing that we learnt from our English masters the art,

Of pretending to give, while holding back,

Of seeming humane while being selfish and smug...

Ah, she shall never know how MUCH, with every bit of our being, we HATE her

And the fact that she vies to be here, that wretched, wretched good-for-nothing!

Global English!

Now say after me with rounded lips,

The schwas and aitches in the proper way,

Make sure you stick to established standards,

And never make a mistake, never do it.

English is ours and we’ll tell you all

Exactly how to use it and teach it to all,

We have scholars like you can never have

And it is our language, in case you forgot.

You foolish good-for-not-a-things

You thought we let you have an English of your own?

Ha! The thought of it. Beware, don’t usurp

What is only ours. We stand all, hand-in-glove

And attempt to sell to you what we think

Is best for you. Do you have any idea

About how to go about it, without our holding you by the hand

And letting you see the marvels of our land and tongue?

Achante makan! (Father's son)

Acha, they say today is Fathers' Day! Wonder if we need a day like that; wonder if it is a marketing ploy created by greeting-card companies...

Anyway, it is good we have a day like this, to remind us of the role fathers played in our lives...

To be honest, there had been many occasions when I had felt you don't like me, or worse, that you hated me; times when I had felt that you stood miles away from me geographically, ideologically and emotionally...

But, then there are a million occasions when, in hindsight, I recall the lessons you taught, the pains you took and the extents to which you went to give us the best that was possible for us. The small things that are everything, in the sense that they leave indelible marks on the fabric called existence. I remember the way you punished us for mistakes we made and your making it a point to point out why we were being punished; I remember how you bought us those small books every Sunday on the lives of great people, mostly people who sacrificed their happinesses for the greater good. You could have just bought us comics alone (which also you did) or books on the lives of people who made money big-time, but I am glad you didn't. I am proud to think of myself as someone who stands up for something and somebody with some courage of conviction. And we owe it to you...

I remember, there have been times, more recently, when I have made you feel low and lonely and unwanted, times when I have protested against your ways, but believe me when I tell you that we owe a lot to you, though I do regret that you behaved in certain unpleasant ways when I needed you the most.

I do not crib for the nothings of life (like the food we get to eat in hostel etc) and have learnt to look at the larger things - the ones that matter.

Thanks dad, for the love you showered on us, for the time and energy you invested in us and for instilling in us for example, the value of enjoying a meal at the home of the disadvantaged and to help give him pleasure, even if for moments...

LOVE YOU DAD!

(The title alludes to the Malayalam song I learnt to sing as a child - "araaro ariraaro, achante mon/makan araaro, ammakkyu nee teynalle ayiravaLLi poovalle...")