Remind me of summer
Its long afternoons
Siestas under thin sheets
Whirling fans overhead.
Long midsummer afternoons
Remind me of childhood
Its golden sparkle
Story-tales being spun
Under leafy banyan trees.
Of dust—many feet kicking it up
As they played cricket.
Reminds me of mangoes
Their sweet, warm smell
After long heavy meals with cousins.
There was always space
For just one more.
One more mango.
One more siesta.
One more, one last story.
One more childhood.
What is that which binds me to you?
A bond so taut it cuts my fingers
You don’t hold it from your end
You don’t even acknowledge it exists.
Is it a noose around your neck that I have placed?
Do you wish to be free?
Is hope a good thing?
Why does the world spin on a tilted axis?
Why do camels walk in the rain,
While fertile lands crack with thirst?
Is hope a good thing?
Or maybe it’s my imagination
Gives me dreams to sustain
Like a crack from which a shaft of light escapes
Into that abysmal hole of loneliness
What is the difference between hope and false hope?
Is there any?
Is hope a good thing?
But what will you answer?
You, the shredder of quilted hopes
And burner of combustible desires
They flare up so fast and leave nothing but smoke behind
Polluting, suffocating, poisonous fumes.
Is hope a good thing?
But what will you answer?
“I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay
Ain’t it sad
And still there never seems to be a single penny left for me
That’s too bad
Oh, all the things I could do
If I had a little money
It’s a rich man’s world…”
Sang the pop music group, ABBA, in the 70s and in this case at least, things haven’t changed much. Money governs the economy, and our lives. Among teens, in both rural and urban areas, there is a need to earn money, as soon as possible, as quickly as possible. Everything these days, it seems, is focused on the ultimate aim of having plenty of money in life. We go through the endless rut of exams and studies, in order to get a degree. And for what? To get a job with a good starting ‘package’ and gradually increase our bank balance.
There is a Mewari proverb that says; “The river never drinks its own water. The tree never tastes its own fruit. The field never consumes its own harvest. They selflessly strive for the well-being of all those around them.” Everything in Nature gives unto itself for something else; nothing is done with a selfish intent. In our post-World War 2, materialistic, consumerist, capitalist, environmentally-destructive, and ultimately selfish society, this sentence is of no value, no significance, and meaningless. Economics says that the ultimate aim of Man is to consume or ‘allocate’ scarce resources for meeting his unlimited needs to achieve well-being. But as we strive to produce more and more, in order to consume more and more, is well-being really achieved? And can money really buy us happiness, or is another, completely different dynamic at play?
In the light of our ‘fast-growing’ economy, there are problems of inflation and exponentially increasing prices. Poverty hasn’t been eradicated, there in widespread inequality of incomes even today, the rich are getting richer and the poor become poorer. There are growing levels of stress, loneliness and increasing cases of depression. Perhaps, as many people feel, there is a need to re-think the idea of economics, and create an economy that doesn’t promote the ideas of materialism, competition and wastefulness.
Of the many alternatives proposed, one that epitomizes the core value behind the Mewari proverb is the concept of a ‘Gift Economy’. What is a gift economy, exactly? Wikipedia describes it as “a society where valuable goods and services are regularly given without any explicit agreement for immediate or future rewards”. Very simply, the idea is to give away ‘gifts’, in the form of anything – food, clothes, household items, books, information, other services – without expecting a reciprocation or a ‘charge’. In some indigenous societies, gift culture is practiced in the form of ‘potlatch’, a ceremony held on special occasions by a family that gives a feast to the community and distributes its wealth to the people gathered. The value of the gifts given away indirectly increase the family’s social stature in the community; it earns respect in the eyes of the villagers. One could argue that it isn’t completely based on ‘gifting’, since there is an expectation of return, even though it maybe intangible.
On a philosophical level, the ideal of gift culture is the complete lack of expectation of returns. Where the driving force behind the giving isn’t the need to receive, but the need to give. It operates out of love, and what certain old romantics refer to as unconditional love. But is such a drive, such an ideal, even possible? There are certain people who experimenting with the concept. Like ‘Sewa Café’, in Ahmedabad, which runs completely on the idea of gift culture. As their tagline says, ‘Living is Giving’, it is a volunteer run café that doesn’t have fixed prices on its menu. Guests can pay whatever they want, it is anonymous and you don’t pay for your own meal, you pay to ‘gift’ a meal to a future guest. And amazingly, it manages to cover its costs and even make profits! Except that the profits are more in terms of people’s love than monetary.
Inspired from this idea, Madhusudan Agrawal of Ahmedabad has started a new initiative, called the ‘Smile Store’. It is “a place for sharing, connecting and recycling. It’s a complete volunteer run gift store. There are no price tags, anyone can leave anything, anyone can take what they need and put any donation to run the store. Without any strings attached, this store is an experiment to spread trust, love and smiles.” *1
Many such small ‘karma kitchens’ and ‘free stores’ have sprouted across the length and breadth of India. But how can we implement this idea in our own lives. First of all, THINK. How often has ‘fun’ and ‘entertainment’ been link inexcusably to money? We go to ‘hang out’ at Café Coffee Day, go to watch movies and end up spending quite a lot of money. We zoom around on our scooters or go for long drives in our cars, and more money is spent. We ask for ‘treats’, and when it’s our turn give some too! Most of what we do with friends results in lighter wallets and sometimes empty ones as well! So, is there a way through which we can have fun, but which is conducive to our pockets, as well as the environment and society?
A friend of mine organizes cycle adventures on the outskirts of his city. During weekends, some people gather and head off into the wild on their bikes (pedal-driven ones!) for a day of fun, adventure and new stories to tell. How easy is that? Some years ago, I had invited some friends over and done an impromptu mural-making session on a wall outside my house. We did warli art, and the designs still look beautiful and attract people to the house! Another friend of mine was sick of constantly giving and receiving gifts in the form of material presents… most of which she never used, and to others she felt compelled to give a ‘return gift’, the pressure of which she didn’t like. She has resolved to not accept such ‘presents’ anymore, and instead, as ‘gifts’, she usually gives a service to the person concerned, like a meal she’ll cook, or clean somebody’s garden, or give a nice head massage. “It is more engaging for both the receiver as well as me, because I don’t just give a ‘thing’ that I’m obliged to; instead, I give my time, my attention and my service as a form of love to that person, and this is obviously more special.” She says. The gifts she accepts also are ones in such forms only.
Two friends of mine and I, once decided to delve into the art of cooking and help each other learn to make three new dishes in the period of three weeks. Each week, we met at one person’s home, and made the ‘special dish’, while shooting the whole process of cooking on a basic video camera. We made a snack, a main course and a dessert. They weren’t fantabulous, of course, but we relished them! (Our parents ate a little reluctantly, though). And in the process, we learnt not only the finer aspects of cooking, but also many things such as basic video-shooting and editing, improvisation (once, the electricity went and we had to cook in candlelight), making the best from what we have, working in a team, disaster management, and basic marketing skills as well (How to Make a Dish That is Terrible into Something That Looks Edible 101, and parents always needed some convincing before they would taste!). More than anything, we learnt how to have fun – differently, creativity, and without spending money and time just on consuming stuff.
And if I were to summarize what ‘gift culture’ truly means to me, I would quote a much-loved Beatles’ track that goes –
“I don’t care too much for money
‘Cause money can’t buy me love…”
What if you had one year to yourself, without the confines of school, college, exams or studies? One year to do anything you wanted. Pursue your passions. Realize your dreams. Or even do nothing! What would you do? Yes, YOU. What would YOU do?
Gap year or ‘year off’ as it is usually called, refers to taking time out between school and college, graduation and post-graduation, or even between jobs. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a complete 12 month period. It is a substantial amount of time, devoid of any routine and without the pressure of classes, studies, assignments or exams. During this time, one can do anything and everything one has ever wanted or dreamed of doing, but hasn’t found the time in the timetabled life of structured classes.
The concept of gap years began in the United Kingdom in the early 60’s and spread its way to the West, gaining increasing popularity in America as well as other countries. Currently, taking a year off is the new trend amongst high-school leavers and college graduates, who feel this time offers a much needed break from the pressures of institutional education and a space to ‘discover oneself’. Voluntary work, traveling, exploring one’s interests and passions, honing one’s skills, learning a new language, playing a sport, or even mediation are some of the activities a gap year-takers usually do. It is completely up to the individual to decide and plan his/her time. In fact, some people, burnt out by the endless cycle of exams and classes, may simply decide on a ‘doing nothing’ year.
In India, traditionally the concept of a gap year or ‘drop year’ is to study for competitive entrance exams for professional courses at prestigious colleges such as IITs or IIMs. While that is still widespread, there are an increasing amount people who are taking a break to simply explore the world and themselves, before becoming entrenched in the overwhelming demands of college or work. Like Ishan Raval, who took a year ‘ON’, as he calls it, after twelfth. Or Sagar Atre, who after completing graduation in Pharmacy, decided to spend a year in the tribal district of Gadchiroli, researching on making medicine cheaply available to the tribal people.
Sonika Gupta had a cushy job at Marico, after graduating from a prestigious college in Delhi and an MBA from symbiosis. She quit after a year and took a gap year to start the Gandhi Fellowship, a 24-month fellowship for young people to revolutionize government schools. Currently, she has left Gandhi Fellowship as well, and in another year off, is now involved with a campaign to spread the idea of taking a gap year to more young people across India.
The idea of such a campaign is not new. In the U.S., Ivy League colleges are now encouraging prospective students to take gap years to enrich their understanding of life, and gain hands-on experience and varied perspectives in their fields of learning. “We think this kind of service experience abroad will give them a very different perspective on their Princeton education,” says Princeton Provost Christopher Eisgruber. And at Harvard, they have an entire page (http://admissions.college.harvard.edu/apply/time_off/index.html) dedicated to ‘Taking Time Off’, as they call it.
According to a survey by the Harvard publication Crimson, most of the students who had taken a year off found the experience “so valuable that they would advise all Harvard students to consider it.” Closer home, experiences in a Year ‘On’ (rather than year ‘off’), have been life-altering, at best. For Ishan, it was a journey of self-discovery. In his words, “When you’re not bogged down by the expectations of being a part of the system and have enough free time, you’re bound to end up reflecting about yourself and the world. Embarking upon on a journey of self-discovery and intellectual inquiry into abstract matters of meaning in life and the nature of the self is something I got into during my break. Answers are not easy to come, but the very act of searching is an act of mental vitality that was not open while being in the system.” Most people get a new direction in life, in terms of what they want to do ahead. Some are so motivated that they leave formal education altogether and opt for learning from life. Those who go back choose fields that fit into their passions, rather than joining the rat race for a degree and job. Like Sagar, who says it was a great experience “Knowing what happens when knowledge is applied at the grassroots level, and to know I am doing something useful with my knowledge, something which is useful for me, my surrounding people, and maybe others.” Sagar is currently pursuing his passion for journalism through post-graduate studies in the University of Ohio.
There are many websites, portals and other groups supporting those who are embarking on (or want to!) gap years. Sites such as http://yearon.wordpress.com/, http://www.gap-year.com/, http://www.gapyear.com/, http://www.gapguru.com/ help in planning and designing one’s gap year. There are also support networks of people who are out of the institutional system of education, such as the Swapathgami (walk-outs) Network in India. They have a wide-ranging pool of resource people and organisations, gatherings and workshops where people from all walks of life can participate, and publications such as newsletters featuring people who have done something different from the institutionalized, mechanized system of education that we have today.
After ten to fifteen years of rigorous schooling, textual learning, and factory-like education, one year of ‘breaking free’ is not just a dream; it is something realistic, achievable and even desirable. As some champions of this cause assert, “You won’t miss a year; in fact, you’ll gain one”. So, finish all those exams, round up all the assignments and pack away those textbooks. Get those paintbrushes out, and remove the dust from your guitar. Start doing what you really like. A year’s all yours.
First of all, let me clarify that I’m a woman writing this article. Also, that I’m a feminist. And these two terms are not necessarily interchangeable.
The reason I’m writing this article today is because, since the time last year when I started taking feminism seriously and started talking about it, most men in my peer-group started being very defensive about being men. After having long arguments with practically every male friend I have, being labelled as a ‘female chauvinist’ by some (in jest, apparently!) and trying to decipher the reason behind such a strong and vehement resistance towards feminism amongst men, I have finally decided to write this article. As an assertion that we’re not here to steal the golden throne on which you men sit perched upon so proudly. We just want you to shift a little and make space for us to sit as well. Or better still, get rid of the throne and let us both sit on the floor. And celebrate being together.
Most people, I’ve realised, have a problem with the word ‘feminism’. It comes from the word femininity, which, according to many, refers only to everything women do and are; it is ‘womanliness’. But what if means more than that? It is, after all, an abstract concept, an idea symbolizing something, just as masculinity symbolizes another, diametrically opposite, idea. Traditionally, the feminine or the ‘yin’ symbolises fertility, creativity, nurturance, compassion, emotions, passivity, fluidity, empathy, tolerance, the moon and a holistic view of the world. Masculinity, on the other hand, symbolizes the ‘yang’, determination, passion, action, goal-orientation, logic, steadfastness, inflexibility, linearity, the sun and an individualistic view. Although, let me clarify that these are merely contextual representations; the concepts of masculinity and femininity can be perceived differently in different cultures, times and contexts.
The earth is feminine; receptive, compliant, has the power to create life. The rain is masculine; penetrating the earth to create new life. But the earth has masculine qualities as well; it is hard, solid and steadfast. And the rain has feminine qualities as well; it is fluid, tempestuous, nurturing as well as destructive. Just like that, all of us have within us both masculine and feminine qualities. A woman can be extremely determined and action oriented, like Rani Laxmibai, just as a man can epitomise qualities of compassion and tolerance, such as Mahatma Gandhi.
In the ancient times, both these masculine and feminine energies of the world were worshipped. Hence, during those times and even in contemporary tribal cultures which live apart from civilized society and in harmony with nature, women and men were (are) accorded equal respect and status in the social structure. However, perhaps because of the advent of monotheistic religions, the world moved on towards a reverence for the masculine (a single male God or ‘His’ Messiah), progressively eliminating the importance, and thus the appreciation, for the feminine. Subsequently, we see our society becoming increasingly masculine; goal-oriented rather than process-oriented. The pot at the end of the rainbow is always more important than the rainbow itself! We are becoming competitive, individualistic, and consumerist, while ideas such as compassion, co-operation and tolerance are disregarded—be that in areas of work or in our personal lives. They’re becoming words that are glorified, idolised and put on pedestals, but of no use ‘out in the field’, much like how society perceives and treats women!
Even today, a century since the Women’s Movement was kick-started, women are still worse off than men. Women have to deal with threats of violence and abuse, both inside as well as outside the house. They have no say in governance of the home or of the state, and whatever little they have is mostly nominal. They have no property rights, even now after so many laws and policies on joint home ownership and women’s share in heritable property. Basically, most women are not aware of their rights or not bold enough to demand them. They are conditioned to be compliant, docile and subservient. Men, on the other hand, have a sack full of privileges that patriarchy has gifted them, right from their birth.
But what fails both men and women fail to recognise is that patriarchy has also put restrictions on men, although so nicely gift-wrapped and falsely glorified that many don’t even understand they are restrictions. These limitations are basically regarding the expression of or inclination towards the feminine. In earlier times, this was controlled through religious teachings and had a framework of ‘dharma’ or morality attached to it. The worst part is, this notion of ‘masculinity as a virtue’ is so deeply rooted within us, through conditioning while growing up or the influence of mass media, that we start regarding it as natural. I remember in primary school when the sight of a boy crying made me so uncomfortable that I would have a fit of awkward giggles. Never did a girl crying leave me feeling like that. I still wonder what it was that caused this discomfort. Crying is a natural phenomenon that is triggered by pain caused to the body or mind. Everybody does it; we don’t observe male babies not crying because they are males. So obviously, it isn’t ‘unnatural’ for males to cry. Why is it, then, that society hammers this “men do not cry” ‘fact’ into our brains— be those male, female or somewhere-in-betweens?
Feminism sought to show the world that women could be ‘equal’ to men. But in that process, I feel, it asserted something that patriarchy was already doing for so long. It exalted masculinity and shunned femininity. For my mother’s generation of feminists, discarding make-up, hair and traditional women’s clothing was a sign of protest; a liberation from stereotyped notions of femininity and beauty. Today, what with ‘lipstick-feminism’ and SlutWalks, women are acknowledging that it is empowering to ‘embrace one’s femininity’… but when will men start embracing it as well, and appreciating its value? And again, is femininity only about wearing revealing clothes and lipstick? Or is it about also nurturing the values it symbolises, values that both men and women have been steadily rejecting over the years?
Hence, I think feminism isn’t only about women trying to step ‘out’ and ‘show’ men how they can do everything men do equally well, it is also about men accepting the feminine within themselves, and not being afraid to express it! That doing the work traditionally done by women, or expressing tendencies traditionally associated to women can be as empowering as women stepping out of the house in trousers to earn a living. Being able to care for one’s children, cooking, looking after the home, expressing strong emotions, showing care, compassion, empathy, sensitivity, being able to just listen to someone, are all needs that exist within every human being, but which have been denied expression by the patriarchal society for too long now. This denial and belittlement not only creates a sense of false superiority within men and women who portray strong masculine tendencies, but also puts a burden on them to follow rigid patterns of behaviour, communication and choice of work. Instead, by nurturing these feminine values and traits, not only can men (with some help from women, of course!) rein in a new kind of revolution but also develop themselves as more holistic and humane beings!
Ultimately, what we as feminists have been advocating for the last century is this freedom of choice. The choice to live, work, behave and just be according to our own potentials and dreams, rather than according to our sex, or our caste, or our religion, or our skin-colour, or any other such categorization that we have no choice in.
The earth needs rain just as the rain needs the earth. Both are interdependent. Masculinity and femininity, both abstract concepts, values and ideals, co-exist, just as men and women, imbibing both within them, co-exist. And what the world needs today is a shift towards femininity! It needs compassion, empathy, tolerance and authenticity. It needs people who can talk about their feelings, but more importantly, it needs people who can listen. It needs a sustainable, holistic, we’re-all-in-this-together approach. It needs people, both men and women, who care – for each other, for their children, and for the environment.
As the pendulum of time swings towards a masculine pull today, can the men of the world help swing it back towards a harmonious balance?
Somewhere amongst the stuff stored in our attic, there is a box full of letters. In it are all the letters my parents wrote to each other while they were ‘courting’, as my mum likes calling it. Crumbling postcards, faded blue inlands, and some lovely handmade papers filled with lines inked eons ago. They speak of emotions as faintly intense as the aroma of crumpled flowers pressed between their pages… My mother always promises me that we’ll sit together and read them, on a rainy afternoon when there’s nothing else to do. Unfortunately, although many rainy afternoons have gone by, we’ve never found one suitable for opening this
box. There’s always something else to do.
Someday, it’ll arrive. Till then, I have begun making my own little box filled with some interesting paraphernalia. A couple of pages torn out of a school note-book, written in pencil in my own squiggles. It is a letter to my parents, admonishing them for always being late to pick me up from my grandmother’s, but I’ve also added a story (an original creation) about a ‘theaf’ and a girl he kidnaps. It is especially written for them, as a token of my love. As I read it, I can feel the pang of nostalgia, remembering the evenings spent staring at the clock, waiting for the minutes to pass until I heard the sounds of my dad’s scooter coming down the lane, to take me home. Underneath is a pile of letters my mother has written to me, one for every night she was away from home. I remember the excitement of finding one each night, her friendly handwriting feeling as if she were in the room, talking to me… In those days when Windows was still 98, and the Internet and cell-phones were unknown entities, these letters would be the closest things to connection. For me, they still remain so, even after my life has become an open Facebook and the cell-phone an extension of my hand.
I love writing and receiving letters. The romance of it all! The excitement of opening a thick, long-awaited envelope… the satisfaction of writing till the very end of the page… the nervous thrill of dropping a sealed envelope in a red letter-box… “Will it or won’t it reach?” Writing a letter is like putting a part of yourself in ink and paper, folded neatly and sealed shut. It is a part that will remain encased in those words, on that paper, no matter how much you change or life changes. I wonder how many such parts of me lie in their various-sized envelopes and with whom.
Recently, a small number of us friends decided to keep in touch mainly through letters and the postal communication. I wrote a letter to one of these friends and dropped it off at the post office. Two weeks and my friend still hadn’t received it. I cursed the lethargic pace of the Indian Postal System and wondered what would’ve happened had I just sent him an email. It would have taken less than a second to reach, and we might have exchanged fifty such emails in the span of fifteen days. And here I was, waiting for my first letter to reach. But then, as another friend reminded me, how else couId I have experienced this bittersweet pain of waiting and the jubilation of finally hearing it was delivered?
We talk about how everything has become fast-paced today. Food, communication, business, even love. And yet, our 24/7 plugged-in society is experiencing a void. First of all, there is a lack – nothing is enough. From not enough sleep to not enough time to the bane of our existences, not enough money. And increasingly, not enough connection. We boast of 1000+ friends on Facebook and Twitter, and yet we feel lonely.
I’m not saying that all electronic ‘lightning-fast’ communication is bad. It has immense potential. But in my life, for my relationships to be more meaningful, I felt the need to start conversations beyond computers, the Internet and SMSes. Conversations which are heart-toheart, bilateral, and REAL. Communication that is slow, thoughtful, creative, personalized, requiring patience, and ultimately, everlasting.
The Prem-Patra Project (http://prempatraproject.wordpress.com) is a small effort to encourage people of all ages to experience the joy of letter-writing and receiving. What began as an individual project of writing at least one letter a day to someone is now a tiny movement that makes use of public spaces to generate awareness about ‘slow’ communication and create open spaces for collective letter writing. I’ve organized such ‘letter-writing parties’ in two cities and wish to do many more! I have an uncle who hates keeping any kind of paper junk in his house. My mother jokes that if you give him a card on his birthday, you’ll find it in the dustbin the next day. She, on the other hand, loves collecting every card, note or letter that anyone has ever sent her, and so do I. Somewhere down the road, it will end up in the bin anyway, my uncle says teasingly, and why leave raddi for someone else long after you’re gone? But perhaps that’s the very reason my mother, I and all the other hoarders stash away our letters! That one day, they’ll be all that’s left of us. A few lines written on crumpled sheets of paper; a signature at the end. But those who read between the lines will find us hidden amidst those words, and for that moment, we’ll be alive again.
I invite you to write and post a letter, and experience the wait for it to reach.
And do write to me at:
Old Gangapur Naka,
Nashik- 422013, Maharashtra