Hairy Tales

Is long hair out of fashion? Or is it the in thing? 

I don't remember when the story of my long hair started. But I remember cutting it short. That was when I was a Class 5 student. Studied in a small school near home till 4th, the city school where I joined in class 5 opened a new world in front of me. The city girls who had their hair cut short and styled made me jealous. Mine, I felt, was too long and unattractive. 

Those days a barber used to come home to give a haircut to my father and brother. With new styles flashing in mind, I coaxed my mother to let me cut mine too. She was so fed up by my demand and gave a "yes" during the busy morning chores. Gleefully, I went and sat in front of the barber who was doubtful if I had actually got permission to cut my hair. I ascertained and gave him the go ahead. His scissors went around my head from and cropped my waist-long hair above my ears. 

In joy of my achievement, I stood in front of the mirror for hours together combing the way Indira Gandhi did - for a strange reason. My father once told me that Indira Gandhi's birth star was same as mine. (I still don't know if it's true!) I thought the tress makeover was the perfect step to become like India's iron woman! In the very thought, I held my head high. 

But the reaction my achievement evoked was something that I never expected. Friends, relatives, neighbours were all flabbergasted with my new look. Their reactions all started with - "How could you..." "Who did that.." "Why did you..." It made me feel my new style was a disaster. Little did I care for the shiny lock that was chopped and dumped. 

But my hair didn't deceive me. It was loyal and grew back to its glory in less than a year. Unmindful of elders in the family warning me against leaving it open for the "evil eyes", I displayed it with pride.

During Onam, we had swings on trees that doubled up as hair dryer too. I would swing with all vigour with my head thrown back leaving my wet hair flow down. It would be dry in no time. 

Years went by. My life changed with the cities I went on work. Change in water, air and weather took a toll on my hair. My loyal lock fought hard though it has been reduced to a faint memory of its old self. I can go for any style now by cutting it short or in layers, stealing it of its identity. My relatives or friends may not question me any more as they have accepted all other changes of mine. But I think now it's my turn to be loyal. 

Help their dreams realize

Recently, I was in bus, on way to office. A group of little kids studying in a nearby government school got in to the bus. Their uniforms showed evidences of playing out in the mud. The eldest one looked around 8 years old and the youngest one who was with a running nose looked around 5.

They perched on to all empty seats and were chattering away. Elder ones were trying to keep the younger ones under control. Some little girls sitting next to me started looking curiously at me, my bag and the book I was holding in hand. I glanced at them and smiled as they turned away shyly. 

At the next stop, a mother and two teen girls got in. The girls had their shopping bags and started taking stock of their shopped items. As they held a whole bunch of earrings and other fancy items in hand I saw the little ones’ eyes shining and mouths opening in awe. They couldn’t seem to stop gazing at those colourful earrings, chains and pendants. None of them had any fancy earring or a bangle. They kept looking at them till the bus reached the stop they had to get down.

Those little girls reminded me of myself at that age. I would look forward to Onam to get new sets of bangles, ribbons, beaded chains, earrings, bindi, etc. I would keep them all in boxes and take them out everyday and admire for long. There will be very few girls who would be beyond the lure of such things till a particular age.

These kids had their bags torn, shoes looked old and dirty, some didn’t even have slippers… All they had to compete with the rich kids were the dreams and hopes in their eyes.

I wished such a scenario unfolded in front of all those who oppose Right to Education Act. All kids have the right to dream big. Government is bound to fulfil their dreams and society too. How can one feed own child, leaving the child next door to starve and die? 

Education is the only weapon to fight poverty. For girls, it is the source of confidence and strength. Hope our decision-makers realize it.

The fear that is...

It was a calm Sunday evening. I had plans for dinner with friends at 8pm. I stay at a place that is one kilometre away from the main road. The area is not connected by buses due to road that is being dug up and filled at regular intervals for the past 6 months for God knows what! That has left the residents with the option of walking to the bus stop on main road or taking an auto for extra charge. Auto guys act as if  I  dug up the road!

 I prefer walking if the weather is suitable and if I have enough time. But for the effort I have to put in to cover your nose for the first half 300-metre stretch to escape the thick dust, I enjoy walking. Since it was a pleasant evening, I decided to walk to the bus stop. I had to catch up with friends at a restaurant that was some 4km from home. I thought of taking a bus from the main road. It was around 7.15pm and i didn't feel it was too late to walk alone.

I was dressed in jeans, T-shirt and a jacket. I had covered my nose with a hanky. Right from the first few minutes, stares started following me. Men walking from my opposite direction were almost walking into me. They expect women to give them way. I noticed this experience was not only mine, but of every other woman on the road.

Motorists rule the road with no footpath, leaving hardly any space for pedestrians. Some men on two-wheelers expect you to jump in to the open drain, going by the way they ride into you! I came across a deserted stretch where the road was taking a turn. A boy on a bicycle, must be around 20 years, sped past me from the opposite direction so close to me that I was startled. On the go, he craned his neck towards my face and passed some comment. Since I didn't know the local language well, I didn't have to brood over what he said.

I continued walking. The stretch leading to the main road was poorly-lit. There were not many people on road too, hardly any women. I had already walked for almost 15 minutes and just a 5-minute stretch was left. The experience of the previous 15 minutes instilled some strange fear in me. I was scared by any shadow I could see next to mine, any footsteps behind me and any stares in my direction...

On to the main road, it worsened. There was no streetlights at all from there on to the signal near the bus stop. With huge trees on both sides and a post-office that was shut with no light on the premises made the stretch eerier. I was almost sweating even in the evening Bangalore chill. I didn't wait to reach the signal to cross the road. I ran through the middle of the traffic and managed to reach the other side where the bus stop appeared closer.

The bus stop too was deserted and dark. I was looking suspiciously at the few men who were standing there. I got into the first bus that came and joined my friends in five minutes. When I was explaining this to my male friend, he said women are all hyping it up about stares and stuff. He said any guy would steal a glance at a woman who pass by.

"Feminists are out to criminalize anything," he added.

Getting angry with a silly eve-teaser is feminism? Expressing wish to feel safe while walking on the roads is feminism? I was puzzled.

May be he is true that my worries are unnecessary. But no woman around will deny that they too get the jitters every time they are out in the dark alone. Whether it's hype or not, women are feeling more and more unsafe. Another friend of mine, who is the mother of a 4-year-old daughter, says she is worried to leave her daughter with anyone other than her husband or parents. I'm sure many mothers are feeling the same.
How much ever you try to ward it off, the fear is back to haunt you in no time...

Happy new year!

Wish you a new year full of good health and lots of joy. Let us hope we break free from the nose strings of corruption and politics this year. Wish you a wonderful year with nothing but happiness coming your way. Joy to your heart, warmth and good fortune... So read the new year wish messages that flooded my inbox on January 1. I too wished all of them stringing the cliched words together.

It left me thinking. Is it really possible? How can we hope for a wonderful year if we refuse to see the wonderful things around us? Happiness is after all what you make with your deeds, and what your mind chooses to believe and ponder over. I believe so.

How many of us will give a seat to a physically challenged man being grateful in mind that we are so lucky to have healthy limbs to move around? How many of us will stop our vehicles to help a person who’s suffering and bleeding on the roadside, unmindful of what crime he/she has been subject to? How many of us will buy a pack of biscuits for a street kid who is eating from a garbage heap? How many will pat on the head of a stray dog which has never experienced what a loving stroke is? How many of us will keep a vow to fight corruption even when an official demands bribe in the most emergency situation? How many of us will stop saying that nothing is going to change here? How many of us will seriously act than reading and just reacting with words?

Let’s us give ourselves some hope and some courage to act. Happiness will make its way to our lives everyday, every year... Let’s give ourselves a chance to be happy :)

Lynch the rapists

Now, what? The girl who fought the trauma inflicted on by rapists for 12 days finally gave up her battle. The government, giving in to compulsions from its people, may frame some more laws and wait for the Parliament's approval in the next session! Our daughters, sisters and mothers will keep falling victim to carnal desires of men. Some of the cases may reach the society through the media, some may not.

All at the helm of affairs, listen up. If you can't do anything, hand over the rapists to the mob. Let them be lynched, especially the minor fu&*#r. With what values is he growing up? What does he have to give to the society? None of them have any right to live in this society where they proved themselves be the last word of brutality.

We want a nation where police officers are not puppets at the hands of politicians. We want bold officers who are daring enough to come to the help of any sexual assault survivor and file a case without giving in to compulsions from higher offices. We want at least one politician who is daring enough to work for the nation, not for his family and the party bosses who made him a minister. We want a daring judiciary which can send a shiver down the spine of all who have any criminal intentions.

And, most important, bobbitise all rapists. Inhuman beings anyway don't need human organs.

Nirbhaya, you have left us finally. But the fire you have left behind is not going to leave us soon. Till this nation is free of atrocities against women... Hope your struggle pays off so that all women in our country remember you for ever... RIP.

Girls, time to wake up the Durga within you

It's been 12 days since Nirbhaya's (as media christened her) has been battling for life after the ghastly sexual assault on her by a gang of beastly men in the national capital.

Even as protests rage across the country to bring a stop to such crimes on women, the spurt in rape cases being reported from all over should put authorities to shame. All protests, debates on safety for women, dos and don'ts will be printed and broadcast for some time now. After that, things will be back to square one for us.

No police or government or activists will be available on call in the hour of our distress. Also, it will be impractical to expect police to guard women in all buses, workplaces, railway stations, every compartment in trains, all lanes and bylanes and even houses. For, danger lurks in every nook and corner for women. Those who ridicule the idea of imparting martial arts to girls as government's idea of washing its hands of responsibility should understand this.

All girls out there, your safety is in your hands first. Be alert always. Never regret even if you have to kill a rapist, for you would be saving many other girls. Don't be like Seeta devi who is a silent sufferer, but wake up the Durga or Kannaki from within you. Above all, when it comes to your safety, take your parents' words. For, no one else will be concerned about your safety as much as they are.

All mothers out there, tell your daughter not to be scared of anyone, not to be ashamed if she becomes victim of a sexual assault... Tell her, "I will be there for you". It will pass immense courage through your daughter's veins.

All dads and brothers, pass on the valour of a man to your daughters and little sisters. Treat them as any of you at home so that they will be bold enough to take on the evil hands stretching out to them.

And Nirbhaya, it hurts to know about the immense pain you endured to bring all these to fore again. I really wish your trauma doesn't go in vain and that something solid comes out of it for our mothers and sisters. Only offer we can make for you now is our heartfelt prayers. Lakhs of hearts are chanting the same, lakhs of pairs of eyes are shedding a tear or two for you and lakhs of invisible hands are blessing you from unknown corners... Come back, Nirbhaya, come back like a Phoenix. 

A moment for the farmers

Just two days ago I happened to see a man pushing a cart full of tomatoes, calling out “Rs 20 for 2 kg”. In a hot afternoon, he was sweating and struggling to push the loaded cart forward. He looked as if he hadn’t eaten since morning.

Dressed in shabby clothes, torn in many places, all dirty and feet covered with mud, he would gain more sympathy than even a beggar on the street. His chappals too were broken and he was struggling to drag them along.

He was stopped by some buyers who demanded him give two-and-a-half kg for Rs 20. The other day when I bought 250gm of tomato, I got five big ones. Going by that 2kg would have 40 tomatoes. He was getting just 50 paise per tomato! Also 40 tomatoes would mean at least 3 plants which would have taken nurturing for months to be full grown and fruit bearing.

I hope many like me would wonder how farmers live considering they have to live with this money till they harvest the next time. Plants won’t give ripe fruits in a day or two. It needs toiling for months that too with favourable weather and rain.

People who bargain with them may have their reasons… cost of living, children’s education, ever rising prices… But I request you to spare a thought for the farming community to whom we should be ever grateful. Without them we wouldn’t be eating. Many of us wouldn’t dare live a single day of their lives. Those who know that parting an extra Rs 5 wouldn’t affect your life, please don’t bargain with farmers for their produce. You will be ignoring their sweat and depriving them of a meal, may be.