Marriage and to be or not to be…in it!

The essence of a good marriage is respect for each other’s personality combined with that deep intimacy, physical, mental and spiritual, which makes a serious love between man and woman the most fructifying of all human experiences. Such love, like everything that is great and precious, demands its own morality, and frequently entails a sacrifice of the less to the greater, but such sacrifice must be voluntary, for where it is not, it will destroy the very basis of the love for the sake of which it is made.

-          Bertrand Russell, Marriage & Morals (1929)

Interestingly, the celebrated writer in question as per Wikipedia fell in love with a girl called Alys, married her against his grandmother’s wishes but the marriage fell apart when he realised one fine day while cycling that he no longer loved her. He has also been the perpetrator of a seemingly passionate string of affairs with several women of high standing and fame, during his lifetime.

Not to mar his credibility or understanding of the human tendencies that kill a marriage or the singular deep-seated factors that ensure a happy one, I second him on his insightful discourse on the secret of sustaining wedlock. Having been at the receiving end of several queries with regards to how to be happy and married from friends, colleagues and relations, I have often been in a dilemma as to how to approach this question. In a day and age where marriage is rapidly assuming different meanings for a modern generation which is increasingly questioning conventional bonds and institutes, I am in a fix as to whether to propagate the holy sanctity of it or adopt a cynical stand like a victim who has been inflicted with much pain having undergone the experience of being betrothed myself. 

Let me begin by saying there is no one formula to a happy marriage. Different individuals have different demands and expectations from it. However, even if we were to assume that everyone finally aspires to be loved and love his or her partner in equal proportions, the above observation made by Russell would hold true for both parties. However, thanks to the deeply entrenched mesh of family values, orthodox mindsets, gender bias, narrow mindedness, religious and cultural stigmas and traditional patriarchal dominance, marriages are unnervingly tilted to offer unlimited benefits to the man in our society. This has meant a snatching away of everything a woman may hold dear in her maternal household- right from her name, her freedom, her right to expressing an opinion, her independence, financial status and in extreme cases what she can eat, when she should fast, what she should be doing during her menstrual cycle, how many kids she should have- a woman after marriage is to not have any right to her own mind, body and soul. 

That said, marriages are clearly working out differently in urban societies today. Increasingly, you may find the husband sharing household responsibilities, even nurturing kids while the wife goes to work, encouraging financial independence for his partner, moving in to her maternal home without taking a hit to his ego, planning a family based on the mother-to-be’s wishes and so on. Essentially letting the wife be without getting threatened or insecure about the choices she will end up making. Like #Deepika Padukone in the #VogueEmpower video states: It is her choice indeed. Unfortunately, a majority of women even in this century do not get to exercise exactly that- their choice and you would be appalled to see the same country that so eagerly embraces a western outlook when it comes to their sons, is driven to subjugate daughters so that they are used to being treated as secondary in their marital homes.

As to answering the reverberating question of whether it is indeed possible to be happily married at all, I will let Mr. Russell answer that for you. Read on:

It is possible for a civilised man and woman to be happy in marriage, although if this is to be the case a number of conditions must be fulfilled. There must be a feeling of complete equality on both sides, there must be no interference with mutual freedom, there must be the most complete physical and mental intimacy; and there must be a certain similarity in regard to standard of values. (It is fatal for example, if one values only money while the other values only good work.) Given all these conditions, I believe marriage to be the best and most important relation that can exist between two human beings. If it has not been realised hitherto, that is chiefly because husbands and wives have regarded themselves as each other’s policemen. If marriage is to achieve its possibilities, husbands and wives must learn to understand that whatever the law must say, in their private lives they must be free.

Amen to that.

All India Bigotry (The Real #AIB)

We are a nation of bigots, whether you want to accept it or not. Our levels of self-censorship are so convoluted and farcical, that we ourselves won’t be able to explain the logic of our mindsets and how we view the paradigms of what is socially acceptable and what is not. The same man who sees himself as a victim of economic disparity in the country and human exploitation at the workplace has no qualms about abusing and physically taxing his domestic help or those under him. The same person who is a devout God-fearing disciple of some or the other form of God dupes himself by thinking he can wash away his sins by offering donations at some temple or charitable concern. The same person who practices pre-marital sex wants a virgin wife after marriage. We are the same nation that censors porn but welcomes the pin-up girl Sunny Leone to strut her stuff in item songs and live shows. And while we go all out to make a mockery of the very values we preach so hard, we can’t stand anyone with a sense of humour.

We are the same nation whose Broadcasting Board translates crap or bullshit as nonsense as it is not appropriate content for universal television viewing. Of course, we can say MC, BC and CH to the whole world when something goes wrong in our lives without turning around to see who is listening. Mr. Aamir Self-Righteous Khan does not like profanity as a form of comedy as he thinks he is beyond that age when he can laugh at such things. Much has been said about his production Delhi Belly using words like D K Bose and Jaa Chudail which got very popular in the name of entertainment. Of course the wonderful part of India is it is a free country and Mr. Khan is entitled to his opinion. It is indeed odd that in such a stringent scenario, AIB decided to host a live show where 4000 spectators were in audience, and much foul language, sexual innuendos and pointed jokes about people’s skin colour, bedroom antics and physical features were cracked.  While the culprits of the act seemed to have a ball and have won much support among youngsters for their act of bravado in a sexually and morally repressed nation; detractors have left no stone unturned to condemn them.

As a country that is demographically dominated by the youth, we need to be careful of what we are putting up there for public viewing, no doubt about that. And the AIB Roast is a great idea and attempt to mock-criticise people on a panel in a mutually rib-tickling manner. The question is: Would it be less funny if done without verbal abuse or casting aspersions at someone’s dark skin or dissecting a star’s private life, leaving it bare and out there in the open to be derided? Doesn’t this license such behaviour among friends, with colleagues and bosses, from neighbours or family? Would we accept and validate such humour in our daily lives? So let’s not applaud AIB yet. It has got the mood and momentum going, but there is a thin line between dirty and witty. Let’s not cross it as with the power to influence young minds, comes immense responsibility. To be honest, I laughed hard at most of the jokes cracked that evening but I’d anyday prefer Barely Speaking With Arnub by The Viral Fever. The verbose megalomaniac of a host on that show attacks without hitting below the belt. The Vigil Idiot's way of downsizing Hindi potboilers gets me rolling on the floor laughing. Then again, I hope it stays that way.

Let’s try and enjoy laughing at the lighter side of life. Open our minds to calling a spade a spade but not at someone’s expense. And also understand that pop culture is a direct reflection of the times we live in.  Ask Yo Yo Honey Singh. The poor chap only sings about partying, alcohol and scantily clad aspirational women who dope shope and are out to have a ball (no pun intended) and he gets brickbats for his ‘ashleel’ lyrics. I know a whole generation which lives exactly by his definition of having a good time. But it is much easier to chastise Honey Singh for it, right?

The Pihu Diary- The woods are dark & deep and I have promises to keep…

Nothing can punctuate the joy of having a baby girl as part of your family. In a country like ours, that statement itself is debatable across class, community and region. However, having been brought up in a liberated setting where my parents never stopped me from chasing my dreams, gave me wings to fly and the best of everything in the right doses so I knew how to cherish them, I never felt inferior to my male counterparts. As daughters, we were never conditioned to believe that we must be submissive, sacrificing and soft-hearted. We were asked to pursue a career, choose a husband of our liking and have the guts to make a life of our own.  The world outside was a different ballgame altogether. Come puberty and we were suddenly assaulted with the harsh truth that every woman has to face. Groping hands, frisky fingers, lecherous eyes, stalking strangers, dirty talking oldies…being out on your own meant facing all this and more.

In most instances, I would tell my Mom about the painful incident, each time she would get infuriated, angsty and then look helpless. I soon realized that if I had to survive the mad jungle of desperate creeps, I would have to set a few norms for myself. So yes, there have been times when I have hailed a cab on a deserted lane at night and felt perfectly comfortable doing it and at other times stood at a shady bus-stop and felt mentally raped by the men standing with me in broad daylight. But I also remember incidents where I have walked the streets of Bandra at 1 am in the night with a female friend or sat in a bus at 11 pm at night with a few stray men for company and yet never felt like cringing. Being in Mumbai, a city considered as one of the safest for women, I knew I had it easier than most women in other cities of India and yet, I have never taken that freedom for granted. A woman must watch her back no matter where she is, this I knew instinctually and is a lesson learnt for life. So when I knew I was late in reaching home, I used to make sure I drop down at a busy station nearest to my place and then rick it home. Or stay back at a friend’s when I was partying or drinking late with friends. I knew my parents trusted me to be responsible and I was too grateful for their faith in me to ever let them down.

Now when I am a mother myself, I strangely don’t feel so self-assured about giving the same liberty to my daughter. I wish I could be as cool and nonchalant as my Mom about Pihu going out in the world and paving her destiny. But here I am, worried sick about who she hangs out with, which crèche is safe enough, any malicious entity touching or harming her, any stranger on the road luring her with a chocolate in to a discreetly positioned car parked in an alleyway, that old sleazy looking professor giving her the lascivious looks, that gym instructor who gets too close for comfort while she works out, the doctor who wants to give her a private examination. She must be protected at all times! From lewd comments, lusty eyes, fidgety hands, irrepressible urges…at home, in office, at a bar, on a road, in a car, on a holiday…how do I ensure that she will never come to harm? How will I ever face her if I fail? How can I justify bringing her in to a world which treats her like a potential target for sexual violence? A country where she will get no respect for her achievements; rather be ogled at for being a woman.

We are a country of big time bigotry. How else does a rapist go home to his wife and play the adorable husband? How does such a man touch his mom’s feet? What is he thinking when he sends off his sister to her husband’s place? How is the son of a rapist going to learn to give a woman her rightful place in his life? We don’t know what we are doing to our women and how it will affect our future generations. For a ‪#‎swachhBharat to exist we will have to start with the cleansing of the minds of the men in this country. Starting with the men at home is the first step. Making sure the cleanliness drive reaches the remotest parts of India is an ambition we must fulfill if we are to call our nation ‘our motherland’ and be able to do so with respect to its women.

I am confident that there will come a day when my little butterfly will be able to take flight with her wings intact, her eyes set on a goal she has her hopes set on and I can let go, without getting intimidated or anxious about which net could ensnare and wound her.

After all, she has the right to fly. Now all I need is room to breathe easy when she does.

A Love Letter to Myself

This year at the Jaipur Litfest I was lucky enough to attend a workshop by my beloved professor of journalism at Sophia Polytechnic Mumbai, Jerry Pinto. A noted writer and veteran journalist not in that order, what I admire Jerry for is his ready wit and sense of humour. His ability to make the mundane sound dramatic, his sarcasm, his frankness and a characteristic charm in the form of opinion that he is ready to expel at the drop of a hat makes this man an unforgettable individual for a lot of us. And by us I mean generations of students who have attended his lectures and experienced his style of teaching. The latter is accompanied by a lot of rambling, yelling, joking and occasionally lifting of chairs in the air at no particular person in question and for no particular reason mind you.

Coming back to the point. His workshop was about creative writing and delved in to many aspects of what we know as fiction. As someone who has always nursed the dream of becoming a writer some day, I was naturally keen on absorbing everything he said and at the end poured myself in to this exercise he made us do. The topic of writing was addressing a love letter to myself. This is what I was able to come up with in ten minutes by the clock.

To the living being who makes life worth loving...

Beloved light that shines on no matter what the odds, How harsh the winds, How cold the world around you, the warmth in your heart can melt a thousand hearts, make sparks fly out of dying embers and instill joy within the dullest and most sordid soul.

And yet you are no saint are you? Only your hidden desires know about what you really want to be, which direction you wish to take flight, what world you really belong to.

You derive strength from those who have created you, blessed you, strengthened and supported you, gave you wings, egged you on and endured and embraced you with open arms no matter if the tide swept high or low.

The burning flame of hope keeps you moving on, the positive flow of optimism replenishes your spent energy: keep loving, keep living, keep flying.

Because my dear self, you are the queen of your castle. You make your existence living proof of the fact that life truly is a gift.

A Lover's Lament

I can be your lover but I cannot be your friend
Because I wish to hold your hand right till the end.
I want to stand through every storm, every hurdle around the bend.
For I am the warrior on whom you can always depend.

The first time I saw you I knew we would have a story,
Between us we could weave a fairytale,  eternal with all it's glory.
In a truly fated match, our lives were meant to seamlessly blend,
That's why I can only be your lover, and I cannot be your friend.

The world compels me to stay apart, repress the feelings of my heart.
Why must I sacrifice myself at the altar of convention, to which I claim no part.
I fail to fathom these orthodox sermons, they are not mine to apprehend.
Because I believe I can only be your lover, but I cannot be your friend.

You may push me to the brink, refuse to acknowledge my presence.
But I forever pledge to be yours, happily ensconced in your essence.
I am compelled to stay true to you, whether you accept or offend.
Your every doubt I can tend, every mistake amend for dear heartbreaker I can only be your lover, but I cannot be your friend.

The Pihu Diary- Quote Unquote

So as a parent what is the most precious possession you can leave to your children? I am no seer or prophet neither do I have a fortune to sign in Pihu's name. But there is something I can leave her with and that is my learning through life in the form of these little nuggets of thoughts that she can follow through life. I hope it strengthens her every step of the way as she navigates her way through her amazing journey ahead. Read on.

There will be friends who love to hang out with you and there will be those who nurse you through a hangover. Wisdom is in knowing the difference.

Never ignore the Voice of Reason. It has a strange way of creeping up on you later.

Staying calm under pressure has been my biggest strength. Stress never helped kings win battles. Strategy, courage and will power did.

Don't measure your wealth by the money you make but the good will you earn. The richest man can have a pitiable death if no one cares when he died.

Work hard but at something you are good at. That way even if you get lukewarm success, the struggle would be worth it.

Trusting people blindly is like walking on thin ice. Sooner or later you will lose your balance.

Chase more than one dream. If you have inherited my determination which I am sure you will, you will end up fulfilling many of them.

Be a woman of your word. It will bring you both respect and credibility.

Love can happen more than once. Loving the wrong guy and suffering a heart break is its side effect. Don't be afraid to love. It will definitely make you wiser if not happier in the end.

Finally, believe in good karma because your just acts will get rewarded in unexpected ways no matter where you are.

The Pihu Diary - A new life, a new beginning

One Friday night, the weekend before my last working week in office, I started feeling cramps in my lower abdomen. After three hours of enduring the same thinking it's a stomach upset, I woke my husband. We waited thinking it might be false labour. Soon I could neither stand nor sit without wincing and moaning and before long my water broke! That was our cue and we rushed ourselves to the hospital as recommended by my doctor. Once there by when I was already breathless with the pain, I was told the baby was ready to come out!!! I didn't know what to do but ask for my doctor who rushed in to confirm the same. So there I was, sprawled on a bed in a labour room delivering my baby almost a month before she was to come out.

Well into her ninth month but a little too soon than expected, Pihu was born to us on a bright Saturday morning at 7:39 am, slightly stressed and tired but absolutely normal and strong as ever. That morning confirmed my belief that God has his own plans while we keep making ours. Hell, I would have been at a film festival on that day if not delivering my baby! Now that I think back on it, the labour pain, the trauma of unexpected delivery, the actual process of getting her out and the healing thereafter is all part of a job well done, a mission successfully accomplished and a blessing that has been bestowed on us.

As cliched as it may sound, when I  look at Pihu's angelic and innocent face, it all seems well worth it. As anxious as I get about how good a mother I will prove to be, I am also deeply excited about what lies in store ahead, and how she grows up to be. When I let her curl her tiny and pretty little hand around my finger, I feel an immense urge to protect her, and fend for every comfort I can offer no matter the cost. As she grows a bit everyday, I wonder if I will ever be able to wean myself off her, for a career ahead, for independent holidays or occasions which are off limits for her. 

In the end, motherhood is an extremely humbling as well as heroic experience that you must go through if you are not afraid to test your endurance, patience and level of sacrifice. It is also a definite path to self discovery with immense scope for learning, laughing, love and long-standing commitment. One you must take only if you are sure of it and ready to be led to places you never knew existed. I now respect mothers a whole lot more. Not because I am one today but because I now realise the price they pay for it.

Pihu will go down in my list of accomplishments in this lifetime. I take it as a new responsibility to bring her up to see, enjoy and appreciate the bright side of life and gear up for the rough and tough part of it. I love kids; have always wanted one of my own. I have fastened my seat belt for the ride ahead. And so it begins...