I agree. A survey across 21 developing countries covering 6500 women tells us that while Indian women are facing the heat for wanting to juggle a career with home and hearth and traditional roles of wife and mother, they are also the most positive amongst all developing countries in that they see more opportunities for themselves, and their daughters.
The survey also mentioned that more Indian women are watching television, but I’m not sure whether that is really a positive thing given the kind of cringe-while-you-watch soaps which are the standard stock of most GECs today. But lets not quibble about things like television watching when my only television watching comprises movies and news channels.
I wouldn’t consider myself a typical Indian woman, for one, I don’t work work. I freelance. The pressures to deliver are there but I can juggle work and domestic responsibilities to my convenience. When I did work fulltime, I was miserable. God forbid I had to be late at work for anything-pages going into press, a shoot that extended beyond estimated time, an interview delayed interminably because celeb to be interviewed had no respect for the time of the lackey waiting to interview him/her, my heart would start beating faster and faster and faster, panic would start setting in, I would run across streets and jump into trains to try and reduce my being home ‘late’. Push came to break when I was working at an advertising agency where the briefs came in at 6 pm and one was expected to work through the night on presentations. My marriage was at break point. I quit full time work. Began freelancing. Of course, I was also trying to have a baby at that point, but yes. I could do without that stress. I’m more at peace now. Yes, I did gain greater control over my life, but only at the cost of not having a career.
No whining. It was a decision I took, and I stand by it. But I use this as an illustration of the stress mentioned in the survey.
Am I optimistic? Yes, I am. Despite the fact that I cannot wear more jewellery than I weigh and go off to sleep dressed in the kind of saree that mandates one get married in it. And I’m sure many women are. Flexiwork opportunities, second chance career innings, work from home options are all enabling women to earn an income, be independent and be able to coordinate home and hearth without compromise. I have friends with young babies who are working from home, using their professional skills and making a decent amount of money, which then in turn contributes substantially to their self esteem. That makes a hell of a lot of difference to one’s optimism levels, I dont know about you, but I just hate asking the spouse for money for my expenses. Put it down to having earned my own money since I was in college.
Stressed and optimistic. I like the sound of that. It sort of balances itself out at the end. I am stressed, but I am also optimistic. Eventually the optimism should win, if I don’t die of a heart attack from the stress first that is. And yes, women get heart attacks too, don’t believe the damn cooking oil ads that would have you believe that only men do.
Archive for June, 2011
Here.
So, this, in a nutshell, is everything you already knew about me but were afraid to ask, as the book goes.
http://blog.blogadda.com/2011/06/23/kiran-manral-indiahelps-thirtysixandcounting-interviewed
Yesterday. Let me take myself to a corner and weep my heart out. No seriously, I hit forty. When I was 19, I had thought forty was a good age to die. You were still young enough to make a decent looking corpse and old enough to have done all the things you should have done by the time you hit forty.
Or so I thought. Obviously I didn’t think too deeply back then. Call it the arrogance of youth. Or whatever. But I hit official forty, four oh, four completed decades on this planet and I’m damned if I’m going to feel forty. I feel, in my head, like I ought to be asked for a valid id when I go to a pub. Of course, that would be pushing it a bit too much, but in my head that’s where I am, if I ignore the hulking seven year old telling me to act my age.
So what does turning forty feel like. No, the face hasn’t collapsed on me overnight into a maze of wrinkles. The knees haven’t given way yet. I still giggle over crushes, and go ballistic over trends I can barely fit my expansive self into. I read sappy Twilight series novels and get lost in a world of stalkerish vampire lovers, only to emerge and bang myself on the head wondering what was I smoking. I need to grow up. Turning forty hasn’t changed that.
So here’s what forty should be like. As clicked by the doting son yesterday. Sort of sums up my mood right now.
Am so going to make this my best decade ever. And yes, I need to change the header of the blog.
The Redemption
By William Peter Blatty
Piatkus
Rs 350
When I read the blurb on the cover which said that the author of this book was the person who had written The Exorcist, I was hardpressed to let the working day end before I allowed myself to read it. The book, while not in the league of The Exorcist, to be honest, is definitely an enjoyable read by itself, and plays on the same issues of faith, belief, evil and good.
The book opens in the Albania of the 1970s, where a strange prisoner is creating a furore with the curious things he seems to be doing. The regime is oppressive and closed, torture chambers are the norm, and the description of the torture graphic. If you have a queasy stomach, I recommend you skip the torture chamber bits. The tone of the narrative is grim, reminescent of John Le Carre’s works, which are set in the cold war era.
The prisoner, who we learn, is called an agent of hell, manages to kill all the guards and escape. The narrative shifts to a hospital in Jerusalem where terminal patients are coming out of remission and a doctor is trying to find the reasons behind these so called miracles. A different kind of a thriller from The Exorcist, but one that takes on a different aspect of belief and warring between good and evil. While there is the hint of the element of the supernatural, this novel is primarily philosophical, with questions of faith and belief, redemption and retribution playing starring roles. Blatty’s writing is spare, determined and in keeping with the setting of the book.
A must read if you are a fan of the genre.
…that some people out there are willing to listen when I talk.
http://www.trust.org/trustlaw/news/trustlaw-danger-poll-ignites-global-debate
Does India really deserve to be on the 4th spot on this list?
Published June 16, 2011 Uncategorized 21 CommentsI was part of a discussion on the BBC World Have Your Say which spoke about India being fourth on a Thomson Reuters Foundation survey on the most dangerous countries in the world to be a woman in.
http://downloads.bbc.co.uk/podcasts/worldservice/whys/whys_20110615-1236a.mp3
I am a woman who have lived and worked all her life in a city like Mumbai. Maybe I am not representative of women as a whole in the country.
Yes, there are foeticides, there are dowry deaths, there are rapes and child brides. Yes, there is sex trafficking and minors forced into prostitution, which happens to be the criterion that played a major role to get us onto this honour list. Yes the gender ratio is so skewed now that I seriously think the next generation of Indians will have to adopt polyandry as a practical solution to the shortage of brides. Which, I think, would actually be a good thing, and slowly tilt us towards a matriarchal culture, well a girl can dream can’t she? Yes, the system is skewed towards patriarchy because that is how it has been for so many centuries. But to say that India is the fourth worst country in the world to be a woman? I would say that is stretching the truth a bit too far.
Here’s what the report says: LONDON (TrustLaw) – Violence, dismal healthcare and brutal poverty make Afghanistan the world’s most dangerous country for women, with Congo a close second due to horrific levels of rape, a Thomson Reuters Foundation expert poll said on Wednesday.
Pakistan, India and Somalia ranked third, fourth and fifth, respectively, in the global survey of perceptions of threats ranging from domestic abuse and economic discrimination to female foeticide, genital mutilation and acid attack
I grew up in a metro and I have traveled the length and breadth of the country and I do feel that yes, there is danger here if you are out in certain parts of the country beyond a certain time, but I hear horror stories of rapes, muggings and killings from all across the world. Thankfully I do have the freedom to move around by myself and do not need to be escorted by a male relative wherever I want to go. I am free to drive, to get an education, to pursue a career. But then, I am a girl from the metro. I do understand things are different in the rural areas. I do know that had I fallen in love with the spouse in rural Haryana, the khaps might have just ordered both of us dead, if my father and brother hadn’t killed me off before that.
On the flip, we have so many powerful women in business and politics. The corporate world has women at senior positions. Girls are outperforming boys in competitive exams.
But to be bracketed in the same category as Congo and Somalia, where genital mutilation is the norm, rapes by bayonets part of daily living, maternal health care so terrible that 50 per cent women dont make it past childbirth.
I have my issues with the methodology of the poll. Read more about it here: http://www.trust.org/trustlaw/news/trustlaw-poll-afghanistan-is-most-dangerous-country-for-women/
http://www.trust.org/documents/womens-rights/resources/2011WomenPoll-MethodologyandResultsSummary.pdf
213 so called gender experts spread across five continents donot make an adequate representation of ground reality.
Paradoxically, I feel coming at 4th spot might be a blessing in disguise. It might just be the wake up call the country needs and the government needs to get their act in place and get serious about tackling gender violence related issues.
What do you think? Do we really deserve to be at 4th spot? And what can we as individuals to try and move our country off this list? Any suggestions?
Life is what you make of it
By Preeti Shenoy
Published by Shristi Publications
Rs 100
This book, the second by the author, starts off by taking us into a mental health care facility, where a young girl Ankita is about to be admitted. Through her voice we learn she had been a starring student through college, and she feels, she doesnt deserve to be there.
The novel then slips into flashback. College days, student council elections, debates, dramas, socials, exams, further education and yes, crushes, both long distance and immediate. Through the flashback, we see Ankita disintegrating as something we slowly come to realise as a mental disorder takes grip of her. The story meanders into how Ankita’s life gets thrown off track with her illness and how she comes back on track. What is interesting about this book is that it tackles the little understood illness of Bipolar Disorder, and tries to sensitise the reader towards what a sufferer of this illness goes through.
What is interesting is the detailing of how Ankita grows up in small town India, battling conservative parents, who have her best interests at heart no doubt but continue to be conservative in their outlook. The experience and the circumstances that a girl in 80s small town India goes through, the hesitation to be seen talking with boys in public for fear of being branded immoral and therefore having her reputation ruined in the gossip vine, the experience of college socials is something one could identify with, having seen it happen during one’s college days. The experience of college festivals, elections, a gang of girls and the long distance relationships over telephone in an era when the cell phone was not even a gleam in the eye of its inventor and calls had to be timed to perfection to ensure that one was in the immediate vicinity of the telephone to answer the call.
The novel could have been tauter, but it is definitely a bravely written one. Parts of it are gripping. The theme of bipolar, or at least mental illness, is not something that has been explored much in Indian writing and the novel is a plea for understanding of how mental illness is as valid an illness as a physical illness is and needs to be treated with concern and compassion by the family members.
The novel is bravely written, gripping in parts and ends with an afternote (spoiler alert) on the lives of the protagonists, and we are pleased to find that despite all the main protagonist Ankita has gone through, she is managing to lead a relatively normal life, thanks to medication, awareness and a supportive husband. In a sense, the positive ending does lift the novel out of the bleakness that did characterise it for the most part.
Read it. It is like a blast to the past for the most part, and would help you relive your college days if you grew up in the 80s.
This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!
…unless you have legs like this.
And if you’re asking what she wore, here it is: A white button up romper by Equipment with a red tweed blazer by Elizabeth and James, red belt by Chanel, a gold feather motif statement necklace by Giles & Brother.
And to finish the Oh So Chic-ness, nude sandals by Sergio Rossi.
Plugged
By Eoin Colfer
Headline/Hachette India Rs 499
Being a dyed in the wool (Or feather as the case might be) fan of the Artemis Fowl series, and a greater fan of the crime novel genre, Plugged reeled me from the first chapter itself. Plugged, metaphoric perhaps, for the hair plugs, the protagonist, Daniel, a New Jersey bouncer at a club has just gotten to beef up his hairline, is the story of how a man can get caught in a quagmire of crimes he did not commit, and his struggle to get to the bottom of the whoddunit.
Hitchcockian? You bet. To start with the protagonist is not a spotless fellow himself. He brings to the tale his background as an ex-soldier, (now where have I read that before in this genre?) having served with the Irish army, and with peacekeeping operations throughout the world. As his badges of honour, he still bears shrapnel in his back and a cool attitude to any form of belligerence which serves him well in his current profession.
His major concern right now though is that the plugs he’s gotten in his scalp take. The tender vanity of such a beefy action man protagonist in an era which has embraced bald action heroes like Bruce Willis, Jason Statham and Vin Diesel is rather endearing.
The tone of the narrative is sardonic, the voice a monologue. Which incidentally alerts us to the fact that no matter how gripping the action sequence, the hero will get through.
An additional voice through the narrative though is the protagonist’s friend from Lebanon, believed to be dead, who is like a voice of conscience of sorts through the story.
With the murder of his sometime girl friend, Daniel sets about trying to fit pieces of the jigsaw together and gets drawn into a world of drug dealers and detectives. Dark though the novel is, there is a redeeming comic tone which lightens it from becoming bleak and grim. The dialogue is full of gems, Daniel seems to be a constant observer in his own life, and Plugged is a book you just have to read if you, like me, call yourself a crime novel buff.
Ever since we arrived in this new house four years ago, construction had been on in full swing at the intersection a short distance away, barely a short jump off my balcony. Slowly the concrete cement blocks and iron girders came together to form what seemed like either a five star hotel or a mall. It couldn’t be a mall, one thought, Inorbit was barely a hop, skip and a jump away. And the good lord wouldnt be so cruel as to place a mall next door when I was on a freeze the credit card abhiyaan. But no, a mall it was to be, the buzz gathered momentum and became a drone, which peaked to an incessant whine around the park, around the complex, around the neighbourhood.
Infinity 2 was opening here.
“The traffic is going to get effed,” said the spouse with a chin tucked into his waistband at the prospect, considering he is designated driver these days. No, I am not the designated drunk to that, if that was your next question, thank you.
“These kids will want to go to the games court every single day,” shuddered friends who had just about weaned their little monsters off the steady diet on charge cards which let them play infernal video games on machines that are so loud and so concentrated together that the venue could be ideal torture zone for crime perpetrators when confessions needed to be extracted. Five minutes in that infernal din and they would be singing any song dictated by the investigator in order to be taken to a saner, quieter place.
“I don’t even want to think about how much I’m going to shop now.” Yup. That was yours truly. Given that the perfect antidote to a bad mood, PMS and regular troughs in domestic situation has always been a good round of shopping for stuff I already have, or will never fit in, or use, or will salt away in the cupboard for perfect situation to air them which of course will never arrive given that I have a social life which would make worker ants seem like they’re living it up, I really didn’t need another mall right next door.
“We’re going to have so many lunches there!” This from more ardent advocate of the ladies lunch concept amongst our girl gang, given that Mainland China and Zaffran were opening up right there. I could just visualise us, eating up everything in sight at the buffet and spreading into pleasant matronliness within the inaugural month. What? We are already at pleasant matronly levels? Ah well…
This evening we just might be at Infinity 2. To check out the buzz, the mood, the vibe of a spanking fresh new mall. (Psst, is there a new mall smell I should watch, err, sniff out for, like new car smell?) Or we might just be stuck in traffic.
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