Wiring change required

A friend posted a random video and as per form, I clicked on the link and watched it.
Another friend commented on it saying the video came across as vaguely weird to her, she was unable to express her thoughts in words and we had a discussion.

The video portrayed a woman walking down a busy lane post sunset. A bunch of well dressed, beer guzzling romeos follow her, eve teasing happens in full swing till she turns to one of the guys and freezes. The future molester/ rapist freezes and in a shocked tone of voice asks the other guys to stop and desist ... because she is his sister.

So the question is, does one stop eve teasing only because one has a mother or a sister or a wife at home?
Or does one stop eve teasing because it is just plain disrespectful to another human being?

A woman should be respected for being. Not for being someone's someone.

Major re-wiring of mentality is what we need.

Carrom Stories

I come from a large family. A family that believes in getting together at the drop of the hat and food, food invariably plays a large part in all our gatherings. But this, is not about eating, it is about that other very important ritual that unfortunately has ceased being as important.

Carrom was not just an indoor game for the Amoors. When we visited our grandparent’s home (which was every other weekend), it used to become a battle ground. Tactics were made, teams were decided and the air burnt blue with curses and victory cries. Pride was taken in polishing and cleaning the ‘Olympic sized board’. Lights were adjusted and fixed so there was adequate lighting but no shadows. Fans were placed at a strategic distance so the players did not get uncomfortable under the hot asbestos roof whilst making sure that the flow of wind did not play havoc with their aim. Food and water was supplied at regular intervals. Coin-boys and girls were chosen (the little ones who would pick any coin that fell on the floor, would help with powdering the board with the ‘finest quality boric powder’ and generally play fetch).

My youngest uncle was a much sought partner, because when he got hold of the striker, the opposition might as well go out for a stroll. He cleaned the board with finesse and cleared shots that looked near impossible. My other uncles, brother and appa were pretty good too. All in all, it is safe to say that we littlies never had a chance in hell in playing a full game when the elders were at it. Though just watching them play was an adrenaline rush. And sometimes, when we got lucky, we were taught tricks of the trade.

My appa had invested in a similarly large Carrom board at home. Every evening, a bunch of my brother’s friends would come in and play the game. It was a riotous affair. Sometimes appa and I would team up against my brother and amma and play for hours. Some of my happiest memories stem from those hours of Carrom.

Then one day, it all stopped. I have no clue why. We still have large noisy family gatherings, we still have my brother’s friends dropping by… but somehow, Carrom is not part of our lives anymore… and it makes me melancholic.

When we went for our annual vacation last month, Ankita got hooked to Carrom again. Sriram and Ankita and I played some games. It all just came back in a rush. The moods, the arguments, the sheer joy of playing a beloved game so long forgotten… and I know I want it for my girl and her cousins and friends. I want her to understand the intense joy of playing together as a family, as part of a team.

Do not think at me like that

I have come across so many men, good well educated men who would go out of their way to help a woman in need, who take good care of their girl friends, sisters, mother.... and yet, yet they do not think twice about discussing a woman's anatomy in the basest of ways, just because she is a celebrity or a complete stranger who "is dressed provocatively" or voices her thoughts or is "aggressive"...

Is it wrong to appreciate beauty? Absolutely not. 

But is it wrong to objectify it? You better believe it. And it is not appreciated. At all.

Dear men,

When you look at me

And discuss my anatomy

With friends, with yourself

I hurt.

It makes me want to cringe and cover

and shy away.

You may say you are educated

and respect women

But really, think

Be honest with yourself first

Weren't you the one

Who laughed at the juicy ball joke?

Did I ask for it?

Like a violator would justify it by saying

Maybe I deserved it because I wore a tight t-shirt

Maybe I deserve it all.

It is time to wake up

And understand

I am not just an object

I am a person just like you

Yes I have a beautiful body

But I have a mind too

Don't look at me

and see flesh.

Look at me

and see me.

bricks and stones

Call me a racist

Because I have a religious symbol for a tattoo

Call me cruel

Because I will not bring the stray home

Call me stubborn

Because I do not want to look at things your way

Call me any name

Because it is not going to matter

As I am, what I am              

And my reasons are my own

My heart has bled

My back has bent

My eyes have dried out

So dear friendly advisor

Owner of saccharine tongue

Time for you to go

Because I am, what I am

And my reasons are my own