Self-Exploration: Was I ever a Feminist?

(For Ayesha Khan with love, the Zog)
There she was. For the better part of the last three years I despised her. I couldn’t believe she lived the way she did. That she didn’t expect more out of herself, or of her children, of God, of anything. There she was babbling ignorantly about sarees, matching bangles, spoilt pickles, and the female next door. I would have brushed her aside yesterday, forgiving her for a lack of education. But people of my own age, I could be cruel. How could they want to give up their jobs after they got married? How could they say that “They would put their family first” after the State spent so much money on their education? How could they be so unbelievably satisfied with so little? Where was their drive? How could they be like this in the 21st century, after Y2K? Feminism had gone to the dogs.

Today things were different. The very feel of the air, the way the sky shone an electric blue seemed to signal awakening. It’s strange, but when a relationship is over or a new one made, do you ever notice that the object of your affection looks different? It might be the change in perspective, an innocent figment of your imagination, but there is a violent change shaking that perpetual sameness. Like a picture covered by a transparent plastic sheet. Once the sheet is removed, it looks the same and yet it’s naked, and you can’t seem to escape the fact. So she stood today, it took time to get used to such unabashed truth.
And the truth was: SHE WAS HER. AND I WAS ME.
And like a sword it pierced me: WHEN WERE YOU EVER A FEMINIST IF YOU CAN'T EVEN LOOK THAT WOMAN IN THE EYE?

Feminism has gone to the dogs. Any group with a crack under the surface cannot as a rule get anywhere. Before I went all-out male bashing, I had to quit female bashing. It was ok. The cop, the doc, the housewife, the rebel and the prostitute, we were all in the same boat. Real feminism was about giving women the power to do exactly what they chose to do. If she wants to croon lullabies and moon over her son’s first medal, it was upto her. What we as a group were trying to gift her was the ability to choose. If she wishes to be a goon or a mistress or a hired help, it was upto her. We were here to make sure the choices were safe and available. Just like the career-girl was given the rough ride half a century ago, here we were, giving the stay-at-home moms hell now. Just like the tomboy could never come out of her shell yesterday, the girly-girl keeps her eyes low today. It’s not ok to be dumb or blond or like Barbie dolls, to like poetry and embroidery, to want to stay neat and organized, to prefer pastel to navy, to choose Chanel over Brut. Why do we make life difficult for other women? Why do we stereotype them? Guys never make it difficult for nerds or playboys or blokes. With guys I guess it’s just the fear of gays. For the average 21st century feminist, being feminine, watching soaps, not having crushes, being virgin when you’re married and being a teetotaler are all punishable offenses. Besides the numero uno offense-not placing your career over the family. Guys do that too. It’s just they sacrifice the career of their choice to keep the family together. Same offense-different style. Other guys don’t mind.

It’s time we got the act together. As feminists true to ourselves, what we have to do first is make women feel at home in their traditional roles, convincing them they are no less than other women with careers. We have to fix our sights on educating women to better perform these roles and educating men not to treat these women like dirt. They had other options. They chose this one. Considering that a significant majority of women all over the world are performing traditional roles, a boost to their morale could only further the cause of feminism. The movement was conceived as a tool to empower women and enrich their lives. At least the latter objective would be partially realized by our move and it would pave the way to the former. It’s simple but it’s effects would be like a tidal wave washing over all of humanity. If today we choose to give these women the respect they deserve, to acknowledge them as a part of the movement, it would do no end of good to the spirit of the woman of tomorrow.

Eve chose to eat the apple. What people often forget is that Adam had a choice too. Women have been crucified long enough for that one choice at the very beginning. It’s time other women stop crucifying them. Leave that to men and the devil. And as to God, he banished both from the garden. And I think the additional sentence of nine months of labour on Eve is bull. Since she had the strength to take her own decision, God knew only she would have the strength to bring forth life, from which all else begins.

Getting the Zog to tie the knot…. (Pun intended)

This vacation was loaded with surprises. Well most vacations are but this one sort of made me rethink my entire 21 year old perception about my so called “upwardly mobile” family. That basically they are not that. Or anything else that was cool or elevating. No, they were normal. For a person who derives such a disproportionate sense of pride from being abnormal, this was not good news. It sort of indicated that my genes too were normal to some extent and as a consequence I was ordinary. A piece of knowledge I could live without.

It began with the slow realization that my family too like Bindhu-Leela-Seema’s expected me to get married soon after my graduation. The hints were meant to be subtle to begin with but you normally don’t expect it out of a family where females don’t flinch speaking about your choice of lingerie in front of your cousin’s wife, twice removed, on her first visit home. It began with sending younger cousin spies with me wherever I went. I suddenly noticed how hopelessly interested those pesky things were in my phone calls, how often they kept checking through my smses, and questions like,” Oh Nikhil called again? That was his third today. What does he look like?” or more blatant interrogations like,” How many boyfriends do you have?” Wow! People had amazing faith in my sensuality and overwhelming charm.

Step 2: All my relatives start to establish with a vengeance that they lead happy married lives. Hellooo! I’ve seen you guys at it for 2 decades now. I know you guys stayed married all these years just for this moment, when you could somehow convince me to inflict the same mind-numbing torture on myself.

Step 3: Try to find out the sort of guys who interest me. “You’re going to the states right? So what if there’s this proposal from someone in the states? You know-an engineer like you.” I think for a moment and say,”No, not an engineer.” “Doctor?” ”No, By any chance is Dylan McDermott still single?” My aunt turns to my mom and asks her, “Did you know about this guy? You never told us.” My sis and I could have died laughing.
My sis is lectured to on being good and helping my dad out during these “difficult times”.
All she could think of was,”Is there gonna be another gulf war? Do we get to wear gas masks?” Another round of solid chastising brings her around,”Chechi marry a rich guy so that he can buy me a seat in MBBS.”

Step 4: Getting close family friends, so called “forward-thinking” aunts and uncles and other Gen Y people to talk me into it.
My mom’s friends: But mole, you’ll have a person to be with you and take care of you in the states.
Zog: I can take care of myself. Thank you.
Friends: But you never wake up on time and stuff, he could sort of, you know wake you up, help you do your chores.
Zog: Do you want me to get married to an alarm clock or a dish-washer? And hired help is a possibility worth considering at this point.
Friends: Why do you think you don’t want to get married?
Zog: I am young. There are a lot of things I have to see and do, a lot of places to explore…
Friends: And he can be a companion!
Zog: Don’t you think I’d get bored having the same person with me all the time?
(Pin drop silence in the hall)
My mom’s younger sis, a Gulf returned wannabe tries next.
Aunty: Of all your guy friends, who do you like best?
Zog: I dunno, like all of ‘em.
Aunty: But someone must be a bit more fun?
Zog: Naaa…
Aunty: Then why is it you keep a nickname for Haathi only?
Zog: Um maybe coz he’s the only one who looks like an elephant and can puncture your ribs with his fist.
Aunty: You’ve never had any crushes?
Zog: Loads
Aunty: How ‘bout now? Who’s the lucky guy this time?
Zog: Have you ever considered the possibility I might be interested in females?
(God, I swear I could die in peace after just watching the expression on her face)

Step 5: Restricting movement and emotional blackmail.
Dad: Who was the guy on whose bike you were riding today?
Zog: Brijesh
Dad: Why did you get on his bike?
Zog: It was the fastest way home?!
Dad: Tell me the truth
Zog: Oh I’m gonna marry him next week that’s why. (You asked for it honey.)
My granddad and granny
Gd: Mole, we’re growing old and we wish to see at least one of our grand-children married before God calls us.
Zog: He seems quite busy now don’t you think, so could be a while before he remembers you guys. So you stay put.
Gm: You were always a selfish child. When you were a child remember the china doll that…
Zog: You guys don’t have to live with the thing I marry for the next 40 years of your life. So cut the selfish crap.
(Dumbstruck expression. For a moment I felt sorry for them there)

Step 6: Logic. Or the lack of it.
Dad: But mole the average Indian guy is placed in an MNC by the time he’s 22. Once he’s settled his parents will get him married. So by the time you’re ready to get married there, will be no eligible bachelors left.
Oh my god! A scarcity of bachelor boys. Who would have thought of it?
Zog: Get me married to a Jhat. Majorly skewed sex ratio there with all the female infanticide and stuff.
Dad: Why don’t you even try to be serious? (Angry)

Zog: Coz you’re trying to get a female who can’t even wake up in the morning for class on time, who doesn’t have even the most basic social skills, who can’t stand it if it takes five seconds more to load her homepage, still carries a lucky pen to her exam hall and believes with all her heart and soul that she’s going to win the Nobel prize before she’s 25, to establish a family. Coz YOU are not even trying to be serious.

At the end of all this, the best surprise of them all came with the realization that Indian guys too were under similar pressure. At the last wedding of the season, the first Hindu wedding I ever attended, I came upon a group of mommies who were in the throes of a most animated conversation.
Mommy A: The groom is quite young, barely 24 it seems.
Mommy B: Well it’s better to get them married than to wait for them to find some characterless whore in those software companies in Bangalore.
Hmmm….I wonder if it ever occurred to them that even after the knot such a possibility exists.