Being married to a hardcore movie addict is a perplexing proposition. DH can binge watch Telugu movies sometimes over three a day. Being married to me - who cant sit through a single movie without 20 breaks - can't be easy for him I suppose. However, in the last 8 years or so of our marriage, I have watched more than a lion's share of the so-called "leave your brains home" brand of movies our lovely Tollywood likes to dish out by scores... Usually, the story line goes like this - there is this "hero". He is adored by scores of people for this "image". So the movie invariably includes 3 heroines, some mass masala dialogues - double entendre is the way of our lives here, one double meaning item song for the front benchers and of course a villian to beat the pulp out of. This - I had learnt to stomach.
For most part the paternalistic misogynist view some of these movies take, can be overlooked as little harmless, peppered with cinematic imagination, artistic license or whatever rocks your boat... But once in a while there comes a brilliant WTF moment that leaves you scratching your head looking at the calendar in dismay wondering if this is indeed the 21st century? Sometimes this is scene (as above) or a poster or just an unusually explicit double meaning dialogue in a family entertainer. Those are easy to spot and comment on.
However sometimes the realisation comes hard and ugly through an epiphany. This weekend DH was on a movie binge. Given weekend time should be "family time" I tried to give in and watch some of it with him. The first movie was Drushyam. A brilliant movie, tight script and some wonderful emoting by all. Brought home the perils of technology and gave me a lot of ideas re. the " birds and bees" talk for DD.
Least of which - a surreptitiously taken photograph or an explicitly recorded video is not the victim's cross to bear. There is no shame in taking off clothes to take a shower (Hint: That's how roughly 100% of the world population showers....). If someone records you in the act then get his/her sorry ass to cybercell and do not worry if there are strangers ogling at your naked dick/vag pic or boob pics online. That's not YOUR shame its theirs and that is how it should remain. But that's digression for this post...
Anyone who watched that movie would agree, the guy who recorded and subsequently blackmailed the heroine and her mother - soliciting sex in lieu of not making the video public - was the VILLIAN. The situation was horrifying. The daughter was being victimised.
Interestingly, the next movie DH watched was Govindudu Andarivadele. A parallel story track in the movie - Hero records some drunk pics of the heroine (HINT: Pics clicked without heroine's consent..) A short while later in their ancestral village, the guy who recorded and subsequently blackmailed the heroine - soliciting kisses and embraces laced with heavy sexual undertone in lieu of not making her drunken shenanigans public - was the HERO. The situation was "romantic". The lady was being wooed.
The mind boggles at how a top hero agrees to endorse this sort of a garbage... In a family movie, no less. So imagine a parent having that TALK after Drushyam. We talk about the perils of technology. The concept of consent. The criminal element to the whole blackmail thing.
But then comes a shitfest like this one. The same actions are being eulogised. The guy is a hero for crying out loud. This is how a girl is wooed. It mucks up the concept of what is OKAY and what is not for girls and boys alike.
I dread the argument - But that was in a shower. This girl was drunk and dancing in a bar. She kissed him for God's sake. He FELL in love after the kiss, you see...
ONE - No consent in the clicks
TWO - Inebriated conditions is legally not an acceptable decision making state
THREE - Blackmail is still illegal
FOUR - Romance does not being with illegal behaviours and that is not how relationships SHOULD get started.
FIVE - This is also victim blaming at best...
Unfortunately, every other mainstream movie has this thread in our regional movies.
SVSC - Mahesh Babu tells the girl - You should feel happy we are creating memories for you. "When I was young, guys used to evetease and molest me as well" apparently is what girls aspire to in terms of memories...
Attarintiki Daredi - An amnesia ridden heroine is treated like a lap dog. The hero weaves a miserable tale of how her elder sister was hit by a truck or something (Hint - lies, because he is being burnt by her loving someone else LONG BEFORE he even came of the scene...)
Just to name two more...
Given stuff like this gets passed through censor board time and again I really wonder there is the FTW here... This is out and out W...T.... F!!! Sorry DH - This shit aint for me no more!!!
A woman by birth, an Indian by heart and software engineer by chance, wife to a wonderful man & mother to an adorable little princess by destiny, a humorous wisecracker, avid reader, decent singer by choice. That in a nut-shell is me. Stay with me as I share with you my views on life.
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Thursday, January 29, 2015
My struggles - Accepting my introversion
Introvert?
You? – That is the most common reaction when I tell people that I am one of
those introverts you read about. People imagine introverts to be a species of
people who shun all forms of public contact preferring to dwell in the darkest
corners of a basement pondering over a myriad mix of chemicals or pagan
rituals. (We do and we will come after you!! But that is not ALL there is to
us…).
Or maybe a breed of people so shy and geeky they stutter and stammer at the mere sight of another human being.
Or maybe a breed of people so shy and geeky they stutter and stammer at the mere sight of another human being.
Seriously
though – extroversion and introversion are not black and white. They come in
different shades of grays. Depending on your life stage one might even swing
from one end of the spectrum to other though at the core they still are firmly rooted
in one category or the other.
These
are merely the base nature that relates to how people recharge. For introverts,
a quite Me-time after a long day is not a choice or a luxury. It’s a deep need
that helps them recharge their human batteries. Extroverts crave company in the
same way. Human interaction, social conversations and forming social
connections is what they need to be able to function next day again. This is
not to say that introverts cannot handle social interactions or extroverts
can’t contemplate in solitude. It’s merely not their idea of “rest”.
However
society has a definitive view of personality types that are “successful”. People,
or mixing with people, is a central theme to all humanity. Think of a ROLE
MODEL that personifies or screams “successful”. In all likelihood, your mind
conjured up a very social, good looking creature (possibly male) who is for a
want of a better term “the life of a party”. Popular literature and culture has
fed that image in our heads for so long that it’s almost impossible to notice
the quieter models of success. Google
“famous introverts’ “successful introverts” and there are some pretty
surprising results out there that will make you rethink this idea.
Greatest
scientific mind in all history? Albert Einstein. Introvert.
The
most recognisable Indian in all world? Mahatma Gandhi. Introvert.
One
of the first IT revolutionaries? Bill Gates. Introvert.
Arguably,
the most celebrated advocate for women empowerment. Emma Watson. Introvert.
The most celebrated contemporary author? J.K Rowling. Introvert.
People
from all categories of human nature have been changing the world and introverts
have been on this journey just as long as the extroverts though this has not
fed into the popular culture as yet.
One
of my many travails in the MBA year was the constant emphasis on networking,
meeting new people, forming new connections and socialising. Every. Single.
Day. Our well-meaning and usually benevolent careers team made a point to drill
the importance of cultivating contacts in the real world. For most part, this
is a sensible advice. And looking at the emphasis laid on this in all the Ivy
leagues around the world, this is on par with the rest of the world. However,
when one third of the population in the world are truly introverts, there needs
to be effective thought on how to make this process relevant for those who are
at the rear of the introversion spectrum.
When
you integrate success so closely with socialising isn’t it also a given then
that there needs to effective strategies to help the introverts go through
these loops? Frankly speaking my MBA year put me in touch with my inner self
more than anything. Giving the emphasis on understanding the human psychology,
behavioural psychology and organizational psychology, one cannot walk away from
a good MBA program having not understood where you stand on the scale. Pre-MBA,
for the longest time I thought if I gave into my desire to be “alone” I would
never be successful. If I did away with all social interaction, I’d stand
nowhere. Right from my engineering days I worked so hard to mingle with people,
understand their viewpoints and “integrate into the mainstream” that I forgot I
was working doubly harder than everyone else who did not happen to be
introverted in nature.
For
them a social-do is just about meeting new people and understanding them,
relating to them, finding a common point of conversation and building the
networks. For me for ALL THESE TASKS I’d have to work at “being there” “listen”
“focus on the speaker” “don’t daydream” “don’t look at the door looking for an
escape window”. No wonder I ended up so exhausted. No wonder I formed so little
of those meaningful connections in those years where I was constantly in a
tug-of-war between “Stay” and “Look – escape window”.
Exhausted.
Frustrated. Defeated. Deflated. That was me every single day of trying to be an
extrovert that I was not and failing miserably at it.
A very popular idiom that
has an equal saying in almost every language “The darkest hour precludes every
dawn”. Nothing has been truer in my case. One of the worst on-job experiences
taught me of my inherent incapability to play this game any more. Coupled with a Armageddon in my personal life, I had no choice but to turn into what
I really was all along and retreat back into my mental dungeon.
“Knowing
yourself is the beginning of all wisdom. “ - Aristotle
I
took a good 8 months off every form of social contact and constantly revisited
what I was going wrong, what I really wanted in life and what were the BARE
ESSENTIALS when it came to survival. Given how battered my confidence and
self-esteem were, I knew a professional scene at this moment would ruin me
forever. Plus, given I had marked myself FAILURE in almost all aspects of my
life I needed to do something that would make me “feel good” about myself. A
lifelong ambition – the dearly regarded MBA – seemed like just the thing. I
never focused on anything in life as much until that day (and truth be told,
since then, for that matter).
Once at the B-school of my choice, I was again bombarded with the same message over and over again – Network. Network. Network. Make connections. Be successful.
Once at the B-school of my choice, I was again bombarded with the same message over and over again – Network. Network. Network. Make connections. Be successful.
For
some reason though it did not sound right. I was still recuperating from the
wounds of the last two decades of battling and deeply wary of going in for
another round. So I searched deeper for some more answers? What is their
definition of success? Turned out KPMG, Bain, Booz, BCG, McKinsey and likes. Jet-Set-Go
lifestyle. A 200k+ salary. Private club membership with power lunches and big
names from the corporate world. I knew from the word go that this would NOT be
me. Success or not.
My
first foray into the professional world after motherhood was in a different
city from the baby. I lasted 5 weeks being a Mon-Fri mom. For most part I don’t
even mention that on my resume anymore. Ok to travel? Not.
Money?
How much is enough? I had already hit the ceiling in terms of my pay in the
local market with the “job from hell”. That did not make me happy. The joy of
the salary lasted for EXACTLY one pay cycle. Ok to be unhappy in a high paying
job? Not.
Private
club? What private club? Why a private club for me? Unless you are talking
about a club with no one else in sight and no one to talk to. (If you have a
private club like that – Shut up and take my money. Take it now!) My idea of a
power lunch is a veggie sandwich in a clean café with a book in hand and
unobtrusive waiters who do not feel the need to “chat up” their customers. So again - a private club? No.
With
that my mind began to turn and I seriously introspected on what I needed in my
life. I was miserable in consulting. I was miserable being a housewife. Having
been independent all my life in terms of finances, I needed to stay the same.
For some it’s a matter of pride. For some others, it’s a necessity. For me,
it’s a precursor to sanity.
But
then that was all there was to it. I couldn’t handle having an all-consuming
job. Because I already have one. Being a mom. Given I’d spend a good amount of
my time being a mom, I’d want my life after job to leave enough to let me be
me. Embracing who I am has been the most liberating experience of my life.
In
the past couple of years, I travel light. I have relationships. Just the few
which add purpose and meaning to my life. I have a job. But that is just so
that I am financially independent. I am a mom.
But I understand that my daughter’s life and her struggles are her own
and I do not (and can NOT) pick problems from her plate to solve.
In
the past, I made a lot of career moves that I knew were wrong. But I made them
in the pursuit of success, money, name and/or validation from other people. Now
I have made drastic career moves. Alarming, some might say. But I know I will
thrive in here. I know this is what I am meant to be. And I have never been
happier than this before.
And
I could sum this up in the words of Susan Cain –
“…introversion
is my greatest strength. I have such a strong inner life that I’m never bored
and only occasionally lonely. No matter what mayhem is happening around me, I
know I can always turn inward.”
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Religion and me...
Who
am I? Where do I come from? What is the meaning and the purpose of this life? –
The existential dilemma has bothered each one of us at some point of time in
life. And these questions have stayed back with the mankind since ages. A good
number of us have at some point of time turned to religion for the answers.
For
others religion is not about seeking a higher meaning to our lives but it’s
just an aspect of their identity conferred by the accident of birth. Indeed,
the birth of a human differs from all the other ones in a sense that as a human
being the simple event of being born bestows some characteristics that none of
the other animals are forced to accept. Nationality, regional identity,
religion.
Personally,
I was born in a Hindu Brahmin family in the early 80s. My life and my journey along
the way to where I am today has put me at an interesting crossroads of sort.
And THAT is what I am here to talk about.
At
a personal level I am still a “practising” Hindu. And entirely by choice.
I
lost my parents-in-law quite soon after my marriage. An unfortunate falling out
with the rest of the family few years later has to come to mean that I have no
interference from the family I married into. My husband is a quite a
non-practising Hindu himself, thus I am free to dress as I please. Yet I wear
the insignia of my marriage – bindi, taali, toe-rings, sindoor etc with a great
pride. In a large way that is who I am and my freedom to dress as I choose to
means I dress AS I LIKE. As an Indian in Australia, I do stand out when I am
out but then that is who I am. I feel bereft without these and so I refuse to
take them off.
Though
- Is this necessarily a religious sentiment? Not really. Like so many other
Indian women, my taali finds its way under the pillow every single night. The
sindoor goes off for a toss when I have a really bad bout of dandruff. Many a
times the morning rush, I forget to wear my bindi. Though I hate looking at my
face on such days (again a matter of habit!) I won’t rush to home or the
nearest Indian store for restocking a spare.
Again,
I am in plenty superstitious. If I don a new dress/purse/jewellery and have an
altercation with the man-of-the-house or have some other unfortunate event you
can bet your life I will not wear it again. Ditto for the other side of the
coin. All my engineering exams, I wore the EXACT same dress that helped me
clear a particularly hard one in first year. My mother swore the dress would
fall in tatters the day I finished my engineering.
So
what does it take a person like me to rue turning away from religion? And AM I
turning away from religion.
Let
me attempt to take it one at a time. Growing up, I had a motley crew of people
around me. Muslims, Christians, Hindus from all levels of the purported caste
system. Growing up - we were always told religion and castes do not matter.
My
dad, a liberal soul, who happens to be one of the biggest influence on me
growing up and continues to be my guiding post judged people on their merit,
their nature and how they dealt with people around them. People who put him off
– he never spoke ill of them or picked up fights with them. They would just
cease to exist in his life and his mind. I was always envious of his ability to
“tune out the noise”. If they reviled him, it reached his ears but never his
heart. In that sense, dad has always symbolised “karmanye vadhikaraste ma
phaleshu kadachana” aspect of Hinduism.
Yes,
he did 108 recitations of “Poojyaya Raghavendraya” on the way to work, yes he
understood the art (or science) of Vedic astrology, yes he could recite the
Vishnu Sahasranamam and Lalitha Sahasranamam without having to refer to the
texts if he so pleased. Yet he is the truest of karmayogis as well. He related
to people without labelling them into buckets of religion or caste.
He
never encouraged (in fact actively discouraged) the ritualistic aspect of
Hinduism. Rather than fast the entire day in name of God and turn waspish
towards the end of the day, he would rather we spent our efforts on the more
unfortunate than us. Rather than spend thousands of rupees running after
jyotishis he would rather we spent time trying harder to achieve whatever goal
we had set in mind.
Never
before than now in life, have I appreciated what he taught us. When I look back
at some of the more memorable moments of my life - Friends (and/or
near-strangers who went to become role models) from all walks of life have come
in my life and enriched it all the more. Friends who cheered for me on paths of
success, friends who picked me up in times I needed a helping hand – These are
the people who quoted choicest excerpts from my religion and practises of my
faith to support what they had in mind to lift me up and egg me on to reach for
the stars. These are PEOPLE who cared. PEOPLE for whom I mattered. Who they
were in terms of their nationality or religion or caste is a moot point.
On
the other hand, people in close quarters – sometimes friends, sometimes close
family have wreaked havoc in my psyche. Hoped I’d fail. Declared upset at my
wins. Quoted choicest excerpts from my religion and practises of my faith to
support what they had in mind for themselves and for me. Again, these were PEOPLE
who craved my downfall. PEOPLE on whose nerves I rankled. Who they were in terms of their nationality
or religion or caste is a moot point.
And
in the end this is what has mattered. Analysing people through a set of
blueprints labelled Caste, Region, Religion or Nationality does not matter.
Some people are gems who should be held on to at all costs. Some people are
assholes. You can NOT let go of them faster. Bringing any other aspect except
their basic nature is a wrong way to go.
Further,
like dialects, there are so many shades to any organised religion it’s nearly
impossible to pin point a definitive version of any religion. Which tenet of
Hinduism I chose to pick or ignore is just as personal a choice as the
particular dialect of Telugu I learnt to speak. And given any religion is a
conduit of MY PERSONAL EQUATION with MY GOD who reserves the right to comment
on it?
So
it immensely saddens me to see the current public discourse in newspapers all
across the world. Condemning Islam. Calling Muslims all over to the world to
condemn attacks as if they are responsible for fringe elements hijacking their
faith. In the same vein – Am I responsible for all the Ghar Wapsis, vandalism
in the name of hurt religious sentiments and Hindu militia happening back home
in India? I relate to all that just as much as some of my Muslim friends relate
to the fringe elements in THEIR religion. Who the hell is Sakshi Maharaj and
why is he telling me to have four kids? Does every Christian friend of mine
need to apologize for all the cases of child abuse Church has been involved in?
Thousands
of years on earth later, why are we still fighting on whose God is stronger,
mightier, more benevolent and more omniscient? If you like a red dress and are
free to wear one without me insisting you wear my favourite shade of yellow,
why can’t be let our faith be a matter of purely personal choice as well. And
yet, there is something about our religious fervour that does not let us look
the other way when we think people around us are NOT conforming to our views or
version of faith.
From
what I have seen - Religion is not a problem as much as the sense of pride in
“all things my faith” people insist on. I’ve recently engaged in a quite a
number of “passionate exchange of opinions” with people who keep dropping on my
Facebook posts to point out how wrong I am, how misguided my view on religion
and Islam is and how I am missing the point of their fervour. These are usually
followed by private messages on how Hindus of the world need to unite, take
collective pride in our roots and ensure the continuity of the religion? (What,
what and WHAT?) My kneejerk response has always been to UNSUSCRIBE from their
posts on my feed. Secondly, I refuse to pay attention to their comments on
pages of common friends. But I refuse to let them get away with militating
page. I refuse to let them assume silence amounts to consent. And so more and
more each day I am drawn into argument after argument on things that are so
bloody personal that none of us is ever going to change our position on it by
fraction of a millionth of an inch just because the other yelled louder than
us. At best we both come across as opinionated assholes. If not, it might just
amount to a pyrrhic victory where you win an argument and lose a closely
cultivated relationship. I desire no sainthood conferred upon me but having
lost many a dear and valued relationships to inane reasons I abhor having to
give up any more if I can help it.
Which
makes me wonder – Do I keep close to my heart my interpretation on what a Hindu
is or what a Hindu does? Or just let go of my religion altogether (at least on
social media) so that I don’t have to spend endless hours debating semantics.
Again, is that not hypocrisy in itself. And my dear “involved” Hindu brethren –
Do you not become N-1 by losing that one person from an already “extinct”
breed?
So
yes, inane debate on what should our thoughts and interpretations of religion
should be notwithstanding - what should we be allowed to believe in or not, how
should we relate to people from other religions in personal capacity are a
matter of individual introspection and comfort.
From
where I see it - The world does not need religion as much as it needs humanity
today. Honor killings, female infanticide, sexual assault on women, growing
corruption, homophobia, xenophobia, climate change, world hunger, poverty and
many more maladies ail us today collectively as a specifies. These are problems
that need more attention and work than what I believe my God says.
In
immortal words of Abraham Lincoln - When I do good, I
feel good. When I do bad, I feel bad. That's my religion.
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