Sunday, 30 March 2014

Breaking the Culture of Silence in India

“I was a girl, now I am a woman, I came alone, I die alone.
People cried when I was born, when I die none will mourn.”
_________

Antim, 13 years old had not eaten properly since years. After all, she was a girl.  When she was born, the whole community had cried. Not tears of joy but of pain. After the torturous nine months that her mother had gone through, all everyone was expecting was to see the baby that would carry the family name ahead, bring joy to the community where having a baby girl was a sin. And when she came in, not only did the family-friends cried, the mother who had borne her in her uterus cried, from both her heart and her body. She was that’s why named Antim, which meant, the last one.

Her mother conceived almost as soon as she could again. And when her brother was born, that was the end of any happiness she could have seen in this world where patriarchy was the only rule that prevailed. While the whole crowd around her danced in joy, the pain she will have to go through was right in front of her, waiting to grab her like a demon. As she grew, she remained aloof of the basic joys of life: freedom, food and family. At 13, when she started menstruating for the first time, as confused as she was of the changes that were happening to her, she was unaware of the fact that now, the burden of being a woman had grabbed her, a burden she would have to deal with a smile on her face. No proper nutrition, thousand rules to abide by, and unaware of what she could have been, she was being trained to become a woman, a woman who her mother was, her grandmother was and may be her baby girl will be later.

Menstruation is a phenomenon that changes everything for a girl. As she dwindles with the body and emotional changes that happen to her, she is forced to take it as a curse instead of a blessing. On one hand where she can see her body change, on the other she sees how her curious mind is shut forever. Neither does her mother tell her what to do, nor does anybody else. Hygiene, nutrition, puberty, sex education are topics that are dusted under the carpet. As she grows, she realizes that she must have done sins to be born a woman.
______________

Suman, 23 years old sits beside me as we discuss the issues women face in the community. A look at her is enough to understand that though she smiles, she is empty inside. A mother to three girls, she has recently gone through her third abortion. In her six years of marriage, she has been pregnant almost always. With an expressionless face, she explains that somewhere women are born to live a life this way. The purpose of a woman coming on this earth is only to reproduce and so what she was going through seemed to her like a duty. Desires somewhere had died long ago, or maybe never existed at all.

She was married when she was 17 years old. A case of child marriage as she was, she had never seen her husband’s face, and so marriage was just another duty. In a small yet rich town of the most prosperous state of India, she came to her in-laws knowing the duties she was entitled to do. One of which was satisfying her husband in bed, another one being giving the family the heir, male heir. On one hand while she dwindled with expectations of the family growing every day for her to produce a baby boy, she was being cursed every day for failing to deliver. And so, one abortion after another she was loosing faith in her being able to fulfill her duty, failing to be the ideal woman she was defined to be since childhood. Droopy eyes with dark circles around, she was pregnant this time too and scared because soon she had to go through an ultrasound examination to know the sex of the baby. Little she know, its not she who defined the sex of the baby, biologically.  Suman as she was proudly named, which means a flower, had no meaning in her life because she wasn’t aware what blooming was all about.

Issues of Family Planning go way beyond the number of babies. It encompasses the awareness of contraception, rights to make that choice on using one, it entails the issues of Maternal and childcare, it entails patriarchy and control over bodies, involves issues of infection, HIV and Violence Against Women. It’s much more than contraception and incentives to get vasectomy or birth control.  The fact that even today women simply fail to say NO to their husbands and family pressures go beyond any government scheme or incentives given. The issue remains, of dialogue to move beyond ego issues of males related to condoms, of asking instead of forcing to have sex and reproduce.
_____________

Banwari, 55 years sat next to her granddaughter telling her how to cook as her mother went on the farm. She is greeted by the Nurse from the nearby Local health Clinic set up by the government asking her about the injection schedule for the baby boy just born. During the few minutes of conversation, she is tempted to ask her about the changes that she has been undergoing. She had been trying to ask her since months and so, after a lot of courage she shares her troubles. She goes on and describes a series of symptoms that she has been going through. Her knees have started to pain, she is having uneven periods.. the nurse tells her about Menopause but tries to explain to her how she should get herself tested for once. She shuns the idea, takes it as normal and shows her the door.

After two more months of pain and trouble, she wonders if she should have got those tests done. The local ayurveda doctor medicines didn’t work, neither did the priests prayers. The local community radio channel playing on the radio beside her grandson who lies there playing on the cot has the reporter discussing a similar problem. She is hesitant to discuss the issue with anyone, but after a lot of thinking she finally gathers the courage to call the doctor on the call-in show, happy that she isn’t sitting face to face with him. Being retold to get herself examined, she wonders if it was time to see a doctor.. silently, she gets back to her work. She looks at her grand daughter, maybe she sees in her a reflection of her own past. Named after Lord Krishna himself, she must show courage to handle all her pains.

While Menopause is a natural phenomenon, cervical cancers have been on a rise in the country of India. The fact that a woman would think a hundred times before she sees a doctor for a ‘personal’ problem that should not be spoken about to anyone, makes it evident that screening is slower even after awareness. Even today, when it comes to issues related to Maternal Health, Personal hygiene and Feminine care, women in rural India are just not ready to voice out their concerns, their fears. The will live in pain, as they have been trained to but never speak out, thereby remain voiceless.

_____________

These Three stories connect to the Culture of silence in India. Keep aside men. Keep aside social rituals. The fact that even a woman cannot easily talk to a woman about her troubles and get empathy in return makes it evident that even after 65 years of independence, women are crippled by social customs and age-old traditions to a level where they wont speak their desires out. Though systems of support outside family exist, the fact that the first connection should happen at home leaves them helpless. The culture of silence on issues of Menstruation, Maternal Health and Menopause have been there since ever, especially in Northern part of India. These three make women feel burdened of living and while she had faced the same in her childhood, she doesn’t easily take a step to fight for her daughter or daughter-in-law.

Privacy is good. But sometimes issues like these that are of common good, women good, need to be spoken out loud. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live” was a strong statement that Joan Didion had given long time ago. Such stories of pain and sorrow need to be spoken out loud in order to motivate women not to face troubles with a smile, but to voice out the issues they face, the pains they go through, the fears they live with.

What is the starting point?

“Starting a dialogue, maybe”

Friday, 28 March 2014

जीवन

मिट्टी की सुराही जैसा है जीवन 

कितना भी सम्भल के बनाओ 

कितना भी सपनों से सजाओ

अन्त में मिट्टी ही बन जाना है 

- Diary of an oxymoron



Wednesday, 26 March 2014

अटकी हुई

मैं हूँ नहीं परेशां आज फिर भी
न जाने किस बात कि बैचैनी है उलझा रही
जो वक़्त चला गया वोह दिखाई है दे रहा
जो जी रही हूँ वोह न जाने क्यूँ नहीं लगता सही

आगे जो होना है उसका किसको है पता
इस बात में नहीं हूँ मैं आज डूबी हुई
फिर भी न जाने क्या बात है उलझाये हुए
कि अटकी हुई है मेरे समय कि हर एक सुई

वक़्त भले ही है दौड़ रहा
थमी हुई हैं मेरी हर सांस आज
कैसे सुलझाऊँ मैं हर एक अपनी उधेड़बुन
इस असमंजस का कब मिलेगा कोई इलाज

जान नहीं, पहचान नहीं, फिर भी अटकी हुई हूँ मैं कहीं

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

The Distorted Mirror

I see you, You see me
Its a feeling oh so free
The world turns round and round
When the eyes meet, nothing else surrounds

When seeing becomes bare and bruises become naked
Practicality becomes outdated
The pretty and ugly comes alive at the same time
And everything makes sense, every word rhymes

I see you, you see me
The struggle begins to be, and not to be
Should you hide your scars or leave wounds open
Should you show the strong side, or show it as broken

When seeing becomes knowing and understanding flips
Emotions take an unprecedented trip
The likes and dislikes come alive on the surface
And everything seems senseless, meaningless seems the preface

I see you, you see me
It is a feeling of not being free
You hate it all, you judge every bit
Whatever you hated comes back, tat for tit

When seeing becomes hating and repulsion is felt
In the mirror, your image starts to slowly melt
Should you run away from the distorted version of you
Or stick around to cherish the feelings so rare and moments so few

I see you, you see me
Its the same, yet so different... thats all it is to be in this irony!

- Diary of an Oxymoron

The cycle; the break

I was born,
happiness aside,
the world only mourned
and all I thought was, I am falling

Its school time now,
excitement aside,
my brother is allowed to grow
and all I thought was, I am falling

As I grow up a girl,
Insecurities aside
I am not allowed to unfurl
and all I thought was, I am falling

When my bleeding periods started,
Comfort aside,
No help or knowledge was imparted
and all I thought was, I am falling

No school, no college I can go
Information aside,
I am taught just how to prepare dough
and all I thought was, I am falling

I am grown up girl forced to marry
Choices aside,
Traditions, norms, rules and babies is all I carry
and all I thought was, I am falling

Work on the field, work in the home
Incomes aside,
sitting beside the window my hair I comb
and all I thought was, I am falling

I die in pain, still nobody care
humanity aside,
I am a lonely single player
and all I thought was, I am falling

I am beaten black & blue, day & night
Sanity aside,
Through silence as I am asked to handle these fights
and all I thought was, I am falling

As i sleep beside, a broken future
hopes and faith aside,
Through the chaos I try to smile to nurture
and all I thought was, I am falling

I am falling, I am crawling
This world decides my fate: wrongs & rights
I am falling, I am crawling
Am I the hero or the victim who looses as she fights

The cycle continues i wonder as i die
the does and donts are scripted before hand
who will change the trajectory
the story of this only mans land

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

Monday, 24 March 2014

The smell of nothing


The chimney is out, the kitchen is empty
Lanterns turning dim, smoke out there is plenty
And, All I miss is the smell of nothing 

The faces that surround are mere noise all around,
In the suffocating loneliness, chaos is not hard to be found 
And, All I miss is the smell of nothing

The crazy old man creates a shrieking screech 
Words come out mumbling, there is pain in his speech 
And, All I miss is the smell of nothing

The cracked door is a noisy puzzle waiting to be solved
It opens and closes on itself, in air the noises slowly dissolve
And, All I miss is the smell of nothing

Those blank eyes, Those straight faced smiles, are a depth unknown
Waiting for the world to stop its painful moan 
And, All I miss is the smell of nothing

The smell of nothing, Oh Sweet smell of nothing
Where are thou hiding all the pleasure 
Come out, let me elope to a land unknown with you
And for life, let me cherish you like a treasure 

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

Wednesday, 19 March 2014

शब्द - निशब्द

यह कविता मेरी
नहीं कोई ज़रिया मुझे जान्ने का
यह तोह बस एक दूर का मृगजल है
पास आओगे, तोह छुह हो जायेगा!
-------------

अदृश्य दीवारें जो दिखाई देती हैं
कल्पना कि उपज हैं तुम्हारी
मेरे इस टेढ़े मेढ़े दर्पण में न देखो
खुद को अनजान समझने लगोगे

--------------

लहरें आती हैं, लहरें जाती हैं
किनारा वहीँ का वहीँ रेह जाता है
लहरें तोह शायद किनारे का फिर भी सोच लें
किनारे को कभी किसी एक लहर पे रोते देखा है?
---------------

चाहे कहो उसे धुप या सूरज निराला
है वोह बारिश के तीर, पानी कि बहती ज्वाला
कभी रेगित्सान कि मिटटी और कभी बंजर यह ज़मीन
कभी मीठी सी खुश्बू, कभी बेरंग नमकीन

उड़ती चिड़िया, जुडी हुई जड़ें
अनसुना संगीत, शान्ति कहीं है खड़े
आग या हवा, अनजान एक कहानी
कैसे शुरू करोगे सुनानी?
---------

जो लम्हे अभी जीए नहीं
उनको सोच के क्यूँ ए दिल तू है परेशान
जिनमें सांस ले रहा है ए राही
उसमें क्यूँ नहीं छोड़ देता अपने कुछ निशान