I won't blame the government...we rape women

A six year old child gets raped by her teacher in Bangalore. It shouldn't surprise me anymore and it doesn't. I am just heartbroken trying to make sense of humanity. In the meantime, social media gets set on fire. Everyone is calling for justice. Everyone wants the culprits imprisoned. Everyone is blaming the government for letting such crimes go rampant in the country.

I don't. I want to blame the cold, inhuman entity called the government. The entity that doesn't have a human face. It's the government's fault that so many girls are attacked and raped. So simple. I wish I could do that. But I know the government is no more than a bad handler of an animal that has already gone rabid. I can't blame the government for what keeps happening because I genuinely think the government can't do much at this point, except have their representatives spout some nonsense about justice and bringing safety and slink away once the controversy dies (of course it does not help that our political parties are filled with men who believe eating chicken and fish leads to rape).

I however blame myself. I blame my society. I blame the world I live in. I remember during my first semester in college in Chennai, these boys from this particularly disgusting college would board the bus I would travel in (a lot of MOP girls travelled in that bus). Every time a girl would enter, they would sing lewd songs. Every time a girl would move, they would sing lewd songs. They would catcall. They would "eve tease". I complained to the bus conductor, who shrugged and told me to get off the bus if it bothered me so much. Of course being the person that I am, I created a ruckus, fought and called the police too. But the general consensus in that bus was that I was the problem. These were "boys being boys" and I was being difficult.

Since a very young age, I realised how important it was to protect myself. In Calcutta, I was told to hold my mom's hand at all times because during Durga Pooja, men were abducting little girls (of course I was very tiny, so my parents had to hold onto me even tighter). I would see beautiful prostitutes lined outside Kalighat temple and men leering at them. In Chennai, it's considered a "fun game" for men riding bikes to shout at poor girls walking down the street. You squeal  in fear and they would get a kick off it. Sometimes they would hit you as they passed you by. You are filled with absolute humiliation at that moment even though it really isn't your fault at all. Oh and in Chennai, if you ever travelled by bus, then at some point a man would have come from behind, pressed himself against you and pinched your waist really hard. In fact, I was left with a mark that lasted me a month. Painful. And yes. Humiliating.

In Bangalore, I have faced a different sort of problem - the kind female runners face. Of course there is the usual level of catcalling and grazing your thigh when you are sitting in the bus (at this point I have stopped travelling by buses. I earn money and I no longer want to subject myself to disgusting men who get the kick out of touching a strange girl's thighs). But as a runner, I face a whole different problem - men think it's an open invitation to harass anyone who is a woman who dared enough to run in public.

A friend of mine and I ran the Nandi Hills recently. On our way up, every 5th man either blew us a kiss as he went by, or made an inappropriate comment or even tried to take our picture (I went and fought with that man because the last thing I want is my picture to land up in a strange website). We learnt to keep to ourselves, avoid eye contact and keep chugging along. But it was frustrating. I was personally relieved when I reached downhill. It didn't matter that I was strong enough to run up and down a hill, I was a woman, thus I had to be objectified. I wish the incident at Nandi Hills was the only one of its kind but it's not. I have learnt to run in groups just to feel safe again. And if I run alone, then I have a tried and tested route (that I have briefed my parents on) and even then I have faced problems.

All this brings me to the question I posed at the beginning of this rant - do I blame the government? During the now infamous Delhi rape media circus, everyone blamed the Congress. I don't know if they will blame BJP now. But I don't. I blame us. The society. Tamil films nearly glorify that idea of stalking a woman till she finally relents. A film called 7G Rainbow Colony is about how one man molests and stalks and makes a girl uncomfortable until she falls in love with him. How is that normal? Why isn't that girl calling the police? Why do these films glorify the stalker?

And then there are the item numbers. Munni Badnam Hui, darling tere liye. The woman in those movies strictly exists to please the eyes of the men who bites their lips as she sways her hips. The woman is now "commodified".

But I refuse to blame just movies and songs and the media, the blame for what's happening should be shouldered by the entire society. Girls growing up are told to keep themselves safe. They can't wear certain clothes because that "might attract attention". You should be careful, you are told. Don't get too close with boys because boys will be boys, you are told. Be modest. Don't wear makeup. Don't wear short skirts. Don't smile too much in public. Keep yourself guarded. Carry a pepper spray. Make sure you know how to use your keys for protection. Carry a rape whistle. Don't go out alone at night. Don't run at night. Just don't leave the house. Build a fortress and die there. At least you will be safe.

But what are we telling our sons? Are we raising them to believe that men and women are equal? Are we telling them to be careful? To not touch or hoot or catcall a girl when she is out? Do we teach them not to treat women as inhuman pieces of meat that need to be devoured? Do we teach them that women are human beings too?

I don't think even the most sympathetic of men can understand what it's like to be inside a woman's body. The fear that comes from looking like a woman. The fear of moving shadows at night while walking alone down the street. The fear of getting raped not just by strangers but by anyone.

Can the government teach a man that women should not be raped? That women aren't a hunt? What can the government do? No. Unfortunately try as hard as I can, I don't blame the government. I blame us.

I am allowed to hate my home and love it too...

There have been two periods of my life when I couldn't wait to get out of India. Once when I was in 11th standard. For about six months I had decided I wanted to live in New York like those beautiful people on Friends. I would be like Rachel and Monica living in a nice NYC apartment talking about my first world problems. India was no good and I was meant for bigger things. I was meant for America. The first chance I got, I would leave and never come back.

Of course immediately after my 17th birthday, the American economy collapsed and the subprime mortgage bubble broke and I quietly congratulated myself for being in one of the fastest growing economies in the world - India. Who needs America when you have festivals, colour, beauty, a million languages and so much to do right here? I would make my home in India, I decided.

The second time I truly considered moving to America was when I visited my sister in California last year. It was a month of bliss. The weather was beautiful. I drank water out of the tap and was not worried. There were cycle tracks everywhere I turned. Beautiful trekking trails. Mountains and valleys. Hardly any traffic at all. And I could wear shorts and go for runs and no one would bat an eyelid. I think that's what appealed me to the most. I felt safe in whatever clothes I wore. In India I think twice about wearing something before going out, I enjoyed real freedom staying with my sister. I wore anything at all and was not remotely worried. She lives in one of the safest neighborhoods I have ever been in and I felt truly safe for the first time in my life. So, when I came back home I thought about it hard and long. America meant I would be closer to my sister and niece. And it also meant less pollution, better beaches, cleaner trails and I could run without worrying about some random man attacking me. But India is my home.

I have spent the last 10 years of my life using public transport in this country. Think Mumbai, Calcutta, Pune, Delhi, Chennai, Bangalore and even Hyderabad. I like public transport. You don't have to worry about weaving in and out of traffic and you can put on some music, take out a book and you can enjoy some "me time", till the chaos of the day takes over. But it hasn't always been like that for me. I was 17 when I had to first handle my first frisky "uncle". In Chennai they are famous. They come stand right behind you. And slowly they will put their hands on your hips. Some women squirm. Some women move away. Some women fight and some even ignore. I didn't quite know what to do when it first happened to me. I turned around startled. The man smirked almost daring me to scream at him. I came home in angry tears.

Of course I learnt to protect myself. I would loudly tell them to remove their hands. I would physically grab their hands while crushing their fingers and push them back. I would also sometimes (if I had the energy), fight. All this time it should also be noted (so the moral policing aunties and uncles won't claim that I was asking for this with my attire), I wore salwar kameezes as they were the dress code of my college. In a week I turn 26. I have had men flash at me. I have had men whistle at me. I had have men scream obscene words at me. And every time I have tried to fight back, I have often found myself surrounded by apathy. "You are a girl. This is India. It is for your own safety to be quiet and ignore." These are words I am very very used to hearing from people.

So why do I blame India? The truth is women are badly treated across the world. It's not an Indian issue. It's just that in India, I see it happening more in open. It's more accepted. I read everyday about young girls, women, aunties getting attacked, raped and worse. And every second you can trust me some girl is being harassed. But we tell ourselves that it's not the nation...it's the singular man in question. Does this mean India as a nation is not to blame at all? I don't buy into that theory. While the whole world is often described as a "man's world", in India, it is hard to be a woman at all.

After all this is nation where Sati was once glorified. Where widow re-marriage is still an anomaly. This is the nation where the boy-girl ratio ( 917 girls to 1000 boys) is so skewered because parents simply do not want a girl child. Where young girls are held back at home and not allowed to attend schools. Where dowry still exists. Where there aren't even enough bathrooms for girls in government schools. Even girls who are highly educated are expected to get married at 25, have kids by 27 and cook perfect meals while also having the perfect jobs. The Indian society has lived for centuries and decades under the impression that having a girl child is a burden. When a girl is raped, women snigger and say that she ought to have dressed appropriately. This is a nation where marital rape is not recognised by law. So if a woman was to be raped by her husband, he can get away with rape and she will never see justice meted out. She will never get justice. So, we can't blindly put the blame on the men who think it is their right to mistreat women, centuries of reinforcement in the nation has led them to believe that they can in fact get away with murder.

But why am I still here? I know a lot of you who love love love this nation, don't like to see it criticised. Would you even believe me when I say that I love this nation too? After all I have described it as being the perfect hell for women. The truth is I love my country. I want to see it prosper. I want it to be corruption free and safe for men and women alike. I want children to get the best possible education regardless of their economic strata and I want the caste system gone for good. But in order for this happen, I have to acknowledge that there is a problem. I can't get angry at the foreign tourists who come here and then talk about how their safety was violated. Their safety is often violated and I cringe every time I read those stories. I feel embarrassed for my nation. And I want it to get better.

After all this is my country. My home. I love the colours. I love the festivals. I love its broken roads. I love the overcrowded trains. I love its smells. I love its mountains. I love its people too. I love bhajjis you get outside Besant Nagar beach. I love how sometimes when you least expect it, a man will let you take his seat on the bus just because he noticed that you were tired. I love its bad movies. I hate its item songs. I love running in Cubbon Park early in the morning. I love travelling and discovering parts of this country that are brimming with history and tradition. I want to be part of its redemption. I want to pay the taxes here and be part of the solution. I want to be there when the roads get fixed. I want to be there when a politician surprises us by doing his/her job for a change. I want to be there when every child in the country has access to education. And I want to be there when women are not blamed for everything in the world. Where mothers-in-law don't kill their daughters-in-law for not paying enough dowry. Where infanticide does not occur. And that can happen only when good conscientious Indians stay back and try to create a new nation where women don't feel like they enter a battlefield every time they leave their homes. I will criticise this country. Because I love it. And I know that by sweeping the problems under the rug will not solve them. The dirt just accumulates. I love India and hate it sometimes. But I am not going anywhere. This my country and my home and it's not safe for me yet but one day it will be. I won't stop fighting. Because India is my home. 

Straight but mostly human

On 11-12-13, the Supreme Court of India declared that gay sex was illegal. It pissed me off. I got angry. Angrier than I have been in a long time. I thought human rights were being violated. I thought of kids in the country who will be even more scared of coming out, so I took to social media to rage away. It's not fair, I said. Everyone gets to fall in love. I didn't get why anyone would care who someone chooses to fall in love with. But then something odd happened. This young man on a particular social media platform tells me - Why do you care? It's not like you're gay. I have seen you talk about guys all the time.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I like boys. I always have. When I was a kid, I fell in love with Shahrukh and then fell in love with Prince William and then fell in love with Prince Harry, and so on and so forth. I like flirting with boys. I like boys. I never chose it. I was just born this way. Does not make me particularly special or different. I was just born a girl who liked guys. So, why should I care if a girl gets to kiss another girl? Or if a guy gets to marry another guy? Because I am also human.

This question which was hit at me yesterday made me feel sick to my stomach. Is this why not too many people are getting angry about this issue? The usual liberal crowd on my Facebook list got mad and stayed mad but for the rest, it was rather business as usual. A few quasi liberals posted stuff on Facebook and then mumbled some lukewarm nonsense about how society should put pressure on the government and then they walked off.

So, here I am. A straight girl who thinks it's a travesty, that in my country two boys can't kiss without being hauled off to jail. Two people can't fall in love without someone calling it an abomination. How can love ever be an abomination? Love is love and family is family....whatever shape it might be. I think the Supreme Court has let down the country. I think people who crack derogatory gay jokes are fostering an inhuman environment. And I think everyone and not just the LGBT community needs to wake up and stand up for a community that is filled with human beings who are being denied the right to be themselves. I didn't choose to like boys, I just did. And that cute boy across the street also did not choose to like other boys. He was born that way. Just like me. That girl who finds companionship in another girl was also born that way, just like me. I don't get to judge them for being true to themselves.  They aren't heroes for being gay, but they are heroes for embracing who they are.

I think we need to put real criminals in jail. Rapist? Murderers? Thieves? They belong in jail. Two people in love and who want to spend their lives together? I think they belong in loving homes with understanding people surrounding them. Yes, I am straight. I can marry whomever I like because of that. I am not going to hauled into a jail anytime soon (I might for causing disruptions during football matches but that's a whole other story). But I am standing proud next to the LGBT community as a fellow human being. Gay activists don't have to be gay. They have be human. So, I promise that you (the lost soul who is reading my blog right now) can count on me to stand up for you. I shall fight on your behalf and until that day arrives when you can freely marry the one you love, I shall always be there..ready to fight. I am straight but mostly human. And this is my promise to the world.

P.S You are not alone.

Eppur si muove

If someone was to ask me what phrase in the whole world nay universe, I love the most, I would turn around and quietly mumble 'Eppur si muove'. Legend has it when Galileo was asked to recant his proposition that it was actually Earth that revolved around the Sun, this great scientist boldly went - "eppur si muove" which loosely translates to - "And yet it moves."

Of course many historians have since debunked this theory entirely saying there is no actual evidence that Galileo, who was facing death at that point would risk his own life for his beliefs but the phrase has long struck an incredibly romantic notion in my head - that to have convictions is more important than going with flow.

Which of course is a huge problem for someone like me because I really like to be liked. More than anything in the world, I want to go unnoticed and be non-controversial...which is hard because I have always stuck out like a sore thumb ever since I was in school. I was not like most of my classmates. I didn't get their jokes, I didn't watch their movies and I was either fighting, lying or reading books under the table. I was also extremely outspoken which never helped my case with either teachers or the students. In short - I was really unpopular. While I had my friends (thankfully every school has more than one misfit), I still felt out of sorts and never able to be what I saw around me. Never really part of the gang. And if you want to be liked, you need to be part of the gang.

The reason I have been thinking about my school days and my own set of values is because recently I got into a rather nasty online fight with some former classmates. And it would have been entirely avoided had it not been for one tiny flaw in my own being - my conscience would not let it. I don't want to make this blog into an anti-Modi rant but suffice to say that I would not vote someone like him into any kind of office with power in my country because it will go against my own set of morals. He was there when the Gujarat riots took place. He was responsible for his people, their safety and as child, woman and man were slaughtered in what could only be comparable to a horror movie, I never thought I would see the day the man could possibly be voted into the highest office in my country. I find it shameful. But while I would never tell someone not to vote for someone specific, I also will not back out from voicing my own opinion.

And I did just that on my Facebook wall the day BJP announced that Modi would become their PM candidate. My heart sank and yet I only chose to make light of the situation and let it go. I didn't want to start a fight with anyone. If someone fought with me, it meant they didn't like me anymore and that would be horrible, at least in my own head. However to my greatest misfortune, the light tone of my status message quickly morphed into a nasty fight. The person who sat in the same classroom as me for years while growing up told me that once Modi became the PM, I would be tried for treason. I thought it was a joke. Surely someone who is educated would know that criticism was a central part of democracy and let him know just that. However it became more and more clear that no matter what I said, this person would not back down from his own views and his friends quickly joined in the pursuit. At this point to my own dismay (I blame lack of sleep and loads of irritation for what happened next), I stooped down to his level and became nasty myself for even though I begged him to leave the discussion, he would not.

Here's the thing that pissed me off the most about the discussion - it was never about the facts. He asked me if I was voting for the Italian and that made me very angry. Anyone who has chosen to be a citizen of India, gets to be called a citizen of India no matter where she was born and should enjoy the same rights as the rest of us. If we are not accepting of that, aren't we all racists ourselves? And then it became about how I am part of paid media. Another supposition without any facts. I write for a technology portal and I am too unimportant a person to be paid off to being a mouth piece for any party in the country. And by accusing me of selling my integrity for money, you reduce me to lowest strata of human existence and for me, my integrity is everything. If not anything, I am honest. I am not a cheap whore (in fact I believe prostitutes have more integrity than men and women who sell their values for instant gratification of money). His friends (and my former classmates I might add), joined it. It was a gang vs one and all I wanted to do was hide under the rock and cry for a while.

Which brings me back to Galileo. Whether he said it or not, he seems to have screwed me over. When someone asks me an opinion, I can't help myself, I have to seek out an answer within myself and reply. I can't just shrug and walk away. It's horrible but as much as I want to forget about Narendra Modi and be accepted by my peers, I know I can't. I have to say that he must at least acknowledge the riots. He must acknowledge what happened that time is a terrible affront to humanity. He must acknowledge he failed his people at that time. The thing is while there are many "leaders" in the country who were present for many riots and terrible acts that have taken place in this nation, none of them is standing up to become the nation's next prime minister. None of them calls themselves incorruptible.

The people who suffered and died? They are also my country men are they not? They are also human beings who deserve justice do they not? Who will stand up for them and their forgotten rights to human decency if not those who listen to their hearts? What face do I show the future generation when I tell them that I voted a man in simply because I wanted to become rich? What do I tell them when they ask me if human life is not as important as growth of industry?

Again with the Galileo. The world wants neat answers. They want solutions wrapped in a bow. Life for all its glory is unfortunately terribly messy. It's gross and ugly but beautiful at the same time. I struggle to find answers every day. I wrestle with the idea of what's right and wrong. And I know that at 25, I am more likely to be wrong than right. But I also know that if I live to be 50, I want to look back with some amount of pride. And that does not come with money. It comes with following Galileo into the gallows. So, while I want nothing more than to talk about Miley Cyrus twerking or Taylor Swift's latest song, I however will not stay quiet when someone talks about this man with praise.

I will acknowledge to them that while the industry in the state has grown, the human index has remained poor. Child malnutrition flourishes. Unemployment remains a huge problem within the state and the poor have remained poor. After which I would quietly point them to data and facts I have found during my research including Poverty amid prosperity, Gujarat’s Social Progress Yet To Match Economic Success, Mirage of development and Vibrant Gujarat: More Myth than Fact to make my case. I will be thrashed. I will be called names. I will be made fun of. There will be people who will hate me at the end of it. All of this makes me terribly sad to even think about. I want to be liked. Unfortunately I have Galileo sitting on my shoulder asking me to open my mouth and laud people like Amartya Sen and Amitavh Gosh (After Amartya Sen, author Amitav Ghosh says his vote won't go to Modi) and resign myself to the fact that my opinion unfortunately is not the popular opinion.

I remember reading Henry David Thoreau several years ago and being entranced by his words on civil disobedience. He said, "Can there not be a gov­ern­ment in which ma­jor­it­ies do not vir­tu­ally de­cide right and wrong, but con­science? — in which ma­jor­it­ies de­cide only those ques­tions to which the rule of ex­pe­di­ency is ap­pli­ca­ble? Must the cit­i­zen ever for a mo­ment, or in the least de­gree, re­sign his con­science to the leg­is­la­tor? Why has ev­ery man a con­science, then?".

I may not be right but I know I must follow my conscience. I also know the only way I can do that is by educating myself and arming myself with numbers which I do every day. Unfortunately none of that will help. Experience so far has taught me that people will only lash out at you. There will no happy ending at the end of this. No one will sit across fire and sing Kumbaya. Whatever happens in the next few years will divide the nation and its people and it breaks my heart. It will also lead to a lot more people hating me. But somewhere I hope the spirit of Galileo smiles and says - Eppur Si Muove...and yet it moves...