Apu’s World

I love the epics - the Ramayana, the Mahabharata - and all the hundreds of stories related to them. I love the way in which you can have different versions of them and say, oh, but in this version, Rama doesn’t really send Sita away. The epics have other uses of course - they are the stories that tell us what we (as a people) value, and how people should live.

The epics are in a sense the lessons that our ancestors have passed down to us. How wonderful is it that we should be able to draw on the learnings built up by people over a few thousand years of civilization? Few other peoples in the world today can boast of this. This is the sense of wonder that the epics evoke in me and make me proud to be Hindu - not in the narrow-minded sense of Indian culture is the best and we have nothing to learn from anyone else.

Recently, I gifted my dad a copy of Gurcharan Das’ ‘The Difficulty of Being Good: On the Subtle Art of Dharma’, a book that I plan to borrow. It is a book that (I think) draws on the Mahabharata and places its moral lessons in the context of contemporary times.

Which set me thinking, is there a way to draw lessons from the epics in a more nuanced, less literal way than is normally done? One of the ‘big lessons’ of the Ramayana is that of absolute obedience to one’s parents, a lesson that must cause discomfort to most individuals living in modern times. Dasaratha exiles Rama to 14 years in the forest, in order to keep a pledge that he makes to Kaikeyi years before, and Rama obeys. Without question. Sita follows him into exile, although after much argument.

From a feminist perspective, it is possible to look at this episode as the maintenance of a patriarchal order where son obeys father and wife follows husband (rarely do the epics look at obedience to parents from a woman’s perspective).

Yet, another way to look at it is through the lens of affection. Does Rama unquestioningly accept exile not just because that is a son’s duty, but because of his love for his aged father ? Because that love does not allow him to let his father be an oath-breaker? Does Dasaratha’s own love for his son (which the epic mentions repeatedly) compel its reciprocation? From this perspective, the lesson is not so much about implicit obedience as about the power of love, although the former is what is usually taught us as children.

I have no ‘point’ to this post really, except that it is really possible to read the great epics in many more ways than one.

apu In General

To be a mother is to feel guilty. If it’s not for the big things, it’s for the small things. If it’s not others making you feel guilty, you do it to yourself.

All mothers know this, which is probably why over at Women’s Web, this feature, ‘Fight that Mommy Guilt’ got such a tremendous response from readers.

Which is why, we’ve decided to go ahead and use it as the theme for our first contest on Women’s Web.

The rules are simple 1-2-3:

1. Write your own post on ‘Mommy Guilt‘ - it can be funny, sad, touching, angry, thoughtful - anything you choose. And you don’t HAVE to be a parent - anyone with a story to share can participate.

2. Make sure you include a link to our feature, ‘Fight that Mommy Guilt’ somewhere in your post.

3. Let us know of your entry - on the comments section of the contest entry post, at our Facebook group, at our twitter ID, or by emailing us at contests@womensweb.in with the words ‘Mommy Guilt’ in your subject line.

(If you don’t have a blog but really want to participate, you can still send it to us as an attached document at the e-mail ID mentioned above, and if it wins, we’ll publish it here. For these entries, obviously, step 2 doesn’t apply)

And the Prizes?

The 3 best entries EACH get a Rs. 500 voucher that you can use to shop for books, music or other goodies at Flipkart. (Anyone in the world with a valid e-mail address can receive these vouchers, but Flipkart currently ships only to addresses in India).

This contest kicks off  NOW - which means entries dated from 17th June to 28th June will be valid, when we close for entries and start judging.

The Judges? Yours truly, and Nita Deb, the writer of the original piece that started it all.

Go ahead and give it a shot!

apu In General

A week or so ago, through a Facebook group, Amazing Passages from Favourite Books (totally worth checking out, btw), I revisited Tonight I can write the saddest lines, one of Chilean writer Pablo Neruda’s best known poems.

In the Youtube video above, it is being read beautifully by actor Andy Garcia. (Isn’t it amazing how sometimes, less is more when it comes to a performance?)

From the poem, these lines stayed with me, Love is so short, Forgetting is so long. Indeed, in that one line, it can be said that Neruda has summed up all of human existence, or at least a big part of it.

Love is short. Many things break it up, and I’m not just talking of romantic love. Blood relationships break less easily, but even there, there is plenty of scope for complexity. While we like to eulogise the unconditional love between parent and child, even there, there is and can be jealousy, anger, sometimes even apathy. (We need to talk about Kevin is a book that looks at one very dark parent-child relationship - it’s a book that sent shivers down my spine when I read it).

So yes, love is short - people change, things change and worst of all, death happens. Inspite of this, we invest of ourselves in many relationships. Sometimes, I feel as though our love and passion for certain people makes us impervious to the fact that there is no such thing as forever.

Logically speaking, we know that heartache will find us, sooner or later, but we prefer not to think about it. Is this bravery or foolishness, I am unable to say. All I can say is that forgetting is so hard.

apu In General, The Literary life

Cross-posted at Women’s Web

Former Haryana DGP SPS Rathore has finally had his sentence extended from a measly 6 months to well, a very-slightly-less-measly 1.5 years. No doubt, there is some justice here for the family of Ruchika Girhotra, a young girl who was driven to commit suicide due to the harassment suffered not just by her, but by her family.

Yet, most of us know that while one Rathore has been sentenced, there are scores of others who get away with impunity - they are never charged or the victim’s family is encouraged to ‘compromise’ or simply browbeaten into dropping the case, especially if the accused is an influential man.

While the Indian judiciary has to be commended for its many forward-looking judgements in such cases, the fact remains that the law in India moves at an intolerable pace. The impact of this is naturally much higher on the poorest and weakest sections of society as well as on women.

Those from low-income groups simply cannot afford the expense needed to come to court a hundred times, nor the time needed off from work. Those from so-called lower castes are often forced to drop cases, for fear of violence or social ostracism. And women? Women are encouraged to ‘adjust’ and make peace, either to ‘protect their honour’ or that of the perpetrator.

I read this account a long time ago, where a woman who was harassed on a train journey and went on to file an FIR realized what an ordeal it was just to get to filing an FIR in an Indian police station. And this was an educated woman, aware of her rights, a journalist with a reputed publication and therefore a person with some leverage. What happens to those with no such leverage is well-known - their cases don’t even get started.

So, unless the government is serious about police reforms and the judiciary really gets their act together and start moving much, much faster, sentencing one such man is of no use; it may give some courage to other such victims, but we need to do much more to ensure that no other young woman feels the need to end her life.

(This case also shows why we need separate child abuse laws; let’s not forget - Ruchika was 14 when she was molested. In all civilized societies, there is much heavier punishment for abusing children, who are among the most vulnerable classes in society).

apu In General, Women & Feminism

This one is going to be different sort of a post, in the sense that it’s really not from me. Instead, what I’d like to do is share a reader’s comment and request all of you to respond. Yes, I am specifically asking for comments, since this reader’s note made me feel really sad - all of you reading this, it would be nice if you could take out 2 mins to leave your thoughts. Since my reader, Siranoush has asked for your views, I feel such sharing might be of some help to her.

This is what Siranoush says:

I would like to share some of my story with your readers to see if any of them, feel the same as me. I am a widow, after 55 years; raised multiple children, all college graduates, with their own families and friends now. Most of them, live out of state from me. Since my husband, whom my children adored, passed away almost 4 years ago, most of my children have shown very little interest in me. I suspect it is because I am not needed now and there is very little to hold us together. Their children, my grandchildren, rarely visit me also and, if they come, they immediately go to the television set! This is a negative for me. But, out of every negative, one has to look for a positive–and–the positive for my children, I believe, is, that when I pass on, they will not miss me. You see, how can someone miss someone who is no longer a part of their life!?

I’m sure they love me, but, I really am out of their lives. I am not needed as a baby sitter, so, what am I needed for? Nothing? In the past, if one of my children or grandchildren was hurt or sick, I would immediately go to them–take a plane or whatever. I would always go. They never would ask me. My love for them, would take me there! So–I am always here for them, but, they are not here for me. What do your other readers think about this. I would sincerely like to hear! Thank you.

What are your thoughts for her?

apu In General