Archive for the ‘Relationships’ Category

Two faces of the wife thrasher


2010
12.08

I WAS single-mindedly focused on work, yoga and helping sis settle into life in Dilli, when this self-indulgent reverie was nipped in the bud by the sounds of a woman in distress. She was being thrashed by her husband, a night watchman by profession, and was being called foul things like “badmash aurat” and “gundi aurat” because he suspected her of sleeping with his brother.

Their three kids stood in the vicinity. The eldest, a teary-eye girl of eight or so, seemed to sense the mother’s pain. Her brother, a boy of 6 or seven was grinning. The youngest, a girl of about four who for some strange reasons likes to dress up like a boy, was also grinning. “Woh jhooth bol raha hai,” the boy told me in my ear.

The husband turned to me and said she was a bad woman. “Even if she was, no one should EVER hit a woman,” I said. This tenet did not go down well with the man, who was punch drunk. He asked his wife to leave the house along with the kids. In the next 20 minutes the lady and her children scrapped together some things, including a stick of radish, sweaters and a bedsheets, and bundled them into the trunk of my car. On her way down the stairs, the wife crossed paths with her husband, who dropped all the items in his hands, so he could slap her once again. The lady began wailing again, and we hurried to the vehicle.

Her sister lived in a very tiny room, which could barely accommodate two people, let alone six. A friend who accompanied us, told me, “The husband will be back soon because he has needs (food and sex)”.

And she was right. The following morning, he was there with an apology and the promise to never slap her around again. But the wife wanted to stay put. She, the eldest daughter and I headed to an NGO for abused women that came highly recommended on Twitter and otherwise. A counselor met us and explained the protocol. The lady would need to chronicle in writing the husband’s misdemeanor and that she wanted the NGOs help, post which they would speak to the husband and informs him that if he continues down this path an FIR will be filed and they would fight the court case, which followed. The counselor said she would speak to the husband that very day, if she wished to file one.

But this was not to be. I called up the next only to be told that case worker was on leave and no one seemed to have any record of this meeting. One week and two days later we have not heard from them.

In such a scenario, time is of the essence. The husband was coaxing the wife with a vengeance, to come home. Her sister was coaxing her to follow suit. We dialed another helpline that came well-recommended but the No. was constantly busy. Several people who directly or indirectly work in the area of abuse offered help mostly in the form of suggestions of which NGO to call. I also received laundry lists of organisations and their nos, which effectively, one can pull off the Internet. I am grateful for their efforts, however lists are more intimidating than helpful. And frankly who had the time to cold call so many places?

One organisation said they only do advocacy and invited me for some gala event to campaign against the abuse of women. The head asked me to speak to a specific person at the very same NGO I had visited. But what was most disturbing is that, she gave me the helpline no, the one that is consistently busy. Don’t people understand that all nos and addresses can be pulled off the net with a few clicks?

After two nights and no intervention, the lady returned home with her kids. She looked dejected. Even if the flesh was willing, the spirit was dead. Her hubby seemed happy, and brought ice-cream for the kids. But my friend Sana who works in the area of abused women, warned me that the violence will strike again. And she was right. The man came home punch drunk and started pulling her hair and slapping her. But apparently the kids began yelling and formed a sort of human shield around the mother, so the father stopped.

Luckily, a colleague’s relative heads a human rights commission. He sent across a policeman who cut authoritarian figure and carried a bamboo stick, to speak with the husband. While the kids were at school and the lady at work, the cop gave the husband a warning, and said that the next time round he would be at the police station. When the wife returned home, the husband feigned being “slapped around” by a cop. But he said he won’t touch her again, and they can live in the same house but “go about life their separate ways”. I noticed that post this visit, the lady seemed to have found her voice and one can only hope that there is no more violence.

Wife beaters inspire two kinds of reactions in me – vile anger that heightened when at their violent worst and pity, when the voice of authority makes them beg to be spared.
However, the immense, immense disappointment I feel in the NGO, which in a sense let the lady down by not following up, is immeasurable.

To be honest, the counselor did not inspire much confidence even during our meeting. I had hoped that she would offer some more specific, perhaps practical advice to the lady, and her disposition lacked a sense of urgency. We could have been discussing the lunch menu.

I ranted on about it to a friend, and he said it could be a class thing. But I seriously doubt it. As a culture, our attitude towards things like efficiency, punctuality, prompt communication, urgency of purpose is rather lackadaisical, perhaps non-existent. For instance, I was surprised that we did not even have any sort of reference No. One would expect that besides the legal spiel, a streamlined process and commonsensical solutions might also be suggested.

On a different note, we explained to the lady’s son that grinning when mummy is being thrashed is not cool, and that he needs to look after her always. He nodded and said he would, but having been exposed to a precedent set by the father, he could go either way. Fingers crossed.

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Goodbye old life…


2009
11.27

Typed on November 26, 2009:

Last year, on this very day, I was headed back to Mumbai post accepting a job offer in Delhi, Noida to be more precise. The previous night I remember watching on TV (in the days when I used to watch telly), bullets flying around at Leo’s in Colaba. I presumed it was a gangbang and drifted off to slumber-land. I woke up to an SMS, which conveyed concern and a sense of urgency from dad; Mumbai seemed to be burning.

My new boss texted to ask if I was alright, and en route to Mumbai. My friend, the Slug asked me to SOS if I could not find transport at the airport. The deafening silence at the a deserted domestic terminal in Mumbai, made this honourary Mumbaikar, very queasy. I headed to the Slug’s house and we watched in wonder and horror, as the gory events of 26/11 unfolding at the Taj Mahal Hotel in Colaba.

Shobha De was ranting (like a banshee) with fury to Barkha Dutt, about politicians from opposing parties travelling on the same flight, while the latter seemed impressed by this unlikely feat (a la such a national sacrifice!). Though I must admit, De was saying what should have been said, about politicians and their little tawdry tricks.

Narendra Modi arrived in Mumbai, and was posing tall in front of a TV camera. A man positioned himself (unknowingly) between the minister and the viewfinder, and a split second later, NM shoved the unsuspecting bloke out of the way! Comical. Akin to swatting a fly.

26/ 11 now seems light years, away. I no longer live in Mumbai, something I thought unimaginable a little over a year back. I resided for eight months in Noida, which for me is like the urbane wilderness. It’s quiet, dull, and what I disliked most is the lack of any cultural activity in this allegedly developed town.

I don’t know how eight months went by, and even though I lived there, I wasn’t really living. As I walked the streets, I was constantly looking over my shoulder to see who was observing me and what cars were approaching dangerously close. Though I must dmit, there were no “incidents”.

And yet, I don’t regret the experience, because I learned to appreciate the simple, joyous things in life. Like being able to stroll in broad day light, in a pair or shorts. Or stepping out at 12 am, to gab with a friend over a cup of coffee. And not having to travel (on an average) for four hours a day for a job I thoroughly detest.

Ahhh…life is good. Touch wood.

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Breaking up is easy.


2009
11.21

I have a new good friend who shared some insights on the modern-day marriage. She crossed over (to the dark side) eight years back and drew an analogy between the characters of the 2006 film, The Break-up and the stakeholders of her own marraiges, and tried to explain why she and hubby work as a couple, whilst Jennifer Aniston’s and Vince Vaughn’s characters, didn’t.

The man is a beer, football ‘n’ buddies kinda of guy, while the woman is happy to curl up in bed with a glass of wine and a book, post work. There are moments of supreme irritation, when the twain does not meet. But she and the hubby have worked out some ground rules.

For instance, they never go to bed without making up. Sometimes she tries to get away with it, but her hubby is staunch about resolving issues before hitting the sack.

They don’t always do stuff together. Sometimes, she heads out for a movie with friends while he’s working the playstation counters. She doesn’t get playstation, but their home has a room, which accommodates all his toys.

She pampers her guy every now and then, by springing on the surprise; maybe a candlelit dinner or a simple yet sweet gesture of affection. Sigh.

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New Rules


2009
09.02

Bill Maher’s New Rules, a collection of his politically incorrect commentary, denigrates everything from Bush to celebrity flashers to terrorism to virginity pledges, with a dash of humour, lots of audacity and at least one reference to some aspect of popular culture.

It fuels my liberal leanings with a flourish, and inspired by his observations, I have some penned some new rules of my own.

Marriages made in hell

NEW RULE

I’ve observed that only friends and acquaintances with the worst marriages advocate the institution (with some exceptions, of course, and I am not factoring in well-meaning aunts, uncles and cousins).

They cite morbid examples such as “my spinster cousin who is 45 and not married is frustrated, miserable”. My chatty 28-year old maid who has three kids and a cold husband, who takes her nowhere, is one of them. This morning she ranted on, and I asked her if she was happy in her’s. “Nahi, meri barbaadi ho gayi (no, I am destroyed!),” she said, like reflex. Then she changed her mind about my impending nuptials.

Now, the couples in happy marriages react very differently. They want to stay well-informed about the exploits of their single friends, right down to the gory details. Hubby and wifey will make the time of day of you, you shall have their undivided attention over good food and wine, and there shall be chuckles. Lots of them.

So, my advice to not-so-lucky married people, whenever you find yourself advocating the institution to unsuspecting singles, zip it. They shall marry, if and when the time is right, and for the right reasons, and not due to some bourgeois societal norm.

Save it

NEW RULE

It’s a little naïve (and somewhat cheesy), when dating couples cite this particular reason for saving themselves for the honeymoon suite, “We must save at least something for after marriage”.

A male friend of mine has a novel perspective on this. The true test of any relationship is to see what remains once consummation is complete. Do you still enjoy each other’s company? Do you still have s’omething to talk about? Can you be in the same room? Do you already have a case of the roving eye?

On a different note, it’s interesting to know that most ‘savers’, have explored all other ‘loopholes’ (in Bill-speak), if you know what I mean, which defeats the purpose of doing any saving (for religious reasons or others) in the first place.

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The Dilli Way


2009
08.18

It has finally dawned upon moi — trust no one, and be nice to no one, unless you have good reason to. You can be polite of course. But nice…I would ask you to wait a wee bit before extending niceties to the average Jo.

Even if people seem nice, ask yourself very objectively: are their sucking up because I am cool, rich, powerful or attractive?

I have seen suck-ups at work, masterfully taking their art to another level, and those on the receiving end feeling pleased as punch one minute, rude and ruthless, the next .

It’s almost as if people don’t have faith in their own ability to be interesting or successful. But of course, you can’t hold any of this against people, because as the good Lord once said, ‘Forgive them for they know not what they do’.

But there is a silver lining. If people genuinely like you, expect the world from them.

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Black Or White


2009
07.25

We all have a certain “type” we are attracted to. A twenty-something single Indian male friend shared,” I want to date a woman who is either very, very fair, or very, very dark.”

No cliche there. I pondered a bit and then it struck me. He’s a photographer who only takes pictures in black and white. Maybe he views the world in black and white, and this colour palette now extends to people, and the women he dates, too.

So, what is YOUR type?

Here goes: rugged, must have a bit of a wild/ rebellious streak, can’t have a petty bone in his body.

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Happy ‘n’ Gay


2009
07.03

On the way to work this morning, I voraciously combed the paper for all dope on the HC’s judgement to decriminalise homosexuality. My eyes grew moist, as I thought about all my friends in the gay community.

Yesterday’s high court judgement was long overdue. But a colleague observed with scepticism, “I doubt it will change the perception of gay people in India. This media is simply hyping things.”

Maybe.

But imagine the sheer confidence  that any gay person would feel, knowing that he or she could now legally exercise their own sexual preference in this country? Well, not the entire country, yet (but when the capital takes the lead, the rest of the country will hopefully follow suit. Fancy this happening in Delhi, which is perceived more conservative and insensitive than say Mumbai or Bangalore).

This fact changes everything.

No longer does a gay person need to be quiet when harassed, blackmailed, extorted or jailed. Besides, gay people seem to always be associated with more promiscuity. I quizzed a gay friend of mine about this, and he responded that one reason could be that all liaisons and relationships need to be conducted in secret, because your have the law against you. They can’t get married, claim mediclaim for their partner, et al.

I feel sad that Christian groups in India are investing time and energy in opposing this  judgment. What ever happened to tolerance?

Bill Maher conducted a borderline comical interview in his documentary Religulous, where he interviews a gay chap who turned pastor and claims to be a straight pastor. In other words he was ‘cured’ of his condition.

Bill flirts with him, in his typical brazen style, and it’s obvious that the pastor naturally responded to it. All that suppression is SUCH a waste of energy. Besides, if we just allowed gay people to be happily gay, I think this world would have a lot more character. Touche.

The LA Times features an empathetic piece on this development:

Personally, I think that though the Indian media is indeed going to town by sensationalising things, which can sometimes be a good thing, they do report with a little more empathy, and not make a carnival of the whole event. Some restraint and empathy, is the need of the hour for the Indian media in this country.

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New Friends ‘n’ old friends


2009
06.14

Coaster art

A young un' created this lovely piece of coaster art by screen-printing popular music and movie icons on glass 'n' pasting them on a wooden frame.

An old friend of mine came down from Mumbai the other day. Let’s call him Dr Jo. I have known him for about five years, now. Till date I did not know what he did for a living. and vice-versa.

Maybe it was because we always seemed to be surrounded by people, sounds, smells and other distractions. But this time round, we spent some quality times together, and our conversations took a new,  uncharted turn.

We did get to understand the nature of each other’s, not to mention discover new dimensions to a friend’s personality.

I think everyone must an opportunity to meet an old friend in a new city, after a short spell apart.

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THE DARNEDEST THING!


2009
05.09

A close friend of mine said the darnedest thing to me the other day; if the circumstances were different he would have pursued me and asked me to marry him. Apparently he thinks my personality is very appealing. I inquired about these circumstances, and he refused to comment.

And so, insightful, nosey me, I elaborated for him: religion, community and age.

He agreed.

We tend to have a love-hate relationship; every once in a while we have a fight over ideological differences, and then we agree to disagree. Yet, it takes us a while to reach a place where we truly agree to disagree.

And all the acerbic moments melt away, making way for the most delightful, affectionate, cheery exchanges.

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