I am characterless

I am born and brought up in a culture that cares a lot about the character of a woman.  I have researched this for some time and i have a set of case studies to present and you may very well relate to these.

Case study 1:  Mrs Gupta, a small town Aunty to her kitty party friends - “Sharma Ji’s daughter is roaming around with some boy. He drops her to home after coaching classes. I always knew this girl is a loose character.”

Untold Truth:  Back in her 20s, Mrs. Gupta (then Miss Shalini) had a crush on a boy in her college and they used to bunk classes and watch movies in “Prithvi Theater”. The lovers knew that their families would never agree to this relationship and so this always remained an untold love story (there were no hidden cameras in those days). Years later, Miss Shalini married Mr. Prabhakar Gupta and became Mrs Gupta. Now, she is a self-proclaimed character certification officer in her neighbourhood.

Case study 2:  Mr Adarsh  is a perfect son.  He would marry a girl of her mother’s choice. He starts talking to a girl for arrange marriage. One of the questions asked by Mr. Adarsh in a personal interview for the position of wife -  “Have you ever had a boyfriend?” The honest girl replies with a “Yes”.  Mr Adarsh rejects her. He goes to his mom and says “I cannot marry this girl. She is characterless.” 

Untold Truth:  Mr. Adarsh is an NRI software engineer who earns in dollars. Back in his engineering days, he was an avid watcher of porn. He had a huge collection of adult movies and he was proud owner of a hidden porn server in his college.  So far, his profile has 3 short term relationships and a mid-term, 2 years of “casual dating” with a colleague at work. When he first got a chance to visit “
the US of A” on an onsite project, he got addicted to visiting strip clubs and found US to be a land where he could fulfil all his fantasies and attain “Niravana” through a limitless and uncontrolled execution of life. Such unbounded nature of life was a true spiritual liberation for him. But now, when he has to get married, he must marry a chaste woman, a virgin goddess, a girl with ‘samskaras’ who believes in Indian culture.  She must pass an intense character certification test for a profile as dignified and honourable as his wife.

   

Case study 3:  Mr.  RamaGunda Swamy is a self-proclaimed protector of Indian culture. He believes that the influence of western culture is a big threat to our centuries old civilization.  He, with his men often acts as parallel police and raids bars and public gardens to catch hold of lovers.  If they get hold of women who drink alcohol or wear less (in their words, provocative clothes), they act strongly by assaulting these women.  “These characterless women must be punished to protect our culture”, is their argument.

Untold Truth:   Mr RamGunda Swamy was an expert eve-teaser in his college days. In the eve-teaser’s community, his name is still taken in highest regard. He had a record of not sparing even a single girl in his college or neighbourhood back in his days.  One fine day, when his hormones settled down and he attained self-realization, he started thinking about the Indian culture that regards all women at par with mother and sister. So, he inspired the youngsters and created an army (sena) to protect this national identity. It’s a compulsion that he has to assault women for a bigger cause.

Case study 4:  Mr. Raju is very fond of expressing his opinion on social networking sites and other online public forums.  Whenever, he watches a video like Sunny Leone in Jism or Rekha in Kamasutra or some bold scene of an Indian actress, it disturbs him to the extent of causing some psychological imbalance. Immediately he expresses his opinion. “Such a characterless whore! Why does she have to defame our culture?”

Untold Truth:  Mr Raju has a genuine curiosity about women in body business. As part of his experiments and attempts to demystify this aspect of life, he has often been to women in this profession. In other words, he is often Devdas to a Paro. In fact, a significant amount of his salary is spent in these experiments. That’s why; he claims to know a characterless woman better than anyone else.

There are numerous such examples and you only have to look around to find them.  Giving character certificate to a woman is a very common practice in this country. And once a question about her character is well-raised, a comment or abuse or even sexual assault is justified by a self-proclaimed certifier.

There is a lot of anger and pain in the air due to the recent inhuman incident that has happened in Delhi.  Lot of people want death penalty for assaulters. A lot of us want them be stoned in public in a Taliban like manner.  This horrendous act is something that definitely leads us to think. But unfortunately, all this thinking is outward.  Next time, when you feel like giving character certificate to a woman, please ask yourself a question, “Am I someone of such high character, a pure soul, that I can give a character certificate to someone else?”

And if everyone is fallible like you and me, why have this business of judging the character of others? Stop this character nonsense. Because of this societal perception, a rape victim in India suffers more than anywhere else. She feels more dishonored than needed when it’s not her fault.

To hell with this hypocrisy.  I AM as CHARACTERLESS as anyone else in this world. And I am not good enough to hold myself higher than anyone in this world in terms of character.  I can only quote Kabirdas,

“Bura jo dekhan main chala, bura na milya koi,

Jo mann dekha aapna, mujh sa bura na koi”

Our Story

This poem has been written by my creative better half :)
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We met through a friend, at Animesh's house.
He was eating maggie, and I was obviously loud.

We din't talk much at that time.
But I liked his nature, and he perhaps liked mine :P

Met in more group outings, it was some time well spent.
There seemed to be some connection between us, which both of us felt.

Soon, we were looking for reasons to meet.
Asking commom friends for partying, or giving them a treat.

Slowly started, talking over phone, without specific reasons.
At times, it was sharing happiness, at others random discussions.

Friends were teasing, pulling our legs, as and when they got chance.
We didn't care much and enjoyed our friendship, or the so called romance.

We cared, we fought, we waited, we supported, wanted to be together all the
time.
We had found something precious, that we didn't bother to define.

We had something in comon, something different in choice.
But the feeling of being together, we always rejoiced.

Finally he said it, in a poem well composed.
And it still did not click me, that I was being proposed.

Sweet moments of fun together, rolled again in front of my eyes.
My answer was a certain yes, didn't even think twice.

We could not finish our meal, that we ordered for the night.
Still we paid a high tip to the waitor, for this defining moment of our
life.

It has been a special journey, since then till now.
With the blessings of our parents, we are going to exchange our vows.

Hope we'll have many more such moments, as we sail through in time.
Right now, love the feeling, that I'll be his, and he'll be mine :)

The Proposal (2009)

Anyone in love may use this poem, but should not modify, redistribute or claim ownership. The content is a sole propreitery of the author :)
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When i see the moon,
It's brighter than ever.
A voice so sweet,
pleases me like never.
I see a dream,
Can rest with forever.

When i close my eyes,
I see an image not so clear.
I try to find out what it is?
Vodka, rum or beer?

The birds come to me and say,
You are an idiot, a joker.
It's such a wonderful gift you fool,
And it happens so rare.

As i kick my brain cells harder,
It confuses me even more.
But my heart knows the answer,
And that too so sure.

It's love in my eyes,
As you can see.
All i ask now is,
Do you love me?

I am getting married !!

Once upon a time, there was a boy who was a total freak, a hardcore rationalist and an unsorted egoist. And then he met a girl who was divinely innocent, chirpy, always crafting her dreams and fantasies and still wise deep within.

They became friends and as time passed by, they felt some mutation happening to both of them . They found themselves happier than usual in each other's company. The boy proposed the girl and asked for a lifetime of togetherness. And now, they are getting married. :) Save the date ! And grace us with your presence.

Lost

The beauty of the world around,
Freedom and the nature unbound.
Serenity and the peace within,
Are Lost, in the race to Win.

Losing is a sin, a deadly crime,
So much to do in such less time
The glittering world turning me blind,
I am lost, in the illusions of mind.

All faces look the same,
No side to take in the game.
Chaos and the voices so loud,
I am lost, in a small crowd.

The craving for love and care,
Deep impressions lying everywhere;
Solving the puzzles,connecting the dots,
I am lost, in the ocean of thoughts.

From one generation to another

My grand-father had passed away when my father was only ten years old. I have grown up hearing stories of how my grand-mother raised four of her kids (two daughters younger to my father) with all the grace and dignity. She sold her jewels to purchase farms which we still possess. My father and uncle (four years elder to my father) had to travel around twenty kilometers on feet every day to their school and back. They would give tuitions, work in the farms and even make and sell paper bags to support the family. We being Brahmins, my father would conduct pooja during wedding season. They had seen depravity, poverty and hardship to the extent that sometimes they had to bother about their daily meals. It would always fill me with a sense of pride when I would hear these stories. I would ask my grand-mother and my father about all these stories. There were villains in these stories and I would hate them. There were scenes and conversations in these stories that I would like to hear again and again. All of this was no less than a Bollywood melodrama to me.


There were few interesting incidents that are my favorites. My father had to go for an interview for a job in banking services. Nationalized banks at that time were the most coveted government jobs and a doorway to good life and social status. My father (19 and still an undergraduate student) and uncle (23) had both made it in the written exam and had to go to Patna for interviews. They did not have decent attire so that they could look presentable in an interview. This was an India of late 70s or early 80s, still British enough to care for these things. So, they tried to borrow clothes from friends and relatives. Till the last moment, my father did not get a shoe. And guess what, he went for the interview in a “hawai chappal”. At 19, he looked younger than his age and the interview panel was surprised. As soon as he entered the room, the head of the panel greeted him as “Welcome my little child, why do you want to enter a job at such an early age”? He was asked about Newton’s laws of motion, sanskrit shlokas, poetry and General knowledge. There is more to the story. The results would not be out for a year or so and all hopes were tied to it. My great grandfather had sponsored the application form for this particular exam and it was a big deal. My father could not afford giving too many exams too. He went to Calcutta just to enquire about the results from Banking Service Recruitment Board office. In those days, you would read the newspaper every day for news like job result and the wait could go as long as few years. He was disappointed by some clerk in that office who falsely told him that he has not made it. With heavy heart, he came back. And after few months, when he was sitting at somebody else’s place in the village, the local postman surprised him by handing over him his appointment letter which had asked him to join only few days later. At the time of joining, the bank needed some deposit as caution money. He did not have the money and could not arrange for it till the joining date. The bank manager would not let him join quoting rules. He was saddened and sat on a bench in the bank. There was another gentleman who was sitting on the same bench and he saw him disheartened and sad. He was an officer who had got transferred to this branch and was going to take over the charge as manager replacing the previous one. He asked him to sit for another hour till he took over the role, and then called him up and completed his joining process without any caution deposit.

And this is how life changed for him - from 20 kilometer walks to motor-cycle, from old clothes to nice attire and from nights with empty stomach to gulab Jamun and rasgulla. Many witness such dramatic shifts in our lives, but sometimes it’s so overwhelming that you feel the divine grace falling upon you in a limitless way.

I have seen and observed shifts in my life as well – from trains to airplanes, from stitched clothes to branded wears and from cycle to car. I would say that one whole generation like me has seen a shift in standards of living. The protagonist in a Bollywood movie has changed from a middle class, small-town unemployed graduate who has a sick mother and a younger sister (eligible to be married) to a careless, individualistic big city boy who is confused and entangled in on and off relationships and is inventing new definitions of freedom in his ways of living.

There is no doubt that we are a wealthier generation. But are we a happier generation? I am not trying to pass a judgment here. It’s debatable. All, I am trying to say is that the relative highs and lows in our lives could pretty much be the same. Let’s look at some other examples from my story -
My village is on the bank of a river and my father learnt swimming (he would swim in wells and ponds as well) in his early childhood while I learnt it only when I grew up. He would spend hours in the river and in the farms and playing outdoor games. I spent hours watching TV and playing video games. His parties would have roasted potatoes, rice and sabji and seasonal fruits like melons straight from the farm. Mine would have Pizzas. He would tune in at a particular time to a radio, and I would play the music in my phone anytime and anywhere. He would go to the temple every day to pour milk on Shivlingam, I would meditate now and then (art of living kind of courses) to achieve some peace of mind and release my toxins.


Once I walked the ten kilometer stretch my father used to walk to his school. Till then, I used to pity him. But my view changed. It was not that bad either. It was healthy and fun walking through those green paddy fields with moist and cool soil that would massage your legs if you walk bare foot. In fact, I carve for a lot of these experiences now. Many of us do. We go on treks where we pass through the farms and the rivers and experience the relaxation that nature fills in us. To bring those experiences home, we go to the so called natural spas.


I have a lot of good things about my life as well and my father has also moved on to a Facebook age (and he loves it). But, when it comes to life and about making it happier and better, it’s not about what time or era we live in. It’s about how our inner space and the experiences within are manifesting.