Why Are Indian Festivals & Customs Sexist?

 

I am an Indian national, grew up on the soil of my motherland, and have completed fifty revolutions around the Sun.  I am quite aware of my surroundings and of the latest happenings.

Yet  sometimes  I ponder  and tend to ask myself: Why are our festivals, traditions and rituals so male-oriented?  And why are women happy with their lot the way they are treated??

For instance on Rakshabandhan why must only the sisters (read girls) tie rakhis on their brothers’ wrists? Standard answer:  Boys are requested to protect and safeguard their sisters. It is also a token of affection.  Ahh, so girls don’t require a similar token,  right ?  Ditto for bhaiya dooj which arrives  two  days  after Diwali. Once more, the same logic: this is to pray for brothers’ well-being and longevity. Fine. But shouldn’t the boys too to pray for the sisters’ long  happy  lives? If they die early, who will tie the rakhis or apply the tilak?

Even at the risk of sounding inane, I wish to remind our post 1947 and post 1980’s Indians that the poet Tagore had taken a bold, unique step regarding this festival.  After the partition of Bengal in 1905, he had given a clarion call to members of both sexes, Hindus and Muslims alike to celebrate the occasion in a spirit of harmony goodwill and brotherhood. Some logic in that.  Consider the upanayana sanskar (sacred thread) of the Brahmins. This is to confirm a boy’s status as a Brahmin. Again I am tempted to ask: why no sacred thread for girls? Are they non-Brahmins or not qualified enough for one?

Why are most vrat-upavas  (fasts)   to be observed by women alone  e.g   Karva chauth , Vat savitri,   Hoi , Teej/Hartalika Teej etc  which women perform for the  happiness and well being of their spouses and  children? Would the sky fall if men try to observe fasts for the welfare of their wives and children?   Come on, after all they are one family, aren’t they? Why is the onus always on women? Why are penances hardships and rigid steps heaped on them alone??  At finale of Pitr Paksh on the occasion of Mahalaya (Hindu All soul’s day) why do only oldest living males of each family pay obeisance to the departed souls /ancestors? Having said that has anyone ever seen ladies officiating as priests during community Durga Poojas in pandals or Navaratra celebrations in temples across the country?  Coming to low key religious ceremonies conducted  privately in people’s  homes  ie Mundan(tonsuring) Annaprasanam (baby’s introduction to solid food), Satyanarayan katha,Saraswati & Lakshmi puja etc the priests are invariably men. It‘s got to be one of the two things: either women lack adequate cerebral matter to study and retain Sanskrit hymns or else they are too weak to withstand the rigour of elaborate ceremonies. Now when our women are boldly going into space or plunging down to the ocean floor, or flying aircrafts,  why can’t they  handle religious  ceremonies as well? Why must religious ceremonies always be a male bastion?

R.A.G

I Am A Feminist…..

I am a born feminist .Rather it would be apt to say that feminism nestles in my DNA /genes   whatever you may like to  call it.

I owe this to my  late mother who was a feminist in her own way.She was a graduate when her peers were content with finishing school.She had a diploma in secretarial practice from YWCA. She also held a government post for nearly 15 years.She decided when she would have children.She scoffed at rites and rituals though she had firm faith in God. And most important of all she stood by me when her son and his wife tried to deprive me of our parental property. I must add here  that I was always better fed  and am  more educated than my  sibling.

 

If  this isn’t  feminism enough, then what is??

 

Personally speaking   I do not believe in burning bras  or  peeing  in the open  like  men.  Yet i am  a staunch feminist.

 

I firmly believe right from childhood females ought to have access to nutrition,health & hygiene  education, economic independence,  control of their sexuality and choice of  partner,  freedom of faith and practice. My idea of feminism also implies that women must raise their voices against injustice and malpractice .They ought to even resort to violence to save their dignity and honour.Being a doormat  or shedding silent tears is an absolute no-no

R A G

On

Mannada : In memorium

On a fine October day in 2013, the  melodious voice that had regaled hundreds of thousands of music lovers worldwide was hushed forever. The doyen of Indian playback singing Manna Dey bid adieu to this world – bringing to an end a scintillating musical career spanning seventy odd years.

Born on 1^st May 1919, there was music in Dey’s  genes or DNA as they say nowadays. One of his paternal uncles was a renowned classical singer. And it was he who initially groomed and moulded Manna’s singing talent.  At age 23, Dey accompanied his uncle- turned- tutor Krishna Chandra Dey to Mumbai  where he worked as an assistant music director, first under his uncle, and subsequently under Bollywood’s iconic musician Sachin Dev Burman . Meanwhile his training in  Hindustani  classical music  continued  under the tutelage of  Ustad Aman Ali Khan and Ustad Abdul Rahman Khan. Later, he assisted several other music composers, before deciding to strike out on his own. His first break in playback singing came with the film  Tamanna,  wherein  Manna sang a duet “Jago Aayee Usha Panchi Boley Jago” with the  legendary Suraiya  It   was an instant hit!

To garner experience, Dey willingly worked with all contemporary  music directors, lyricists, and composers of Bollywood,  besides those  who came into  limelight in the succeeding  decades.  His list contains all top names including SD Burman, and Anil Biswas  to  Laxmikant Pyarelal ,Kalyanji Anandji, Salil Choudhury, Shankar Jai Kishan R.D Burman,  Hemant  Mukherji among others

Manna Da  – as he was popularly called by his fans and colleagues alike – was at home  in all kinds playback  singing  be it solo,  duet,  fusion or  kawaali .  His teaming up with renowned  crooners –from Shamshad  Begum, to  Gita Dey, the maverick, Kishore Kumar, not forgetting the Mangeshkar  siblings Lata and Asha – resulted in  a number  popular  and immortal hits.

Among Manna da’s evergreen melodies,  figure Aye Mere Pyare Watan   (Kabuliwala)  Laga Chunari Mein Daag  (Dil Hi Toh Hai )  Kaun Aya Mere Mann (Dekh Kabira Roya ). Be it the lilting notes of  Jhanak Jhanak Tore Baje Payalia  (Mere Huzoor),   the vibrant Ae Meri Zohra Jabeen (Waqt)  and  the rustic Chalat Musafir Moh Liya (Teesri Kasam).

Dey was a master craftsman; his golden touch churned out masterpieces.

In 1968 R.D. Burman created a landmark of sorts, when he brought Dey and Kishore Kumar together to sing the hilarious   Ek Chatur Naar (Padosan).The combination of  Dey’s solid classical base with Kishore’s tomfoolery, creative imagination and spontaneity made the song a chart buster!

During the last two decades of his life, Dey bid a quiet adieu to Bollywood and Hindi playback singing .Though he continued sing in   Bengali movies, yet he now shifted focus on bhajans and ghazals in diverse regional languages.  In addition he also gave a good many live performances during the last phase of his life.

Though the familiar, dusky figure, with sunken eyes, heavy, black rimmed spectacles, and the signature fur cap is gone, yet his brilliant music remains etched in our minds and hearts…

R .A .G

Driven by Wanderlust

I enjoy travelling immensely.  For the simple reason that travel opens up new vistas about the world, before a person,   widens his outlook on life and things. In fact  we  humans are lucky to  be alive  in a huge, sprawling  world  comprising numerous    countries  large and miniscule,  innumerable  anthropological and ethnic groups, races, languages costumes, food habits, queer rites, rituals and practices and lots more.  Considering the geographical diversity wouldn’t it be far more interesting to see, discover, and learn about planet earth through travel than confining oneself to reading history, geography and life science books in a classroom?

On a personal note, my restless, mercurial temperament drags me out of my humble abode rather frequently (provided of course that I have adequate resources and time). Fortunately I have managed to crisscross across my motherland over and over again.

 

Ever as a toddler I recall travelling with my  parents to the  desolate shores  of  Kanya  Kumari — the  cape   where the subcontinent dips into the Indian Ocean, the sprawling  emerald beach Kovalam, the splendid  rock-carved  shrines at Mahabalipuram not forgetting the urban  Marina  beach bordering Chennai.

 

As a teenager I marveled at the colossal waves hurtling down on the golden  sands at  Puri; at night  the  moist but balmy  breeze and the roaring  of the sea waters  would lull me into sleep. My visit to Goa happened during my college days.  It is very rightly hailed  as the pearl of the Konkan coast! Little wonder that the Portuguese fell in love with the place and made it their home for centuries

Our great country is studded with numberless shrines and places of worship. From the ruins of the ancient sun temple at Avantipora (Kashmir) to the breathtakingly beautiful Dilwara temple complex on Mt Abu (Rajasthan) to Vishnu Kanchi temple (Kanchipuram)  Meenakshi temple (Madurai) the  virgin deity’s ’s shrine at the cape, Goa’s  Mangueshi temple and Basilica Bom Jesus, the Ananthapadmanabhaswamy temple Trivandrum, the majestic Golden Temple (gurudwara) in Amritsar as well as  Sis Ganj Gurdwara in Delhi /NCR —I have been there and seen it all!!

I must also mention the Jagannatha temple (Puri,Odisha),  Vishwanathdham (Varansi,U.P)  Dakshineswar and Kalighat temples in and around Kolkata besides  the Kamakhya temple nestling amidst the blue hills that fringe Guwahati in Assam—all of these had me enthralled!

Thank the British Raj  for carving out the picturesque hill stations that remain crowd pullers though most of them have now lost their exotic royal sheen. Shimla remains a favourite haunt of retired bureaucrats and affluent gentry; the same goes for Musoorie the erstwhile queen of hills   as well as Darjeeling a cultural and educational hotspot (in Bengal) during the Raj era.  The lush undulating  tea gardens and last but not the least,  a glimpse of the mighty Kanchenjunga peaks  (only if you are lucky)  are bound to prove mesmerizing!

Smaller sleepy hill towns like Kasauli (HP) and Chakrata(Ukhand) are ideal for honeymooners and elderly folks who  want to have a quiet and leisurely  time by themselves.

Though separated by hundreds of miles,  Shillong (Meghalaya) and Ooty snuggling  in the  Nilgiris are my favourites too. A   must-see for ardent travellers. Their natural beauty, blended harmoniously with lakes, and verdant hill slopes provide an out- of- the- world experience!!

Thumbs up for  all those who have  the will to travel!!

400 Years on, the Bard Lives on…

Think English literature, and the first name that invariably crops up is that of Shakespeare (a.k.a Bard of Stratford on Avon) who is globally hailed as a poet, actor, and playwright all rolled into one.

23rd   April 2016, exactly 400 years ago today,  William  Shakespeare  walked into  sunset; but the volume  of rich,  varied works which he left behind has been etched  in  human memory forever.

There is an eternal, humane quality palpable in all of Shakespeare’s literary works. What was relevant and in vogue during his lifetime does not fail to move us, so many centuries later. Readers of  today still laugh at the tomfoolery of Lancelot Gobbo (Merchant of Venice), pranks of Puck (Midsummer Night’s Dream) or enjoy the light heartedness of Ariel (The Tempest). The welter of emotions that is rampant in the immortal tragedy of King Lear leaves modern readers tearful.

Moving onto the manifold women characters – cutting across the Bard’s numerous plays – who  have been  rendered immortal, it is amply evident that the female characters are empowered individuals in their own ways.  Amidst these larger- than- life women, figures Portia, (Merchant of Venice) who adroitly outsmarts the crafty, ruthless Jew thus preventing him from procuring his pound of flesh, which he was hell-bent upon. Viola (The 12^th Night) who surmounts all obstacles, in quest of her lost   sibling.  Or consider the gorgeous damsel Desdemona who frantically loves her spouse Othello the Moor, and is eventually murdered by him. The viewers are moved by the plight of Ophelia, who dies broken hearted after being spurned by Hamlet. How can one ignore Lady Macbeth – with her steely determination and seething ambition- who goads her husband to commit the heinous acts?  The epitome of filial affection, gratitude, and duty is Lear’s daughter Cordelia who remains steadfastly devoted to her parent in life and in death.  On her part the lovely, vibrant teenager Juliet sacrifices her life at the altar of love!

All said and done, the vignettes of human life depicted by the master craftsman forms a  perennial  source  of delight foe all lovers of literature.

R.A .G

A New Beginning

A memorable  experience for me…….Henceforth   I  join the  bandwagon of bloggers  who have  made hay with the  rapid proliferation and  global  ramification of Internet technology.

Here is hoping that I will be able to  do justice to  this very new and popular “IN” thing

I’ m What I am

I  have dared to be  different  all my life. Not that restrictions or social barriers were heaped on me, but somehow I could not bring myself to blindly follow the existing social norms and values. By and large, I generally chose to follow my heart rather than my head; I proudly declare that I have seldom regretted my choice.

Anything that I put down here, will be a shocker for the moral guardians of our society who try to   halt anything they don’t like and the over friendly do-gooders who park their noses in other people’s business.

Having lived on  this  planet long enough,  as  I now stand at the crossroads of 40’s and 5o’s,  I pride myself on being able to free myself of the shackles –well almost – for emerging totally free of all barriers is an uphill task

Charity begins at home goes the old adage. My unconventional  ideas took roots in my family home. While girls of my age preferred to indulge in girly pursuits e.g fashion & grooming, embroidery, culinary arts, baby sitting et al I buried myself in reading outstanding literary works-both in Bangla &English. While my entire lot of girl cousins wore their hair long- traditionally Bengalis love to maintain their crowning glory – I chose to wear my hair short. For the simple reason that I possess an exceptionally broad face and blunt feature that can be best concealed by fancy hair styling.  In high school, I wanted to opt for electrical gadgets my SUPW subject. Much to my dismay, a bossy old lady-next- door appeared on the scene.  Goodness knows how she got a wind of it (trust old maa for gossiping around) I hated the sight of her; but she went on and on- telling my parents it was deadly to let girls tinker with electric appliances that it was not lady like,  blah blah . My parents were too decent and gentle to retort.   After she was gone.  I threw a fit and finally our choice fell on Commercial Art. This time, thankfully, mom kept her mouth shut.

That summer when I graduated from school, we went on a vacation to our family home in Kolkata. There, much to my disgust, I discovered that my bevy of uncles and aunts had nearly fixed a match for me.   The chap was a medical graduate (already in practice) and a distant cousin of mine.  I flew into a rage and warned my elders not to take further steps in that direction till I finished my college. And the elders piped down a good deal.  Alliances did trickle in occasionally, but they died with  a whimper.

My sojourn in a hostel during my college years   helped me build my own perspective about life and things–devoid of parental influence. I learnt to be independent, self reliant and confident. This contrasted with the mollycoddling I was accustomed to, at home.

My academics and profession were rather uncommon, decades ago. People gaped at my choice of English &French as subjects of study, wondering why I didn’t do something that would lead to lucrative jobs.  I taught briefly at a residential school.  However, find it boring and repetitive I moved to pen–pushing.

Being thoroughly grounded in literature, my psyche was powerfully influenced by Epicureanism and  Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Both uphold the ephemeral quality of life. In addition, in  history of the world we learnt about Bohemianism;  I think I have actually imbibed certain elements of it. Not surprising therefore, I tried smoking secretly at 16, was discovered by my old man who blasted me no end. At college I had my first brush with alcohol. Subsequently as I grew older and began working I occasionally smoked and drank in public with colleagues, acquaintances and friends.In fact on one occasion I did drug with a friend of mine.   However I have never, till date, been sozzled or displayed obscene behaviour. And I have the guts to defend my actions,  unlike the so called holier- than –thou women who envy this lifestyle but are to timid to experiment.  Throwing conventions to the wind, I went ahead and tried   pork and beef – much to the horror of the ultra orthodox Hindus who worship their bovine mothers.

A few years down the line, when the question of getting hitched assumed importance, again I stood my ground. The idea of meeting grooms’ parties with a heavily laden tea tray in hand, was shot down. Where potential grooms were willing I went on blind dates cum solo interviews with them.

Last but most important,  I decided to go in for a civil marriage –to bypass the tedious, meaningless wedding rituals, which I have no faith in. Some observers were sceptical about my finding a Mr Right, who would agree to this pre-condition. Eventually it did work out. I will be forever beholden to my husband of many decades, for making it happen.

R.A.G

My Tribute to My Loved Ones

This  hot summer’s  day  in April  will be  a  milestone in  my  life.  I  had. for a long time  desired to  try my  hand at  blogging; but  somehow or the other i was never really able to get down to writing  one.

But  here  I am  finally  …….starting my  own blog;   at this  historical  moment my mind  flies  back to my loved ones whom i have  lost over the past few decades . Dad  my very dear old  man who was the pole star  of my life and was always  by my side   guiding and  protecting  me from the rough and tumble of life;

Nor can I forget my Maa who was an introvert and maintained a very  low profile … yet she was  a true karma yogi    who  lived only to look after and serve her  family  always  giving ,  demanding very little  in return.

My heart also goes out to  Milly, my soul mate,  companion and devoted friend,  who left for a better world  almost  three decades ago.  She was my  uncle’s daughter  and we were born a  couple of months apart , but  she loved me  dearly, never complained  or cribbed  when I   was nasty or mean. In  fact she never ever highlighted my flaws, was always  appreciative of my attainments   however insignificant they may be. Passionate  about music she  sang   like a nightingale. Often during my leisure hours , her ditties  continue   to  haunt me…. Her death  has created a void  in my  life that  can never  be filled.

I  must make  a special mention of Amma   my  paternal grandmother who for me was an epitome  of love  and   unbounded affection. She was  a jovial , merry soul  always  handing out snacks and  gooey goodies  to her grandchildren;  she also had bagfuls of  fairly  tales , ghost stories  not forgetting  tales from  epics and scriptures. In fact it was she who introduced  me  to the Ramayana and Mahabharata …and  I  cherish her contribution to my life  till this day.

This  is  just the tip of the iceberg.  I  promise to return with  more interesting  anecdotes  featuring  my loved ones.

R.A.G

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