ഒരു മതേതര സംസ്ഥാനത്തിനെ എങ്ങനെ വർഗീയവത്കരിക്കാം – 10 ഘട്ടങ്ങൾ

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1 .സംഘ പരിവാറിനോട് അടുത്ത് ബന്ധമുള്ള അഭിഭാഷകരെ കൊണ്ട് സ്ത്രീകളുടെ ക്ഷേത്രപ്രവേശനത്തിനു സുപ്രീം കോടതിയിൽ ഹർജി നൽകുന്നു.  [കേന്ദ്ര ഗവണ്മെന്റ് സ്വാധീനത്താൽ (?)] സുപ്രീം കോടതി  അനുകൂല വിധി പുറപ്പെടുവിക്കുന്നു. ഇത് ഭരണഘടന അവകാശം ആയതു കൊണ്ട് തന്നെ ഇതിൽ തെറ്റൊന്നും പറയാനില്ല. ചീഫ്ജസ്റ്റിസ് തൊട്ടു പിന്നാലെ വിരമിക്കുന്നു.

2 . തൃപ്തി ദേശായി തന്റെ പെൺപട ഉടൻ മല കയറും എന്ന് വിളംബരം നടത്തുന്നു.

3 . കേട്ടപാതി കേൾക്കാത്ത പാതി അങ്ങോളം ഇങ്ങോളം കേരളത്തിലെ വിശ്വാസികൾ നെട്ടോട്ടം ഓടുന്നു. #Readytowait ഉം “Save ശബരിമലഉം കൊണ്ട് അടുത്ത വെള്ളപ്പൊക്കം facebook ഇൽ.

4 . രാഹുൽ ഈശ്വറും ടീമും ചാനൽ ഇളക്കി മറിക്കൽ തകൃതിയായി നടത്തുന്നു.

5 . അയ്യപ്പനെ ഋതുമതികളായ സ്ത്രീകളുടെ കരാള ഹസ്തങ്ങളിൽ നിന്ന് രക്ഷിക്കാൻ ബിജെപി നിരത്തിൽ ഇറങ്ങുന്നു.

6 . കേരളത്തിലെ വിശ്വാസികളായ ബഹുഭൂരിപക്ഷം ഹിന്ദു ജനതയും തങ്ങളുടെ രക്ഷകർ ആയി ബിജെപിയെ വാഴ്ത്തി സ്തുതിഗീതങ്ങൾ പാടുന്നു.

7 . നിഷ്പക്ഷ വോട്ടുകൾ, ചില ഹിന്ദു വലതുപക്ഷ വോട്ടുകൾ, കുറെയധികം ഹിന്ദു ഇടതുപക്ഷ വോട്ടുകൾ എന്നിവ ബിജെപി വോട്ടുകൾ ആയി റെക്കോർഡ് വേഗതയിൽ മാറുന്നു. [മോഡി മാജിക് പോലെ (?)]

8 . തങ്ങൾ 21-ആം നൂറ്റാണ്ടിൽ ആണെന്ന് പാടെ മറന്ന ചില കൊട്ടാരങ്ങളും രാജാക്കന്മാരും കാരണം വിധി പുനർപരിഗണിക്കാനായി അപേക്ഷ നൽകപ്പെടുന്നു.

9 . നാടകീയ രംഗങ്ങൾക്ക് ശേഷം,  പുതിയ ചീഫ് ജസ്റ്റിസ് [കേന്ദ്ര ഗവണ്മെന്റ് സ്വാധീനത്താൽ(?)] വിധി തിരുത്തുന്നു.

10 . തങ്ങളുടെ ഏക ആശ്രയം ആയിരുന്ന ബിജെപിയിലേക്ക് കേരളത്തിലെ ഹിന്ദു വോട്ടുകൾ മലക്കം മറിയുന്നു.

ഇതോടെ ഒരു മതേതര സംസ്ഥാനത്തിന്റെ വർഗീയവത്കരണം പൂർത്തിയായി. കേവല മനുഷ്യനെ പോലും രക്ഷാകവചമാക്കി നിരത്തിലിറക്കേണ്ടി വന്ന “സർവ്വരക്ഷകനായ” ദൈവത്തിനു പെരുത്തു നന്ദി.

 

 

How to convert a perfectly secular state to a religiously polarised one, in 10 steps

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Step 1 : Advocates who are in bed with Sangh Parivar, file a petition to lift the restriction of temple entry to women in Sabarimala. The Central government influences their court stooge of a Chief Justice (& Co) to give a positive verdict. The ban is struck down (which also aligns with the fundamental rights of a citizen, and hence doesn’t raise any eyebrows constitutionally as well). Supreme Court Chief Justice retires immediately after.
Step 2 : BJP makes Trupti Desai & Co declare their imminent arrival to Sabarimala.
Step 3: Believers across the state tremble in fear for the bachelorhood of Lord Ayyappa. #Readytowait floods the social media. ‘Save Sabarimala’ banners decorate FB profile pictures.
Step 4 : Rahul Easwar & Co starts their TV battle to “save Ayyappa” from the untouchables – ‘menstruating women’.
Step 5 : BJP starts protesting on the streets against the verdict, “to save their god” (as absurdly funny as it sounds!).
Step 6 : The large Hindu population in Kerala look up to BJP as their saviour, who “stood up for their god”. (Oh the irony!)
Step 7 : Neutral votes, some Hindu Congress votes and majority of Hindu Communist votes start getting magically converted to BJP votes.
Step 8 : Thanks to the palaces and kings who still have a say in the sociocultural matters of 21st century, a petition is filed for a review of the Court verdict.
Step 9 : Post some dramatic scenes the new Chief Justice & Co overturns the verdict [under the influence of central government (?)].
Step 10 : More neutral and Hindu votes turn into BJP votes, BJP being their “god’s” only saviours, their knight in saffron shining armour.
Religious polarisation of a perfectly secular state, complete. Thanks to gods that need human saviours!

Belonging  

6 July 2018

The seed belongs to the flower,
The flower to the stem,
The stem to the plant,
The plant to the roots,
The roots to the earth,
The earth to the nature.

Everything belongs,
Everyone belongs,
To something or someone.
And yet there are lives,
That are tethered,
Yet not belonged.

Is there a sense of void,
More profound than that?
Why is it that being with yourself,
Just does not seem to suffice?
Why is it that being happy with oneself,
Still isn’t happy enough?

Every tiny flicker of life, blossoms into this world
Belonging to someone.
Then to live here with a sense of unbelonging,
And to fear to leave here,
In a state of barrenness,
Maybe an angst unfathomable.

For all we want, is to belong,
It’s almost an instinct that’s primal.
All we want is to exist forever,
Even once we are gone,
Atleast as a memory of another’s prized treasure,
Or as a slice, of someone’s precious heart.

 

Roots and some epiphanies

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4 May 2018
For the first time in my life, I actually miss India while being away. Usually this never happens, because of my insatiable wanderlust. To add on to it, I have been having revelations of sorts. Out of which the most striking one is the fact that I’m suddenly immensely glad I was born Indian, and for the first time I’m feeling overwhelmingly happy because if it. I’m appreciating from where I come from, for the fact that my roots have a tenderness that the west lacks, for the fact that we have an unruliness the west does not possess, an unruliness which is almost poetic, because it comes off as more natural than the mechanical orderliness of the west.
I’m suddenly grateful of the fact that I understand and enjoy eastern things..and feel an innate sense of belonging to them. They may not be the finer things in life, but they sure have a quality, or rather a tenderness that is etched into the nature and the cosmos – a sort of beauty in chaos. Eastern music has it, our dance and art forms have it, our literature and our spiritual places have it. And the bliss I feel even at the thought of it all is divine. It is not something that the western materialistic world possesses and for the same reason we are not able to perceive them while in the thick of western lifestyle or culture. I don’t know how much I’m making sense, but I do think at least some of my fellow Indians have thoughts aligned to mine, and can at least obscurely understand what I’m getting at. I guess it’s always most difficult to express something that we feel at the core of our heart, rather than something on our mind, especially when our heart is brimming with the said feeling that it just doesn’t overflow as words.

I am wondering if being pregnant is what is making me have these thoughts that I’ve never felt before. Maybe bearing this pixie stardust from the core of this universe inside of me and being one with this incredible, magical spark of life, is what is making me have ‘enlightenments’ I’ve never had till date. After all, at this moment this tiny one is divine in every sense.

Women’s Day Wishes to all Superwomen!

It’s Women’s Day and especially in the wake of the highly controversial breastfeeding campaign that swayed Kerala this way and that, with a rollercoaster of opinions, just pondering over few things.

1. Why do some people think showing ‘some parts’ of the body is ‘vulgar’ and some are not? Showing off mid-riff while wearing a saree is okay, skin seen till just above the knee is okay, showing your bare-skinned back through a low cut back-open blouse is okay, hands seen bare till the shoulder is okay, but showing part of your shoulder and upper chest is not?

2.Why are even modern women with supposed modern outlooks still conditioned to such pre-conceived notions?

3.Isnt it high-time we understood it’s personal freedom of a woman to decide and feel comfortable with the length of her dress or the amount of skin she shows? And that noone, not even other women have the right to judge it.

4. Breastfeeding may look the same as wearing a low-cut blouse, or an off-shoulder top, but it isn’t. Someone is having food, not having sex. So it should be less frowned upon, but unfortunately it is the opposite.

In this 21st century where women are oppressed in all walks of life, we should at least be granted the freedom to choose how we dress or feed our baby.

So, all my women friends, please wear whatever ‘you’ want, a low cut blouse, an off shoulder top, a micro mini skirt, a bikini, a hijab, whatever. Feed your baby however you want, in the privacy of a room, in a public place, wearing a towel, without it, or however you deem comfortable. Wear, flaunt, fly, for you are all Supergirls! Noone has the right to judge you. Those who do, are hypocrites of the highest order. “Attire Nazis” I would say!

Happy women’s day, all you beautiful women out there ! Much Love 🙂

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US, UAE and some lessons in love (23/09/2017)

20 days, 10 flights, 5 cities, 2 countries, numerous people, and uncountable experiences later, I sit here pondering on what exactly was my single take-home from this trip. Despite all the fun I had, the many places I visited, the memories I made, I think the one thing that struck me most, and stuck with me were the amazing people I got to be around. Though I was on a solotrip, I spent most of my time in close proximity with different couples in each city. And I somehow got to learn a lesson or two on relationships. Which expectations are unrealistic, and which are not, and whether I was wrong every time I self-doubted my worthiness to receive anything in a relationship. I realised for a happy and healthy relationship, taking each other for granted should stay an anathema.

I don’t know if it is the fact that these people are away from their extended family, or the fact that they are in a place where they don’t get house help like in India  that seem to have worked in favor of their relationships. I saw men who considered his woman as the other half of him, and not a bigger half who has the bigger share of house chores, or a lesser half who is a slave who does all the house work that he is also meant to take care. Moreover, I saw that a completely contented woman always had a husband who was mindful of her smallest discomforts. Even when she pulls open the car dashboard he would ask her to mind her knees. When she walks across the street, he looks out for oncoming vehicles even from inside the car. When she sleeps in late, he makes sure he cooks her breakfast by the time she is up. And so on and so forth it goes.

I realized that a truly contented relationship may not always have a wife who is mindful the same way even with her boundless love for him. But that’s forgivable, I understood. Because like it or not, it’s a fact that almost always it’s a woman’s heart which craves the need to be tended to, to be protected, to be kept in a treasure chest padded with soft pillows, and man, the one who revels in keeping it in a safe haven, just the way she wants.

I saw people who made love and consideration for each other their priorities, and there I saw truly contented hearts and eyes. I saw love that is worn like a beautiful trinket, which shimmers its way even through the darkest of nights. Love that clothes them, salvages them from the fiercest of winters. Love that was like tattoo, had become part of their skin, which cannot be stripped off of them, no matter what. Love that was etched on to their flesh and to the core of their beings. Love without which they cease to exist, their souls be no more.

And only that kind of love, is love. ‘Cause, there just isn’t any place for mediocrity in love.

(Wrote this 5 months back, but thought of posting it on the day of love.)

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY !

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In the wake of #MeToo…

MeToo-twitter-imageOver the past 2 weeks, social media has exploded with the #MeToo campaign. It caught fire when actress Alyssa Milano tweeted #MeToo in the aftermath of ‘Harvey Weinstein’ scandal, where dozens of women accused the Hollywood mogul of having sexually harassed them. Following Alyssa’s tweet millions of women have come forward with stories of being prey to known and unknown men who sexually harassed or molested them.

I too put up a #MeToo post just like 90% of my women friends did. It is commendable that we women have found strength in the collective, which we couldn’t as individuals. I prefer to refrain from articulating on the many incidents over years, which led me to write #MeToo. Instead I’m pondering over this one time when someone groped me in an office meeting room – the safest places of all, one would assume – and to my utter disbelief, I found myself dumb-struck. I was unable to move or say a word for the first few minutes. My tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of my mouth, my hands seemed stuck to the sides of my body, my senses frozen.

So what happened to the bold, liberated, free spirited woman I presumed myself to be all those while? What was this inertia which suddenly consumed me beyond my own belief? Was it because I was transported back in time to a period when I found myself in similar predicaments, but did not know how or if I should respond? Or is it that despite all what I had surmised about myself, I too am just another weak, feeble, hapless woman like the millions I doled out pity over the years?! If so, who was responsible for my complete incapacity to react, despite being a non-conformist who has been relentlessly vocal about justice and its paraphernalia? Why did I let him walk out of the meeting room with a puffed-up chest like he had conquered something prodigious, instead of hanging his head in shame for his abominable behaviour? The fact is, I felt disgusted. I am not sure who is responsible for that though – him, my upbringing, or the society as a whole. A revolting, repulsive feeling overtook my entire being that I was ashamed of my body, ashamed that I have breasts. And made me freeze like an Arctic iceberg.

Thankfully I was wise enough to come to my senses, lodge a complaint with the HR department and the punishment he deserved was meted out – immediate termination. The myriad of #MeToo hashtags that have been swarming the internet shows the unbelievable number of women who have been preyed upon right in our vicinity. Isn’t it surprising that most of the women we know have all been wronged against, but none of us know as many men who have been in the wrong? Precisely why women need to rise from being lambs who find strength just in herds, and be tigresses who hold their heads high even while facing the storm. Let fingers be pointed with no shame, at those who think they can hide in the safety net of anonymity endowed by the silence of women.

This thought catapults another incident to my mind. Of another woman who stood up against the atrocity that she was faced with. A colleague at the same office, who had an exactly identical experience from her co-worker. She promptly filed a complaint to the HR team. She had to attend multiple hearings and discussions for months, which culminated in them deciding to move the person to another location as a disciplinary action. She expressed her disapproval that this sort of trivial penalizing would not suffice. And now even after 10 months, she is still fighting for justice. The worst part is that, one of the lead in the HR team, called her for a meeting outside office premises and advised her to forgo the case, lest it creates more issues and more ignominy to her. The difference between mine and her case was that, I had a voice clip I discreetly recorded while confronting the guy about his deed and that proved his culpability, while she on the other hand had no proof of the incident. Whatever happened to ‘no questions asked for harassment redressal’, that too in a company which has been featured repeatedly in the global list of ‘Top 50 employers for women’!

And a question gnaws my insides – When a woman is treated like she is a run-down wall any passer-by could scrawl scruffy graffiti on, it takes every shred of her strength from every crevice of her being to tear herself open, lay out her entrails and scream aloud of how she was trespassed. And when she manages to do that, if the law, the organization she works for, or the society that includes her family and friends look at her as if she is a culprit, and if she needs to prove what happened to her or she needs to be ashamed of what transpired, what is she left with? When she tries to stand tall and cry her lungs out of the horrors she endured, where would a woman draw strength from, if her trembling shins are kicked down?