DESERTED

deserted

the desert is dead
desire not to arouse it.
the sand will blow
and blur my sight.
but u let the air in
and ruffle the silence,
stir my peace.
the sand dunes that
had settled over
the years are now lost,
lost in this hurricane.
this desert will not
cease to exist,
dare not forget,
by these frivolous winds
but restless, it pleads
with all its might
to let the breeze in
that softens these
fine sand grains.
and smoothens
the desert that is dead.

FROM THE KITCHEN TO THE BOARDROOM- THE INDIAN WOMAN TODAY.

Indira nooyi, naina lal kidwai, kiran bedi and Sonia Gandhi-few number of prominent women u can easily count on ur fingertips. Is this meager number enough to represent the whole bulk of the fair sex of our nation?
We, the people, live in the times of egalitarian values. Our women are no longer caged. They are now free to flee and conquer the world. They are striving hard to make their presence felt and have left no sphere untouched. They are not just home makers but have now become potential nation builders.
“Our Women”- who do u think are these beings we so rightfully lay our claims to? “The woman of today”-what does this notion represent? Friends, here I would go by the saying-“all those glitters is not gold”. I hope the audience present here is taken aback for I am here not just to voice my opinion or elaborate on my views but to raise questions and doubts about this relatively abstract status of women in India. The credit to this abstraction may rightfully be given to the enormous class divide in our society. Here it becomes inevitable what the Marxist philosophy states. Marxism traces its roots of women subordination to the growth of class division in society. The first division of labour as Engels described “between man and woman was for child breeding”. Socialism, nevertheless, puts all blame of patriarchy on the capitalist structure of state. Capitalism by employing women in large scale industries broke the cycle of isolation and dependence they suffered from during feudal times. But at the same time the conditions under which women work supposedly as free worker remain unequal. The glaring visibility of the urban elite woman who is responsible to have shrunk this vast concept of Indian woman can not be dispelled in a discourse such as this. Meanwhile the rural woman was lost somewhere and forgotten all along. However, we also can not disregard the fact the Indian woman wherever bestowed an opportunity fought to break free of her fetters. Her journey from kitchen to the board room has not been an easy one. Her emancipation which still is in the process of wide spread acceptance came at the cost of a struggle. She had to prove her mettle at every step even in this land of Goddess worshipers. Mahatma Gandhi once said true India resides in its villages, and the women of our villages have been unarguably neglected. She still meets her fate in the dungeons her home. Sadly enough the fruits of women emancipation failed to trickle down to the grass root level of our society which is basically an amalgamation of various caste classes and divisions. Rather I must add that this infiltration of development has been very slow.

We are a developing nation and such a nation has its share of its negative and positive features. Purposeful plans and steps have been undertaken to bring women out of the largely looming metaphorical pardha. Literacy rates have steered uphill drastically since independence. According to the world economic forum 2007, in a study aimed to establish a yardstick to measure the improvement in women’s position in society it found most progress was made in health care and education, with economic and political improvement sectors showing a slow but steady rates of equality. While India is experiencing unprecedented levels of economic growth its women continue to be marginalized with respect to economic participation in contrast with country’s performance in political empowerment for women, an area in which it has traditionally well. To strengthen her economic front that is promoting entrepreneurship among them, an exemplary step in this regard has been taken. A rural B-school for women, Mann Deshi Udyogini, formed by a rural women’s cooperative bank in association with an international bank, is a business school aims to empower women with the knowledge of how to run small scale enterprises. Vanita Jalinder Pise is one such woman and the winner of Prime Ministers National 2006 Woman Exemplar Award.
Having said all, entrepreneurship among women has been a recent concern. Women have become aware of their rights, their existence and their work situation. However, women of the Great Indian Middle Class aren’t too eager to alter their role in fear of social backlash. The progress is more evident in upper class families in urban cities. Here at this point, I am reminded of a survey done a year or two ago among the women from the age group of 18-25 which concluded that docile Delhi girls tend to be most vulnerable in terms of making choices regarding their careers. They, reportedly, left these issues to their fathers or husbands. It also found that compared to men women were less concerned with making money and often chose business proprietorship as a result of career dissatisfaction. However, the factors that initiate a woman to take the plunge are usually circumstantial for instance failure of husband’s business, sudden death of the father in a woman only household etc.
But with the spread of education and awareness, women have shifted from the kitchen, handicrafts and traditional cottage industries to non traditional higher levels of activities. They had to cross major thresholds and enter an unknown land where survival of the fittest was the sole mantra. They not only survived but rocked the scene. They gave birth to the ultra modern concept of ‘super mom’, multi-tasking her way through all odds, juggling between her career and her family. At this juncture I am obliged to throw light at the plight she faces physically, socially and psychologically. She has more problems like insomnia, depression and impulsiveness. She is under constant pressure to suppress her femininity and be on her toes all round the clock. Strong familial ties are weakening day by day. Motherhood is the last thing on her mind. Please understand that through this point I am not trying to portray the urban working woman as a vamp as mostly depicted in our favourite K-sops. Prominent studies relate opting late motherhood to cancers of various types. In her pursuit to achieve her position today she has deliberately killed the divine essence of Mother Nature in herself. Feminism was never about churning out males out of women. It always advocated equal incentives to both the sexes so that basic human rights aren’t violated.

Another concept called consumerism, the brain child of globalization and westernization has been rightfully blamed for the commoditization of women. Most urban women(who have since long never been into their kitchens) have become slave to this trend. Do we then consider this positive women emancipation?
Women need to ask themselves whether they are aspiring for a job, a career or a higher calling in life, since leaders are motivated from inside out.
Eventually, putting my opinions in a nutshell, I find it apt to say that the ‘go-getter” attitude of women today needs a tremendous change. Its we, the privileged of the lot, who must rethink before we dive deep into this rat race. The effort has to be collective including the women of the masses. Otherwise people like Shashi Tharoor will always find an opportunity to call our country “a land where paradoxes reign supreme”.

exploring masculinity

EXPLORING MASCULINTY: CAN MEN CHANGE?


Here is one of my favourite stories, which gives me hope that men can change!
It was 1942 and Gandhi ji was addressing a press conference at his Ashram in Wardha. After every few moments he would say, “excuse me, gentlemen, I must go in for a few minutes.” He would then go into his hut and return after 8-10 minutes. After he did this for the third time, an irritated journalist asked why he was wasting their time-why couldn’t he finish the press conference and go in once and for all? Gandhi ji gently replied that he did so because his wife Kasturba was suffering from acute diarrhea and was too weak to go to the toilet.

As this story shows, Gandhi ji tried to strike the right chord between his mothering instincts and public duties. For him serving Ba, cleaning the Ashram toilets, spinning yarn was as important as leading the Nationalist Struggle against colonialism. Looking after and the upkeep of the essentials of his ill wife was in no means derogatory to the status of any man. Rather this is how Gandhi ji identified with the spirit of Mother Nature present in every human (read: man also). It is that very essence of “ardhanarishwara” which needs to usher in this world of He-Gods. And in the final analysis, it is those men who are able to balance their inner “man” and “woman” become great and immortal. Strong, macho, power-wielding men might be feared but they are not revered.

AN ODE TO THE INJURED LIP

They say there is a pair
For each pair of lips.
And it were yours
Those adorned mine
On that beautiful day
When it rained pearls
From the heavens, through
The foliage of clouds,
On the green grassy
Carpet on which we stood.

Those very pearls
Landed on my forehead,
Slid from the slant
Of my nose and
Perched themselves
On my lips which then
Shone like the
Red of a Ruby.
That crimson luster
I again saw,
On the previous night,
But more red in color,
For it is
Blood which bruises
Always draw.

Last night,
As I recall,
The lower of the pair
Hurt itself, ignorant
And unaware.
This pair of mine,
Once blessed with
A kiss from yours,
Had its lower one
Drenched in blood.

As if overwhelmed
With sensuality,
The volcano eject
Molten lava.
As if every prick of a thorn
Devotedly oozes blood
Out of my skin
And nourishes
The insatiable Red rose.

It was then that the
Dawn of a smile broke
Heavy on those lips
The same injured lip.
Not a sign of any pain
But a throbbing tribute
To Thee,
The ornament of my lips.

MY NIGHT LIFE
_____________
i sit through the night
without a trace of any pre-occupation,
and my mind wanders in
a nomadic disposition.

i try to reflect over the
speculations that were
but in the past
long -forgotten.

i like to encircle myself
with the mess borne and brought up
by me,just like a mother.

i enjoy the music of the clock
ticking away but wonder if
time could halt and jive to
these beats of click-cluck.

i do sometimes feel like cleaning up
but this ignorant pen stealthily creeps
in my hands and i start scribbling this.

i exclaim,
with a sigh of relief,
"PARADOX IS MY
SECOND NAME".

we blame emotions...blame them for the crimes we commit...for the overflow....fr the broken dam....
this poem is a product of my heleplessness...as i surrender myself to the might and whims of...
UNTAMED EMOTIONS







UNTAMED EMOTIONS

Hopelessly, I sob and weep.
Haplessly, I cry and sleep.

Watchfully, I gaze at time.
Wistfully, I glare at the tide.

Doomed, I behold sanity.
Denied, I search acceptance.

Wanton, I lust after chastity.
Forsaken, I disown my destiny.

Willing, I cling to life.
Living, I cross the line.

Meandering, I fathom my reach.
Grueling, I predict my halt.

Solitude, I find in chaos.
Serenity, in the jostle within.

Ecstasy billowing inside my corpse.
Delirious joy brewing my spirits.

Liberation, I seek in confinement.
A discharge, through the cleft amidst.

Passions, I yearn to tame its storm.
Detain its marauding ways.

Failure, though I unearth eventually.
A void dwells in me as residue.

Mightier, it grows with each encounter.
Gallant, whenever it seizes my being.

Glorious, I never could become
Volatile, my tears befall.

Pitiful, alas! I am tamed instead.
Timid even in isolation.

Incessant, is the clash within
The saga, eternal and reverberate.