Showing posts with label Pritesh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pritesh. Show all posts

Thursday, September 8, 2022

The Conspiracy of Silence

     A return to blogging after what seems like a forever long hiatus! It had begun to seem like blogging was old-fashioned but the attention-deficit ridden culture of “YouTube shorts” and “Instagram reels” convinced me that I much prefer this ‘boring’ way of stating my thoughts and ideas! After all, a nuanced topic needs more than 30 seconds of ‘dropping catchphrases’ to do it justice. In the same spirit, here I am, writing about this topic that is so steeped in our culture, it’s no longer even acknowledged, forget about addressed.

    I intend to write about what the blog-post title says – A Conspiracy of Silence……and if you know me any, there is going to be a (heavy and unapologetic) tone of feminism to go with it. If that offends you, you can take yourself anywhere else, this space isn’t for you! But I’d recommend you stay and read. Because if the idea of equal choices offered to both men & women offends you, YOU are the one who badly needs to reflect upon your behavior. Spare these few minutes, to examine yourself and see if there is anything here that can make you a feminist (or make you better at it)! Go on, try it!

    So, conspiracy of silence, huh? I won’t take credit for the phrase, I got it from a podcast I came across fairly recently, and keep returning to. The podcast addresses the broad unsaid rules of maintaining silence to sustain a fragile peace over an ugly conflict. The speakers here address everything from individual traits of "agreeability" to the policy-influencing behaviour of Societies (and countries).

    But in my signature style, I will be writing honestly about the all pervasive culture of silence our women seem to observe, tolerate and eventually, perpetuate in our society. A smaller segment of this nasty culture found a place in a previous post I wrote, but this time, I am all swords out.........to slay this demon, or die trying!

    Let me start with a personal anecdote:

    For the first nearly 40 years of my life, I ate ice-creams, on numerous occasions. It was mostly in the company of others and I laughed at the 'numbness' my mouth felt after the ice-cream had swirled around a couple of times! At a not-so-young age of 37, I realized that I don't actually enjoy ice-creams at all! In fact, after thinking hard, I couldn't recollect a single occasion when I sought to eat ice-cream by myself. Pani-puri, vada pavs and momos occupied that esteemed position and continue to do till date!

    Eating ice-cream had become a people-pleasing activity in my head.......and most of all, somehow the notion of "spending quality time with Ananth" got equated to talking over an ice-cream. While we went around, we made frequent visits to Corner House and I ate the same flavour of ice-cream for nearly 10 years! Once the realization struck that I didn't enjoy ice-creams, I promptly informed Ananth. If I say it baffled him, I'd be understating it!!!! Seriously so! He couldn't understand and believe that "I" did something without being into it 100% and that too, something this 'inconsequential'.

    But the sky fall I was expecting didn't happen (I don't even know why I was expecting it though). He continued to love and enjoy his frozen dessert and I continued to talk with him, without a scoop in my hand! Me not eating ice-cream became a "fact" to live with and our lives went on as if nothing had happened! 

    This particular example made me think and gently examine the "non expression" of dissent in women around me, with the broader purpose of "Keeping the PEACE" and my amateur (at best) research scared the living daylights out of me! The number of things women would simply "do", just because the consequence of not doing them, or not falling in line was too dire made the world slip from beneath my feet!

    While the podcast (that I mention earlier) talks about tyrants on a societal/national/international scale, my post addresses more of the garden variety tyranny, known mostly for labeling women "Too much", "Out of control", "Uncultured" and well.........."That bitch"! These 'small time' dictators are all around us, who are used to having their way, often at the expense of others. 

    Which silences are these?, you ask! Silence over the smallest of things, of no particular consequence to anyone, unless that anyone is a micromanaging, control-freak, megalomaniac! And our surroundings have got many of them! Take a cold hard look and Thou shall find these specimens!

    As a Society, we haven't learnt (mostly) to separate the important from the unimportant. Marriage as a union of two people, who "can't live without each other" has become so glorified, that women literally won't do anything without their partners (yes, it often starts before marriage itself). The girls are advised to "sacrifice" their needs (wants are a far cry!) for the sake of keeping the husband "happy". His "permission" becomes an inevitable part of her life and anything she does without it will invite his wrath! Over the centuries, this has become a way of life..........like this:


    This systematic culture of training our daughters to be submissive and agreeable and our boys entitled and insensitive has made our Society an unhappy place to live in. "She left her job for the sake of children, what a great mother!" has become a badge of honour! Or worse, "She does a full time job AND takes care of her house like a pro" has become a coveted title! The chronically tired women continue to hold the torch of sacrifice and silence aloft..........


 

    This silence of most women often distorts the perception of who they are, and given enough time, they join the ranks of people who no longer know or recognize themselves anymore. The peace in their house (read: the small-time dictators feeling happy) is heavily contingent on these women keeping their mouths shut and hands busy! Many of the older (or even younger) ones will even try to convince you that this silence is their "choice", that IS who they are. But you know what, I don't buy it! Dig deep enough, or catch them in a moment of vulnerability and they'll tell you, "What other choice did I have?"

    "What other choice did I have?" 

    This statement often causes a lump in my throat! I know I can't change a thing in their lives, they've made their peace with this day-to-day bullying (and the golden cage rewards of lavish birthday and anniversary gifts!). But I've made a choice to voice my dissent, as often as I can, on as many avenues as I can, to as many tyrants as I come across. When you voice dissent, you give the victims of this casual patriarchy hope........when you stand up, it gives strength to another woman somewhere........

    That old adage of "When you see something, say something"? This was my post for the same!









Monday, June 30, 2014

It's not about the sun, it's about the sweat

It's about what you build
Not at all about what you get
It's not about the sun, girl
It's all about the sweat
***
It's not about what you follow
But the examples you set
It's not about the sun, lady
It's all about the sweat
***
It's not about the fair skin
So, don't you at all fret
It's not about the sun, sweetie
It's all about the sweat
***
It's not about the silks on you
Or the shoes or hair, I bet
It's not about the sun, honey
It's all about the sweat
***
It's about your grey cells
Not about a pretty face yet
It's not about the sun, dearie
It's all about the sweat
***
Tomorrow won't remember you
For how you looked, my pet
It'll remember you not for the sun
But for all the sweat
***
Don't let them tell you ever
Or judge or issue a threat
For you are not a girl of sun
But a girl of grit, and of sweat
***
Dark or fair, thin or fat,
Well dressed or not, don't fret
Whenever the sun is out
Just go ahead and sweat......
*******

These will be my words for my daughter, whenever I have one! Life is not about shying away from the sun, but for sweating in it and building her life the way she wants it! To Hell with all those who tell her that her beauty is her identity!

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

I want to be a billionaire

I want to be a billionaire
Collecting it all, as I procced
Billions of talents & skills
Each one leading to a good deed

I want to be a billionaire
Seeking billions of eyes
Glued to what my hands create
With every one of it, expectations rise

I want to be a billionaire
Looking for faces that smile
Billions who learn what I teach
Teaching others all the while

I want to be a billionaire
Of not notes and many a coin
But of smiles, joys and sharing
And of everything helping our hearts join......

Monday, September 9, 2013

"I" talks to "Me"

From the mirror, the 'I' said,
Stay there and get beautiful eyes
And 'Me' replied, no thank you
I'd rather have eyes that can 'see' beauty

The 'I' said, your hands look bad

Want some hand cream, make them pretty
And 'Me' replied, no thank you
I'd rather create pretty things with these hands

Exasperated, 'I' said, your skin

Could do with some touch up to make you glow
And 'Me' replied, no thank you
I'd rather let a smile make my face glow

The 'I' tried yet again, take this perfume

Spray it and look like you're fresh off the garden
And 'Me' replied, no thank you
I'd rather walk in the garden to smell like I've been there

At the edge of its patience, the 'I' said

Here is kohl, mascara, eye liner, define your eyes
And 'Me' replied, no thank you
I'll let a naughty twinkle define my eyes

'I' attempted once more, look at your lips

They lack colour, here, take the lipstick
And 'Me' replied, no thank you
I'd rather that a genuine smile adorns my lips

A last ditch try, the 'I' said

If you're pretty and lady like, he will pay you compliments
And 'Me' replied, no thank you
He already sees me for who I am, not how I look

And then, my eyes opened,

Clarity flooded, sunlight streaming in
What a dream, oh what a realization
Prettiness gave in to beauty, let my day begin

With valuing me, for who I am

And what I can do with what I have
Brightening my inner glow, shining
With radiance of my inner beauty............

(Deliberately left unedited)

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Cracks in the sidewalk

Slightly chipped, colours almost gone
That's how the stones in the sidewalk are
Third from the left, colour muddy brown
Has a dirty crack, much like a scar
--
Ten steps down, one stone displaced
Has an ant abode, ants scurrying fast
This is a fairly new one, ants and all
I think, it appeared, the year before last
--
Just round the corner, if I may add
One stone preserved, no wear and tear
Almost as if, never stepped on to
I've seen it always, sitting right there
--
Ask me the way, to the small shop
And I can tell it, crack by crack
For, sidewalks are really all that I see
Day after day, just to keep track
--
Just once in a while, I lifted my head
To see what all went on, high up there
Eyes were all I saw, staring unblinking
Scanning me all over, like a market ware
--
I lowered my head, vowing to keep it there
For I was taught, that's how men are
Back I am to cracks, in the sidewalks
The world up there, way too bizarre........
--

A poem that stemmed from what I was taught in my growing up years - lie low, don't draw attention to yourself, walk with your head bowed.............this will save you from eve-teasing. Almost as if eve-teasing was the norm, and I had to abide by it. As I revisit those "wise words", I wonder if things have changed! Have they?

- Pritesh

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Alt Tabbing Through Life


Morning coffee incomplete without news on the web

One headline to another, interests very soon ebb

..

The lunch is incomplete without a SMS from the cell

No attention whatsoever to food’s taste or smell

..

Afternoon coffee incomplete without a status update

Within minutes replies to it is what we await

..

Dinner remains incomplete without a chat on GTalk

No catching up on the day, no post-dinner walk

..

No time to sit and just ponder, gazing at the sky

We’re busy Alt-Tabbing through life, not living it, just letting it go by……….

A love so profound


Every single dawn, made possible because he comes

Every single dusk, made beautiful because he goes

Every single one of us, walking because he’s there

Every single plant, every leaf, every single rose

..

His rays kiss her, every minute of the day, everyday

Never does he say to her, “You owe me all that”, oh my!

Look what a love like that does to this cosmos,

A love as selfless as that of the Sun, lights up the whole sky

..
Pritesh

PS: Dedicated to the love of my life – Ananth :)

Sunday, March 10, 2013

My self-written destiny


The echo of a warm Hello
Haunts me to this day
The sounds of merry talk
Lost to death and dismay
.
A drop fell from the sky
Many palms outstretched
A ruthless tussle ensued
The drop, the winner fetched
.
With a drop on my palm
And one in my eyes
No more warm hellos
Or teary Good-Byes
.
Oh! What has become
Of the world, you and me
There is just this “I”
All else is enemy
.
The little ray of light
Coming from the east
Made me see myself
The cruel, selfish beast
.
My gentle loving hands
Are no longer alive
Claws, sharp and grim
Are helping me survive
.
Fighting the ones I loved
A battle for you or me
This darkness is my Fate
My self-written Destiny
- Pritesh (with the help of Sujit)

This poem is inspired by Sujit’s post (http://sujitkc.blogspot.com/2010/05/dark-night.html), particularly the last part:

“A long dark night awaits. A very long, a very dark night. Then, we’ll most probably not have the luxury to exchange pleasantries at cafe. There will no lunch and snacks to go together to, because there will be only so much as only either of us will be able to eat. Not you and me. It’ll be you or me! In those dark times, we may have to avoid each other’s eyes. For it’s hard to look into the eyes of a person you are killing. We will soon be fighting each other. Killing each other. Just like beasts! Because there will soon be so little left to survive on, that we have to reduce ourselves to savage ways even to exist.


Meet you in the battleground. Meet you in the jungle. Meet you in the dark night.”

She flies high


The sky, with its endless expanse,

Stretched out before her eyes,

Undaunted, she stared at it,

Passionate, determined and wise

.

A dream she nurtured, all these years

Rising high, conquering the sky

Wings attached to her dainty self

She could fly, fly and fly……..

.

It wasn’t an easy dream to have

There came hurdles, big and small

She faced, fought and won them over

Emerging a winner, standing tall

.

The wagging tongues, pointing fingers

She silenced them with her power

There she goes, blazing a trail

All around her, hurdles cower

.

Whoever told her, she couldn’t

Has been proven so very wrong

Amid disapprovers, she shines bright

Forever determined, forever strong……..

……

Dedicated to Kavita………:-)

Some memories that just don't let go....


Sometimes, one gets this one hour when a machine is busy measuring some data. You can’t go anywhere for the fear that the machine responsible will report this to your boss (and the machine probably doesn’t even notice you’re there) and you can’t do much sitting in front of a screen that shows a graph being plotted at snail’s pace. So, you “switch off” from the machine screen and reminisce……….memories that bring a smile on your face, in spite of the fact that you were too small or too dazed or too tutored to make much of those events when they happened. I have some fond ones……..

……one of my favourite ones is of all the frocks my mother stitched for me (and my sisters). A silk cloth (mostly gifted by some relative or the other) was a prized possession. We pestered our mother for stitching frocks out of that for us. Relatives, being as thoughtful as they were, gifted a big roll and as luck would have it, we sported frocks made out of the same length of material. All three of us dressed: Same to same! I wish I had photos of those times, which brings me to my next memory.

…….family photo!!!!!!!! The once in a year affair I dreaded! And laugh at now! The family photo used to (invariably!) happen towards the end of the Summer vacation. We were dressed in our best dresses and taken to a studio. There used to be a (usually VERY tacky) background picture, of places we either would never see in our life (okay, I did get to see some like that in life eventually!) or care to see. It would usually be a Bungalow with a brook flowing in front of it, a wooden bridge on the brook and a very picturesque Fall setting! Never mind that India doesn’t have Fall colours! The part I dreaded the most during this photo-shoot was the stiffness with which we were expected to stand and not make ANY noise (like the noise would spoil the photo, DUH!). All our photos have us in different stages of moroseness. And the moroseness gradually transformed to rebelliousness and FINALLY, we got our own camera! So this annual photoshoot affair stopped!

……the Yashica camera we possessed! This HAS TO BE one of my fondest memories! We took a calculated number of photos on Birthdays or outings to parks. We finally had REAL settings behind us! We were (obviously!) not allowed to touch the camera and the 36 photos in one roll were precious (unlike the Digital age of today when you can click away to glory!!!). It would greatly upset my father if we ‘spoiled’ any of the photos by laughing, or looking here or there.

……our first refrigerator. I can swear that I polished the ‘Kelvinator’ written on it at least once a day to keep it shining! A fridge of our own was a matter of great pride and I remember boasting about all the “frost” gathering in the freezer to whoever would listen!  I missed no opportunities to come up to the fridge and eat some of the frost!  More importantly, I felt great at lending a hand to my mother for the ‘weekly’ cleaning of the fridge. The cold water in summers was a blessing and we never bought another fridge! The old green thing with it chipped paint and meshed rear side still is in our house

……picking ber and imli with my brother. I have such vivid memories of being on the lookout for the keeper of the gardens next to our school while my brother picked bers and imlis. As soon as I saw the keeper, I was to indicate it to my brother, who had to then climb down as fast as possible and escape with me. I never saw even as much as a sign of the keeper but we were perennially ready to bolt. I can swear to God that bers and imlis bought from the market never taste the same and, of course, cost money!

……our first TV!!! This was an event I will never forget. The TV came to our house on a Wednesday evening at 7:00 and Dad was determined to watch the 8:00 pm chitrahaar on it. Many a scoldings later, it was plugged and switched on. I remember watching grey and black strips moving up the screen for solid one hour and we got to see the end of Chitrahaar finally.

……Ramayan and Mahabharat on Sunday morning!!!!!!! This surely has to be one of the clearest memories I have. We used to get strict instructions for finishing breakfast before 9:00 am (which used to be idli and dosa, a delicacy for us, a weekly affair). Mom didn’t want any ‘disturbances’ when Ramayan and Mahabharat were on TV. She was very particular about taking a bath before watching these serials (like anyone in TV noticed or cared!  ). I know of some families (in our neighbourhood) lighting agarbatti  in front of the TV when Ramayan was aired! I also remember the “war” where the ‘funnily shaped’ arrows “met” mid-air with flares of all sorts (thanks to B. R. Chopra and Ramanand Sagar!). The serials were so effective that Arun Govil is still “Ram” for my mother and Deepika Chikhalia “Seeta”  I’m sure Goga Kapoor was the most hated man in the country back then!

……Birthday cakes! I can never ever forget those hold-you-breath moments when the cake came out of pressure cooker (these are pre-oven days, people!). Sometimes, we used to get a rock solid cake which would kill anyone if thrown at them! Most times, we were lucky. As the birthdays neared, we used to wait for Mummy to go shopping for eggs and maida. And needless to say, we were all too willing to ‘help’ her with beating the eggs (a job we’d normally hate  ).

……the handful of toys. I remember having been given only one doll. It closed its eyes when put flat and her hair was blonde (I didn’t know back then, of course, that I’d one day live in the land of blondes!). I used to love to comb her hair and Mom would stitch clothes for her (on our vehement insistence, of course)! I can’t even begin to describe my anger when I realized that my sister had cut off the beautiful blonde hair of my only doll!

……Campa, Limca, Gold Spot and Thums-Up. Getting a full bottle for yourself was a BIG treat that was to be graphically explained to every single friend in school the next day! We usually used to get 1/3rd of the bottle, in a steel glass, something that we’d sip on for 2 hours!

……imli chooran sold in front of the school. This has got to be the most coveted thing during my 8th to 10th year of life!  The chooran seller would put a spoon-full in a newspaper and hand it to us. To enjoy it thoroughly, the chooran had to be licked. One needed to wet one’s finger with saliva, stick it in the chooran and eat the chooran that stuck to the finger! For 25 paise, the guy would give about 50 g of chooran and that was a thing to be shared with all the friends! How I loved the kaala chooran and mixed chooran!

……circus! Going to a circus needed a taxi-ride in Mumbai, something I so loved back then! We had a CAR to ourselves and the driver took us where we wanted to go! This was a BIG thing and gave me such immeasurable joy!  Circus also meant getting an ice-cream (usually an orange or coconut lolly!) to myself. The elephant, the lion, the trapeze artists…….it was the height of ecstasy for all of us!

……the Annual Day Celebration! The auditions for the dance in Annual Day was a nerve-wrecking experience and I remember how I pestered my mother into stitching a frock for my ‘two-line’ part in a play. I just had to come out of the ‘bheed’ and say “Shame shame, the emperor has nothing on his body. Shame shame”. I have not the faintest idea what transpired in the rest of the play! All that I cared for was that I had a blue and red silk frock with golden buttons!  Such simple things gave us joy back then!

So, what is your most precious memory?

What is Awesome without "me"?


There’s no ‘lovely’ without any ‘love’

No ‘yours’ either without ‘you’ in it

No ‘noteworthy’ till there is ‘worth’

‘Superior’ lost without ‘super’ in it

..

‘Joyous’ is incomplete without ‘us’

‘Miserable’ comes with ‘miser’ too

‘Liveliness’ is nothing till you ‘live’ it

‘Health’ is where you ‘heals’ you

..

No matter where life takes you,

There shall always be

A string in your hand

‘Awesome’ is nothing without ‘me’……

- Pritesh

Butterflies are never ugly.....


Hopping from flower to flower,

Wrapped in a rainbow of your own,

O my dear creature of beauty,

Reveal to me your secret unkown

***

I’ve met your siblings, your babies,

Your neighbours, your better half,

Such outstanding beauty you all possess,

In your aura, I all but gaffe

***

Seating herself gracefully on a leaf,

She folded her hands gently and said,

Ever given it a conscious thought?

If not, roll it around now in your head

***

No butterfly is ever ugly, you know,

But that is what we have become,

After a long journey, not so pretty,

What you see now, is its sum

***

We were not always bright like this,

Ugly we were, all mottled and grey,

Cramped together, fighting to survive,

In one place, a group of larvae

***

Change we did, with time and toil,

Overcoming our our ugly skin,

Spring we do lovely colourful wings,

And a new life we begin

***

Butterflies are never ugly,

For they go through a tough spell,

Having fought it all and making it,

In their beauty, they now revel