2 Self-Defense Lessons for Women

I did my PhD in Chicago. During my PhD, I took three semesters of self-defense classes. The instructor was a middle aged white male, with a bald head and a strong grip. He taught us two lessons of life.

          1.  Play the survivor, not the victim.

He wanted all the women, who attended the class to takeaway one message. ‘If you are in a compromising situation, fight with all you have got. If something bad happens to you, you will be able to live with yourself, knowing that you did all you could, to escape from that situation.’

         2. Show no mercy on the attacker.

We practiced one self-defense technique every semester. He grabbed us, dragged us, lifted us, pulled us with our hair and choked us with his bare hands. We had to escape from those situations. As the semester progressed, we perfected the technique. A few sessions would be so intense, that he had to clap on the floor three times to escape from us. That was our cue to stop practicing the technique. In such situations, the ‘sorry’ genes of women used to kick in. A few of us, involuntarily told him 'sorry' after the attack. Even though both of us would be tired after the attack, he pounced on us. That was our lesson, ‘Never say sorry to your attacker, no matter who he/she is.’

Do we find any real-life examples of women who practiced these two lessons?

Yes, the Rohtak sisters. The initial version of the story said that they fought back against molestors on a bus. They played a survivor and showed no mercy towards the attacker. The later versions of the stories brand these two sisters as cheap women who go around beating men for no reason.

Before you start bitch-ifying the sisters, I ask you to take into account these two generic facts about Indians.

1.      The behavior of a man is 100 % certified. He can do no wrong. The behavior of a woman is 0% certified. Her character is always questionable & malign able.
2.      We Indians, never recognize the merit of our fellow Indians. We recognize only if a U.S. based agency recognizes them and gives an award. Then we all want to bask in the limelight of fellow Indian-ness.

I want the Rohtak sisters to be given the bravery award. Why?

I am tired of all the rape victim stories in the media. We need survivor stories. This incident is the right survivor story to make that transition.

The Rohtak Sisters

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Image from http://www.tupaki.com/news/view/Haryana-govt-puts-award-for-Rohtak-sisters-on-hold/83417

You Go Girl! - A Poem by Taslima Nasreen

Vogue India Magazine is celebrating it's Seventh Anniversary this October. The October Issue is dedicated to women's empowerment. They have a 62-page gallery which features over 150 prominent people (mostly women), with snippets of wisdom related to gender-bias and women empowerment issues. 

In the October issue, I read a poem written by Taslima Nasreen. The poem made me get up from my comfy sofa and write this post. The poem is beautiful, radical, inspiring and I bet will end with a chuckle.

They said-take it easy...

Said-calm down...

Said-stop talkin'...

Said-shut up...

They said-sit down...

Said-bow your head...

Said-keep on cryin', let the tears roll...

What should you do in response?

You should stand up now

Should stand right up

Hold your back straight

Hold your head high...

You should speak

Speak your mind

Speak it loudly

Scream!

You should scream so loud that they must run for cover

They will say-'You are shameless!'

When you hear that, just laugh...

They will say-'You have a loose character!'

When you hear that, just laugh louder...

They will say-'You are rotten!'

So just laugh, laugh even louder...

Hearing you laugh, they will shout,

'You are a whore!'

When they say that,

just put your hands on your hips,

stand firm and say

"Yes, yes, I am a whore!"

They will be shocked

They will stare in disbelief

They will wait for you to say more, much more...

The men amongst them will turn red and sweat.

The women amongst them will dream to be a whore like you."

Taslima Nasreen is a writer and a human rights activist

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Image from google images

How to make Bathukamma?

Making Bathukamma is a tedious but entertaining process, if the whole family gets together and helps. It can be made with 5, 7, 9 or 11 kinds of flowers. The flowers used in the preparation are tangedu (cassia), gunugu (celosia), velvet flower, banthi (marigold), chamanthi (chrysanthemum), lotus and pumpkin flower. 

(L to R) Flowers used for making bathukamma, tangedu (cassia), gunugu (celosia), velvet flower, banthi (marigold), chamanthi (chrysanthemum), lotus and pumpkin flower (images collage created from google images)

The cassia and gunugu flowers should be sorted and tied together. Each banthi flower has to be pierced with a short wooden stick so that it will stand without collapsing in the flower arrangement. 

The preparation of the flowers for Bathukamma takes about 5-7 hours based on the size of the Bathukamma. Arrangement of the Bathukamma takes about two to three hours. The waste created after sorting the flowers will be used in the belly of the pyramidal structure. Step by step process is shown in the below video. 

  

Bangari Bathukamma

Bathukamma strikes again! It was celebrated on a grand scale in the new Telangana State. In the struggle for the formation of Telangana State, Bathukamma was celebrated to highlight our distinctiveness from Andhra Pradesh. After formation of Telangana State, the festival was celebrated as a show of victory.

There are different Bathukamma legends. One story is that Goddess Gauri after winning the battle with the demon Mahishasura, gets tired and rests. All the women pray for her revival by making beautiful pyramid shaped flower arrangements and pray Bathuku Amma (Live Mother). The Bathukammas (flower arrangement) will be baded goodbye by placing them carefully in the water to be carried away by the waves.

There is a story behind immersing Bathukammas in the water. A sister comes to brother’s house to visit him. The brother leaves to the town on some work, just before she comes. The sister decides to stay until her brother comes home. She goes to the lake to bathe along with her sister-in-law. Their clothes on the bank of the river get mixed up. The sister ties the saree of her sister-in-law and vice versa. They have a fight and the sister-in-law throws the sister in the river. In the night, the sister comes in the brother's dream and tells him the sordid story of her death. Her brother goes to the river, and on the bank, he sees a tangedu plant. His sister says, ‘I became the tangedu plant after sister-in-law threw me into the water. Make Bathukamma with tangedu poolu and throw it into the river’ and her brother does as he is told and the Bathukammas are immersed in water to this day.

What I love about Bathukamma is the celebration of feminity on a grand scale. All the women are dressed in their traditional attire, in sparkling zari sarees, pattulangas or chudidhars. (My hubby jokes that it is one day of the year, he sees me in a sari). Women bedeck themselves from head to toe. Women wear garlands of jasmine flowers in the hair, gold necklaces, and rows of multi-colored bangles on the wrists, mehendi on hands and anklets on the feet. They carry bathkammas to the nearby temple and dance around the Bathukamma in circles and clap their hands. Later the Bathukammas are placed in a waterbody.    

The velvet flower, also called as Sita jada kucchu

Gunugu flowers, tied into small bunches, and their pointy edges removed

Marigold flowers, pierced with short sticks so that they will withstand without collapsing in the Bathukamma formation

Bangari Bathukamma

Beautiful top view

Women dressed in their best attire and walking towards Padmakshi temple, Hanumakonda

The street was flooded with women of all ages and sizes

The expressions of the women in this photograph have a lot of depth. Needless to say that they are looking at me.

Janasamudram (An ocean of people)

The biggest Bathukamma I have seen

Women dancing around the Bathukammas and clapping their hands

Bathukamma Photographs Courtesy: Pradeep Kumar Gouda

Changing India, one ad at a time

I hate cricket but my Dad loves it. When I was young, whenever he watched cricket, I used to watch the ads. Due to that forcible viewing, I did not appreciate cricket but I did appreciate the ads. They were my source of entertainment, interspersed with the boring matches. My interest in advertisements persists to this day. Any new ad, I have to see it and make a judgement about it.

  

In the recent years, there are a lot of women-centric ads. I am both surprised and happy about it. The first ad that I saw in this category, was the Whirlpool ad, in which the husband comes home and greets his wife with a glass of cold coffee. There are at least 2 or 3 ads, where the lady requests her husband to make coffee (Bru)/tea for her. 

     A jockey ad, adds a twist to a relationship, by showing a woman proposing to a man. In a recent coca-cola ad, the in-laws come to visit their daughter-in-law and ask her not to be too formal, but to share a drink with them. In a jeweller’s ad the in-laws encourage their daughter-in-law to keep her maiden name. In an Amazon ad, Mrs. Varma buys a smart phone for Mr. Varma, for Diwali. 

        Don’t get me started on the airtel ad, in which the guy’s boss is his wife. My only complaint is that not only she has to be the perfect working woman but also the perfect homemaker, who slogs in the kitchen to make a wonderful dinner after a working day. Why didn't they show her giving orders to a cook? (In the Indian scenario, where domestic help is affordable)  

The point that I want to make is that most of the brands have realized that women are major consumers too and they have the moolah to buy. They want to win over women. The women-centric ads, are showing women to be independent decision makers and pushing certain values, such as more domestic help from the husbands, being financially independent, assertive and having open minded in-laws. I think of these ads as small snippets of progress, which can change the mindset of a nation, slowly but steadily. But we are not where we want to be yet. I hope to see the day, where daddies are in the diaper ads, and male models stand beside the latest car models in the auto expo.

The Whirlpool Ad, in which the husband makes cold coffee for wife.

The Bru Ad in which the husband makes coffee for wife, but that involves a bit of manipulation from the wife's side.

The Jockey Ad, in which the woman proposes to the man

Formality hatao, Coca-Cola Pilao

The Airtel ad in which the wife is the boss

Oh my God! Men are turning into Women!

In a leadership workshop at my workplace, an American woman, who is in one of the top leadership positions in our company, spoke about her life experiences/hurdles. Her major career roadblock was having 3 three kids in 4 years. The only option she had was to keep working and go to a mental institution or quit her job. She stuck with the first option and kept on working and few years down the line, she is managing a global team. She recounted an experience which I will always remember. Her neighbor was a working woman, who gave up her career to raise children. After about 15 years, the children left home for school.  The neighbor lady remarked to her, ‘I thought my kids will be different because I stayed at home to bring them up. Now, I look at my kids and yours, they are not at all different.’ The manager lady was like, ‘What? Just because I was a working mother, you expected my kids to become some kind of anti-social elements?’ Well, she didn't tell her neighbor that, she just kept silent.

In Apurva Purohit’s book, ‘Lady you’re Not a Man’, she writes about the guilt demon which tags along with women wherever they go and whatever they do. If you give up your career to raise children, you feel guilty about wasting your education. If you are a working mother, you feel guilty about not being with your child all the time. Apruva asks, which guilt are you more comfortable with? Leaving a career or leaving your child a few hours in a day? Because being guilt-free is a no-option for a woman.  

There are few other points in Apurva's book, which make you pause and think.

She sees many women who stop working after they are married, either because their in-laws don’t support it or  because their husbands' are too rich. She says before quitting, think about all the women who could not afford the right education to be in the position that you are. She tells, you are wasting all that education, and the opportunity to use that education to gain financial independence for a very trivial reason. Really think before giving up.

For a woman to be successful, she requires a support system, at home and at work. Ask for help, especially in upbringing children. It is true that, ‘it takes a village to bring up a child.’

   

Just because you are woman, it does not mean that you are the only one having tough life. Men face challenges too. The society stereotypes them as the primary provider and protector of the family. A woman can quit her job anytime, stay at home to bring up kids and can be seen as a martyr of the society. Men cannot do that.

Women are better at multitasking than men. In this age, we have to juggle a lot of things, both at the workplace and at home. Eventually men will have no other option but to evolve into women to survive.  Men are on their way to becoming better at multitasking and being more empathetic.    

The book, ‘Lady You’re Not a Man’, was an absolute delight to read.  I definitely recommend this book for reading (especially to women). 

Blame it on the Woman

Those were the days when lot of changes were happening in my life. I moved to Bangalore for work, got married and was setting up a home. In that a hectic schedule, Malvi's presence was like a breath of fresh air. She was my first cook in Bangalore.  

Malvi was a woman in late twenties. She had a huge red bindi on her forehead, which contrasted against her dark skin. Her only makeup was her smile. She showed me with a smile, the bruises on her hand and the injury on her leg. She complained with a smile about her eye infection and her son's leg fracture. I loved that in her, her smile, which showed that she cared less about her troubles. 

Malvi told me about her marriage. She told me about her husband, who made guest appearances at home, inaccessible most of the time. Malvi’s was a love marriage, which became unpleasant over the years. She eloped with her fiancé, when she was in 10^th standard. He was an auto driver then. He threatened her to marry him and given the innocence of her age, she did marry him. Her family did not approve of the marriage and she had to severe her relationship with most of her family, save her brother.

One quirk of Malvi’s character was that she never stepped into the apartment if I wasn't there. If my husband was at home, she used to wait for me near the elevator. That irritated the hungry me, waiting to devour dinner after a long day at work and her behavior perplexed my husband.

One fine day, she told me, ‘Madam, I will not be coming.’

I thought it was temporary break. I asked her, ‘Will you be coming after two or three days?’

She replied, ‘No Madam. I am quitting the job. I am moving to Mysore with my family.’

Malvi’s resignation was a huge blow to me. I have been enjoying all the dishes cooked by her and the extra time I got sans the cooking.

I scolded her, ‘You should have told me earlier. Where will I get a cook now at such a short notice? Why are you moving to Mysore?’

Malvi replied,”My husband is not answering my calls anymore. I came to know that he is in Mysore, at his home. He is threatening to end our marriage. My husband says that, ‘She goes to houses, who knows what nonsense she does there?’ 

I can live on my own. I have been doing so for the past three months. But my brother wants me to get back with him for the sake of the kids’. My husband wants me to stay home and not go for work anywhere. Where will I get the money to run the house and to pay for kids’ schools then? He doesn't earn any money and neither does he want me to.”

Malvi consoled me saying that, ‘I will go to him with the kids and ask him to return. If he sees the kids, maybe that will change his mind. If all goes well, I will return soon enough.’

                                                                          

I waited for Malvi for almost a month, hoping that she would return. After the initial excitement of helping me in the kitchen fizzled away, my husband entreated me to appoint another cook. A few months later, her son showed up at my doorstep and asked for her mother’s last month's salary. He told me that they moved to Mysore. I gave him the salary, without any complaints. Malvi deserved it.

I had several culinary relationships after Malvi, but none of them lasted long enough. 

Happy Mother's Day

I typed the e-mail. My mouse pointer was on the send button. Should I send it? Should I save it and send it the following day, when I am not so emotional? I just wanted to let out my feelings and did not care about how the other person would feel after reading the e-mail. I took her for granted. She would always be there for me until the day she has to leave this earth. Music was blaring out of my earphones. The music subsided my thoughts which were zooming from one end of my head to the other at supersonic speed. I clicked 'send'. I was no longer listening to the the track my iphone played. I stared at my gmail account and checked the sent mail. I should not have sent that e-mail to her. Now, it was too late. She would open her e-mail account and see the e-mail from her daughter. She would read it. She would feel anger, disappointment or remorse. I would never know what her feelings would be.

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This short story is dedicated to all the mothers' who are patient enough with their offspring, who take them for granted. 

                                                         Me with my Grandmother & Mother

Management Lesson from the Kitchen

Many of you must be wondering why you didn't see a post on my blog, last week. Well, I was voluntarily enrolled in a ‘Management lesson from the kitchen’ course. I didn't have much time to do anything else. How does a mundane kitchen teach lessons in management? It all started like this.

A few relatives visited my home, last week.  It consisted of my mother-in-law’s sister, her husband, and their two kids aged 8 and 13 years and my brother-in-law. Until now, I have cooked for maximum of two to four people. Being the woman of the house, I had to take the responsibility of the breakfast, lunch and dinner for all the seven of us. I was surprised as to how much effort takes in making a decent meal for seven people, three times a day. All the more, my mother-in-law is a vegetarian, my brother-in-law an eggetarian, my cousins daltarian or pappucharutarian (eat only dal, sambar or pappucharu), my husband and my father-in-law are non-vegetarian. Whatever the menu, it had to cater to the eating habits of all these four sects of people; hence there should be minimum three dishes, which excludes rice/chapthi and yoghurt.  The day used to start with breakfast. By the time I was done with the breakfast, it was time to prepare lunch. By the time, I was done with the lunch it was already 3 PM. I was on my feet from 8 AM to 3 PM. The dinner preparations started from 7 PM. Thankfully, I have a cook, so my effort involved in directing her what to do. In spite of all this planning and hard work, my husband came to me and asked, ‘Aren’t you making dal?’. I did reprimand him and gave an expression which conveyed a very deep meaning. 

After this exercise for about three days, I was exhausted. I also had a new found appreciation for my mother and my mother-in-law. My mother is a Gynaecologist. In spite of her busy work life, she always kept on the table, the most well-balanced meal for the four of us (my father, grandmother and I) every day. She also had a special menu every Sunday, used to entertain guests sometimes and she always worked solo in the kitchen, with a little help from me and my grandmother. My mother-in-law is a homemaker and is from a big family. She entertains lot of relatives for festivals/family functions, which also involves considerable cooking.

The woman’s role in the kitchen is quite trivialized. It is not as inconsequential as it seems. The kitchen teaches important lessons in management.What are the management lessons I learned?

 1.Groundwork: Who will eat what? What will they eat heartily, what could they leave? Is anybody following a special ritual on that day? ( no eggs or meat on one weekday)

 2.Planning: How many people are there? What has to be cooked? How much has to be cooked so that it will be sufficient for everybody? What are the ingredients required? Are there any preparations to be made the day before? (For example, idli, dosa etc.)

 3.Delegation: Whom to delegate what responsibility? Who will go outside and get the required stuff? Who will cut the veggies? Who will make what dishes? Etc.

 4.Execution: There are only two stoves. Which dishes go first on the stoves? What should go next? How can the two stoves keep on running simultaneously for maximum savings in time?

 5.Appraisal: Needless to say this never goes as well as planned. The men come onto the dinner table, eat and leave with least appreciation. There goes a ton of effort unobserved and taken for granted. I did belong to this league until I started cooking. After that I started appreciating my mother, whenever possible.

I hope that the next time a woman in your family goes an extra mile to cook something delicious, appreciate her each and every time. This is one of the best forms of appreciation any woman can receive for all her hard work.

Let the Ungli Olympics begin!

Couple of months ago, I saw an interesting ad on TV. The setting is a beauty parlor. A woman is having a manicure. She looks at the beautician. The girl is young and looks rustic. The woman wants to make fun of the girl in front of her friends. She asks her, 'What do you do to protect yourself?'

I was expecting the answer to be on lines of an app which provides the location or a pepper spray to defend against the offenders. 

The girls answers, 'I put a black tika'

The woman laughs, repeats loudly what the girl said, 'A black tika?'. She also looks at her friends who also smile at the stupidity of the girl.

The girl shows her forefinger which has the black tika (election ink). The woman and her friends will be ashamed. 

I am surprised by the amount of publicity  the elections have got and I am happy about that. Ads on TV and requests on radio, entreat the people to vote and make a difference. A vote can change our decrepit and corrupt political system. 91.8 tag line is, 'This is the radio station for fun, young and responsible Bangalore. Responsible Bangaloreans who vote. If you don't vote, you don't have the right to complain.' 93.5 Disha Oberoi says, 'On April 17th, we 74 lakh Bangaloreans, dabake bajayenge, 93.5 redfm bajathe raho'. The tagline I love the most is by Nishant and Raj from 93.5 red fm, they call it 'Ungli Olympics.' 

Every time, I listen to these ads, I feel a pang of guilt. Guilty of not being able to vote and participate in this historic election. Why? I applied for a voter id in Bangalore, not once but twice, once in 2013 and again in 2014. Bangalore Chief Electoral officer decided not to give me the right to vote. Since then, I have been going around, asking people at my work place, 'Can you vote?', If they say yes then I tell my sad story. If they say no, then also I will tell my sad story. We both empathize about our misfortune and decide to keep on applying for voter id until we get our fundamental right.  

There is election fever everywhere. There is a tug of war between the man who gets slapped left and right, a man who cannot deliver a few sentences without being made fun of and another who is promoting chai, and highlighting Gujarat to be the best state in the whole wide world. Given the credentials of the contenders, I must admit, I am also looking forward for the results. If you are one of the 74 lakh bangaloreans who have the right of vote, please do vote on April 17. Take picture of your finger with the black tika, post it on facebook, twitter and pinterest, and encourage others to vote. A proud act deserves to be publicized. Do yourself and the country a big favor, while I stew in my regret. Let the Ungli Olympics begin!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

Hairy Tales

A couple of years ago, I read an issue in Femina regarding women’s independence. The question was, what do you need independence from? Few of the answers were, I need independence to roam late into the night and not be raped or asked questions. I need independence to spend my hard earned money without giving an explanation to someone. One person wrote, I need independence to cut my hair. Independence to cut my hair! I thought, ‘Well, that is weird.’ I did not realize how serious this hairy issue was until after my marriage. A few days into my marriage, my husband made a deal with me, not to cut my hair too short. We negotiated that until I turn 35 years, I will keep my hair length below my shoulders.

Before I delve into this topic of hairy independence, you have to know my hairy history. When I was a kid, about 3-6 years old, I loved my hair. I never wanted to cut it. In those good old days, the barber came to my house to cut my hair. At that point of time, I used to roll up in bed, pretend to sleep and not hear my mother saying that barber uncle has come. When my mom succeeded in waking me up, I hated the sight of the barber with the shiny scissors in one hand, a comb in the other, a stool in front of him, waiting for my hair to be sacrificed. After I cut my hair, my Aunt used to comment, ‘It is’nt short enough, the hair has to be above the ear. Next time cut it like that.’ I used seethe inside at her comment.

In the age of 7-10 years, I made artificial wigs with the towels and kept roaming around the house like that. The hair could be pink, yellow, green or any mixed color depending on the towel's color. The wig was until my hips. My mom has few of those pictures and I hate to show them to anybody. It was kind of a protest I put up to have the freedom to grow hair. My mom either felt sad or got tired of my protests and allowed me to grow my hair. Gee! Finally I get to have long hair. I grew hair until my 10^th standard. I used to tie a plait, which came until my waist.

The hair troubles started soon.  My hair is not silky. It is the wavy kind. If I wash my hair, it curls up like maggi noodles. Sunday evening was a traumatic experience. My hair all free and tangled was to be tamed my mother, by applying loads of oil and pulling it by the comb. The session used to go something like this.

‘Abba! You are hurting my hair.’

‘I am hurting your hair! Look how gentle I am.’, and then she used to pull it again

My mother used to pull my head back. I used to pull it forward. She used to say, ‘Why can’t you sit straight up? If you do like this it will hurt more’.

I felt that my mother took the revenge of my teenage disobedience/arrogance on my hair.

After these hair oiling and hair pulling sessions for about one year. I decided, ‘Enough! I am going to cut my hair’. Since then I kept my hair short, just below the shoulders. I sometimes feel the itch to have a bobbed cut, cut my hair just like my aunt asked me to, above the ear. I do not have independence to cut my hair yet, because of the deal I made with my husband.

What are your hairy tales? Do you have independence to cut your hair?

What to use to get beautiful hair?

Unbound - Indian Women at Work by Gita Aravamudan

My kindle took a vacation from me and is currently in Hyderabad. I had no option but to go to the local bookstore and pick up a few books. One of those books was Unbound. 

Gita Aravamudan is the author of the book, Unbound, Indian Women @ Work.  This book has stories about women at the workplace. The stories are from varied professions, IT, film industry, hospitality and social services. Gita has divided her book into different sections. In Unbinding, it is about women, who had to come out of the four walls of their home, to fend for their families and to elevate their social status.

Dr. Vatsala Samant, headed the hospital built by Pandit Nehru, in Allahabad. She married an Airforce Officer. A busy doctor and a roaming Airforce officer is not a good combination for work-life balance. Vatsala’s daughter, Sameeta decided to be a stay-at-home mother. Sameeta made this decision because she missed having a normal mother. Due to weird quirk of fate, Sameeta lost her husband at age of 42. Sameeta had no other option but to work, to support her kids. She became a busy mother too, but out of necessity.

Another story is about Sumati, who is from the third generation of domestic service providers. She worked hard, to become a telemarketing agent, and released the family from the bondage of domestic service.

In Husbands, Babies and Motherhood, Gita writes about  women who quit their jobs after having a baby.  After the gap, they excelled in a completely different field. Neeta, worked as a software engineer for ten years. She took a break for four years after birth of her first and second child. After the break, she entered handicrafts business and became successful. Riti, a journalist took a break from a full time journalism career of twenty years to spend with her daughter Amala. After the gap, she founded an enterprise, Riti’s Murder Games, which conducted proactive murder mysteries. A Chief sub-editor at Indian express became a Radio Jockey.

In Perceptions, Gita wrote how society perceives men and women and how it affects a woman’s life. The concept that man is the bread winner is ingrained in Indian Culture. It is the primary responsibility of a man to take care of his family, whereas it is not the responsibility of a woman. Hence a woman does not need her job as much as a man does. During the recession, in 2009, women were given more pink slips than men. In one of the stories, a manager has fired his woman employee and asked her to see it as an opportunity to spend quality time with her kids. 

New Delhi based journalist, Nisha Susan George and her three friends started the pink chaddi campaign. The idea was to collect pink chaddis from all over the country. The pink chaddis were sent to Pramod Muthalik and his men on Valentines Day to spread the message of love. Pramod Muthalik was the founder of Rama Sene. In 2009, his men barged into the pub Amnesia and beat up a group of young women to straighten them up. They were fanatics who viewed women’s independence as threat to the existing patriarchal structure. 

Being an Indian working woman, I could relate to the stories that Gita wrote in her book. On the occasion of Women’s Day, I would recommend women to read this book. It has overwhelming and inspiring stories about ordinary women like you and me and their extraordinary journey through life.

An Act of True Love

Last week, I watched the movie, Frozen.  The movie is a simple story of two sisters and the wonderful bond they share. The two sisters are the princesses of a kingdom. The elder sister has the power to create ice. Unfortunately, she cannot control her power. On her coronation day, after her power gets exposed to her subjects, she runs away from the palace to the Northern Mountain. The younger sister goes in search of her sister and confronts her. The elder sister accidentally freezes the younger sister's heart. An act of true love is required for the younger sister to live.

The moment I heard about true love, I thought, ‘Phew! A kiss from a prince to save the princess; Why can’t Disney make more meaningful movies?’ 

I belong to an era in which I watched Cinderella, Snow White and Seven Dwarfs and Sleeping Beauty, as I grew up. In Snow White and Seven Dwarfs, the princess goes into a coma like situation and a prince has to kiss her red lips to revive her. In Sleeping Beauty, the princess touches the tip of the spindle and falls asleep, only a kiss from a handsome prince could bring her out of her misery. Kisses from princes always save the day for the princesses. If women face any hardship in their teens, they should wait for their true love to stumble by and get a kiss from them. The kiss solves all the problems and the princes and the princess can live happily ever after.

It is no surprise that I was disappointed that an act of true love, in the movie Frozen, will be another kiss from a handsome prince. Disney has proved me wrong. It was an act of true love between the sisters. The younger sister almost sacrifices her life for her elder sister. It was a happy ending, as it always is. 

Disney is changing with the times and came up with a story which showed love failure and highlighted the relationship between siblings. There are so many other wonderful relationships other than just love and Disney made an entire movie around it. I hope that Disney brings much more meaningful movies like Frozen, in the future. 

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I am always a great admirer of how Disney animates it’s non-human characters. In the movie, Frozen,  it was the reindeer and the snow man, which had human-like expressions and emotions.

In the movie, Tangled, it was the horse and the chameleon.

Virtuous Animals

Do you know about the lion and rabbit story in Panchatantra? There was once a greedy lion that used to kill and terrorize animals just for the pleasure of it. All the animals in the forest went to the lion and made a pact with the lion. They asked the lion to stop the unnecessary killing and they would send an animal every day to the lion as his meal. The lion liked this agreement. One day it was the turn of an intelligent rabbit to become the lunch of the lion. It went to the lion very late. By that time, the lion was very angry and it decided to kill all the animals in the forest to teach them a lesson. The rabbit went and told the lion of another powerful lion in the forest. The lion asked it to show where it was. The rabbit took him to the well. The lion looked into the well and thought of its reflection as another lion and roared. The roar echoed and the stupid lion jumped into the well to battle with the other lion and died. All the animals celebrated the death of the cruel lion.

What did this story tell me? The animals in the forest recognized the lion to be greedy and wanted to get rid of it. The lion was called greedy because it desired more than what it had and killed the other animals just for the fun of it, even though it was not hungry. It told me that the animals were virtuous. They had values which they stick to, they hunt only when hungry. They do not hoard their kill.

What about humans? We hunt all the time. We are the greediest animals on planet Earth; we covet for what is not ours. We hunt for wealth, for power and for satisfying sexual pleasures. The hunters look for the people who are weak and can be succumbed easily. The hunters wield the weapons and threaten the victims to get what they want. The hunted are non-existent people in the eyes of the police and the judiciary. They are neither rich nor powerful, they are either poor or middle-class.

The attack on a woman in a Bangalore ATM made me realize that it is time for humans to learn virtues from animals. The incident has shocked many, because it happened in broad day light and in a crowded area. It shocked me because the miscreant came prepared with the weapons. He was bent on getting what he wanted no matter the consequences.

The attacker entered the ATM, closed the shutters and asked the woman to withdraw money. When she refused, he hit her on the head three times with a machete. After she was unconscious he took the valuables in her purse and fled. After sometime, a few passersby noticed the blood; they called the police, who rushed her to the hospital. The woman is now conscious but the right of her body is paralyzed. The hunter is still on the loose. The problem is that we do not have intelligent rabbits anymore; they have become lazy and refuse to use their intelligence on such trivial issues. After all what is the value of a poor or a middle class ‘Indian’ life? It is nothing. 

Pink October

You get what you get when you get them

This is what Clair Huxtable tells to her daughter Rudy Huxtable in the Cosby Show. It is the end of summer and Rudy has to go to school. She feels bad that she is still a young girl, because her breasts haven’t come yet. Rudy feels that she will be ridiculed by her class boys. One of her friends brings a bust enhancer cream that promises to guarantee results in just two days. Rudy asks Clair if she can excuse herself for 48 hours from school. Clair and her husband Bill Cosby dig deep into why she needs the 48 hour break. When they come know the cream, they had to force themselves to stop laughing and explain to her that it does not work that way.

Cosby tells to Rudy, ‘You can as well put mayonnaise on your chest and get the same results’.  

Clair explains to Rudy, ‘Growing up to be a woman is a natural biological process and you cannot speed it up. You get what you get when you get them’

Ruby obliges and decides to go to school.

October is the breast cancer awareness month and I could not get this story out of my mind whenever I saw the pink ribbon in my e-mails. In my company, we do a human formation of the pink ribbon and wear a pink colored dress on one of the days in October to show our support for the cause.

 I told one of my friends, ‘Tomorrow is a breast cancer awareness day in my company’

She asked, ‘What are you going to do?’

‘We are going to make a human formation’

‘Of the br…?’

‘No silly of the pink ribbon’

The pink ribbon is the symbol of breast cancer awareness not the breasts.

I also wondered what this big ado about breast cancer is. I have heard about the campaigns in the U.S., I did not know that in India as well, we are having such awareness sessions. The Indian Council of Medical Research (ICMR) has concluded that over the past two decades, there is a steep rise in the number of breast cancer cases in India. As a matter of fact, breast cancer has been declared the most common form of cancer in India, surpassing cervical cancer. In metropolitan cities almost 1 in 20 women are suffering from breast cancer and Bangalore is the breast cancer capital of India. Now, I am glad that I am aware of this malignant disease. More statistics regarding breast cancer can be found at this website - http://www.breastcancerindia.net/bc/statistics/trends.htm

Early detection of breast cancer can save lives. Medical professionals recommend self examination of the breasts in the ages of 25 to 30, clinical breast examination after 30 and Mammography after 40, once in every 1-2 years. Mammography is a diagnostic and screening tool to examine the breasts and detect lumps or microcalcificatoins (coarse calcium deposits) in the breasts. Mammography is a non-intrusive procedure, there is only some discomfort. About 70 % of the unscreened women succumbed to breast cancer, whereas only 30 % of the screened women became victims of breast cancer. Mammography does save lives.

(http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865587620/Research-points-to-lives-saved-by-regular-mammography-screening.html).  

Women as well as men love boobs. It is time to take a stand and detect this demon early, for a long healthy life.

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All images from google images