The victim is at fault

So the minister says that the girl was dressed up provocatively, that’s why she was molested. And so the girls burn jeans and shirts because western clothes attract molester. And so the blame is always on the victim. You are raped because your dress was short, you are robbed because you carried purse.

I really want to know are women in saree and salwar suits not raped? Or was that 80 year old woman wearing revealing clothes when a 22 year old boy raped her? And what about the grandmother who was raped by her own grandson?

Maybe I should go down to the ancient India and ask how was Sita dressed when she was abducted and how was Draupadi dressed when she was humiliated in public? It is not the dress, it is the mindset. It is the male dominant society. It is the mentality that I am the man, I am powerful, I can do anything. It is not the fault of the victim, it is the attacker. And it is high time that it is imprinted on the minds of all men that you are at fault. You are scared of a free thinking woman. And you should accept her as your equal. And if western clothes are at fault, then why is it that every woman in west is not molested? Stop blaming the clothes, check your own character. That is your permanent attire.

When love’s gone, no need to maintain

I read an interesting article on men quitting their high paying jobs or having their families disown them on papers to avoid paying maintenance to their ex wives and children. It seems an irony that the woman who spent her entire married life making their houses homes is left without anything to support her once the husband’s interest has dwindled. But then, there is another side to the story. Do women who had made their husband’s lives miserable have a right to his hard earned money? And especially when their claim is so high that it will continue to make the husband’s life miserable if he pays it. Well divorce can get ugly and fight for alimony uglier. It is bad enough to wash your linen in public. But still, children do have a right on their father’s earnings. There is no reason why children should suffer if their parents have stopped loving each other. What is required is that the courts should see through the claims of maintenance and as well as the antics played by the husband to avoid them. Maintenance should be to maintain those who are unable themselves and not as a punishment to those who work hard and earn. Genuine cases should not be ignored because some have taken unfair advantages. Marriages are founded on love and understanding, and when that is gone no amount of maintenance can suffice.

Stumped

I faced a really bad interview, maybe as bad as my viva the day my mother fell mortally sick. It is a depressing feeling when you are unable to express what you knew so well, things that you could have easily described but were unable to do. And it happened because of things I never thought can be asked, things too mundane in the present society, things I didn’t feel were worth going over again after a gap of 4 years.

It’s a time when I am stumbling and falling. I hope to rise up and walk again, to run and to fly but right now I am going through a reverse mode. I have a desire to do something but presently I am standing empty handed.

Maybe it is time to wipe my slate clean and make a fresh start. It is time to get up and go. It is time to strive for the best. And time to use every failure as a stepping stone.

Bad mocktail!

Well, I watched cocktail and yes, it is a bad one for that. I have no idea when will Indian filmmaker learn that clothes don’t define character and the so called bad girls are also marriage material. Girls who don’t dress up in salwar suits are also good at heart. Poor, little, rich Veronicas loose the guy that simple looking Meeras bag. And so, while a fashionable girl gets to be the live in partner, it is her best friend who gets introduced to mamma. After all, the lecherous, mamma’s boy will marry the straight, simple girl. And above all, it comes down to two educated, independent girls fighting for a gigolo! And all the love and friendship and sacrifice funda. Oh come on, babes, we don’t need this second hand kahaani……..

No woman’s land

India, the land of goddesses, has become a place where women are treated worse than animals. In Assam, one teenager is publicly molested by mob, another by army men, while their MLA is beaten up by mob. In Maharashtra, a school girl is made to drink her urine for bedwetting and a model is beaten up by mob. In Karnataka, a dentist husband makes his wife drink his urine while torturing her for dowry. In Uttar Pradesh, while the village panchayat orders that women below cannot go outdoors, cannot have mobile phones, policemen rape women. And this is just the tip of the iceberg, just some of the reported cases. Instances of harassment of women are increasing day by day. With rising cases of female feticide and infanticide and abandoned and battered babies, acid attacks, molestations, dowry deaths, honor killings, it is difficult to say if girls of any age are safe here. Girls are molested by strangers and their own kin alike. From before her birth till after her death, a girl is never safe.

Human rights violation in Syria

The Human Rights Watch has reported that there are about 27 tortures centres in Syria run by the country’s intelligence agency. The group has reported that torture of detainees in the form of burning with acid, pulling out nails, sexual assault, beating with cables and batons is carried on by the various state agencies. The acts of torture are a gross violation of the basic human rights and are opposed to human values. Such acts of state sponsored violence should not be tolerated in civilised society and actions should be taken by the international community to curb them.

On divinity

Who is God and who is man? Man may attempt to seek God, to know God, but God Himself is the complete knowledge. Where man wanders in search of truth, God is the Truth. Man seeks infinity in what is obvious, while God encompasses of all that is obvious and all that is hidden. While man is the seeker, God is the prize. While man is the traveler, God, the destination. The journey towards discovering God will go through the journey towards discovering all the truth, all the knowledge of this universe. It will take man into the skies and under the seas and deep inside his own heart. It will require the heart to be tested by fire, of love and of compassion. It will burn the desires and end the trauma and a deeper meaning to life. But wanderers may wander and weepers may weep. A heart devoid of love fails to succeed in any way. No gift is precious than a gift of love. And love alone can purge the soul, clear the mind and guide the heart. To reach God, love can empower, love be the guiding light in the journey so hard.

Learn and live

Life is a continuous learning process. You live only as long as you are able to learn something new. The process of learning, discovering and evolving is one that determines the path of life. When you learn something, you evolve bit by bit. The wiser you get, the longer you live. You become a better human person. You live not as a physical being but something greater, something immortal. However, this process stops the moment you stop learning. You stop growing, you stop developing. You die when your mind stops evolving itself. Don’t die before death. Continue to learn and live.

Eighteen summers

And this one is for my friend Vaidehi. I first met Vaidehi in July of 1995 when we were mere shrimps of 12 years. I remember as a shy silent girl who had accepted the fact that people will make fun of her and of her name. She had joined our school because her uncle had started teaching there. I used to have a large group of friends at that time and we took Vaidehi as one of our own.

In the next few years, Vaidehi was a shy girl, who didn’t express herself, who never lost her number and who, more often than not had people trample her feelings. Most of the times, she took herself for granted. One of her hobbies during school was watching commercial advertisements and imitating them, a hobby she shared with Saumya.

As school ended and college began, Vaidehi started asserting herself more. She even started getting angry. But her anger was never because of her own ego, it was because she had witnessed some injustice or other. But with time, she took some major steps; she accepted those who were alone.

But this is not about Vaidehi. This is for the relation that I share with her. She advised me, that I never followed. She scolded me (sometime) but I always laughed my way out. She stood by my side when I was sad, when I was angry, when I was mad, when I was unreasonable, when I was lonely; and she stood by my side through my work and marriage and after. She tried to understand me, though I have serious doubts if she understood me. But all in all, she has always been a good friend. Maybe she has been a little strict friend; but nevertheless a good one.

So this is for the eighteen summers that we spent together. Laughing and sharing and studying and playing and arguing. With all our differences we gelled together. Maybe this is friendship.

Friends once,

Friends forever.

Come back

By the stars, the moon and the skies

I think of you and I cry

I call out your name aloud and softly

Waiting for you to come back gently

Hoping to see your bright face

Anticipating my heart would race

I have spent many sleepless nights

Tossing and turning and sitting upright

I wonder when I will see you again

And free will I be from this pain

Come back to me, I need you so much

Come back to me, I miss you so much

Tracing the roots

It is a difficult task finding out about one’s roots, tracing one’s family history, especially if generations had moved to different lands, inhabited most distant places. It becomes even more difficult if subsequent generations had changed the family name. Many a times, people try to find out their family history to lay claim to some past glory. Often this is just a general desire to know about one’s origin. And sometimes it has to do with one’s pride. But one question invariably comes to mind, what if the family past is not something that would make us proud? What if our ancestors did acts that will make us try to cover up our history from the world? There have been many instances where a curiosity to find out family history has turned into a costly affair, with huge money spent in cover-up.

Maybe what is required from us is that we accept who we are. Instead of trying to find pride in our ancestors’ past, we should work so that people are proud of us. What we are is not determined by who our forefathers were but what we do. It is not the past, nor the future; it is the present that matters. It is this moment that determines our worth. We are the choices we make. We are the tree nourished by our deeds. Our roots are our self worth.