TOI's idea of change is anarchist

The Times of India is (almost without doubt) one of the mightiest news publications in India has a huge marketing budget to promote the same idea to its readers. This, of course, has everything to do with the advertisment revenue that it earns from the four wheel full spread page and inappropriate placements of baby care products or food alongside captivating headlines that read like, "3 in 5 children in India are malnourished". But you know, that's all okay.

The Times of India is all about the latest in news and views of all current topics and burning issues that the youth especially like to be keyed in about. Never mind that the 18-25 age bracket know little about the depth of any issue, they must be given enough fodder everyday that energizes them enough to rant and be outraged about on Twitter and Facebook. Who wants to live in the adage of "old is gold" when it is small townish, slow, bureacratic and stuck in a time warp (as they targeted The Hindu in an ad war series last year that created much unnecessary furore) when you can wake up to The Times of India today.

The latest in their efforts to mobilize the country comes in their advertisement, 'I Lead India 2013 - I Will be the Change' where people suddenly pick up the chairs, couches and beds they were blissfully seated on and carry them while marching forward to build a collective bonfire. I, at first, thought this was an advertisement for Lori but even when they didn't throw ground nuts in the fire, it still didn't convey the message. Was the act of carrying your chair and burning it like having your cake and eating it? No. Or was it symbolism for getting off your behind and taking action rather than talking about it over tea and tweeting?

My problem is that TOI's wake up call comes at an imperfect time. The case studies of social media bringing people out in the streets of Tahrir Square, Jantar Mantar, Wall Street, India Gate are contemporary histories now. This isn't to say that they've been forgotten or that they haven't become user template guides to starting a revolution in your country. But whether it's respect to corruption in the system or rape of our women by the system and society, the revolutionary spark has come and gone.

For India, right now we're at that time of the revolution when follow up on the progress work of resolving the issue is critical. This, in fact, is the most challenging part since the onus to lead, self monitor and institutionalize the change in system against bureacratic resistance is mostly left to individual resilience. This is also the part of the revolution where groupies and social loafers are sieved out of the movement leaving the committed few to build the blocks.

Everyone can join a movement just like anyone can join a mob regardless of knowing what's really on the agenda (You could try speaking to a few of them in Gujarat). Taking to the streets and braving water bombs and tear gas shells is really the peak of the party but the actual hard work comes in the preparation to it and its cleaning up. The loud party, however, is the first critical step in taking everyone's notice to something that was paid little or serious attention to before.

But we've done that in the summer last to last year and just the winter that went by. Now is the time for the empowered individuals and bodies to continue to stand on their ground and sync their efforts towards this change.

The noise has been made TOI. So why are you still asking us to burn chairs?

A stranger in the mist

The policewoman at the airport security check scans me with her beeper and asks where I was from. I looked surprised at the question given that anyone catching a flight to Imphal goes there because of one reason only – they belong there some way or the other. I, on the other hand, am one unique tourist, foreigner and outsider who doesn’t need an inner line permit.

Boys at dusk near Loktak lake, the largest and perhaps, the most beautiful lake I've ever seen anywhere in India.

It has been 6 years since I was last here, long enough to make me feel guilty about being so distant from my roots. However, as soon as I left the premises of the airport eager to see the changes in the capital city of Manipur, I felt like I hadn’t missed much in the last half decade. Barring billboards featuring a formerly unacknowledged sporting legend, the place hadn’t changed from its local ima (run by women) markets, plentiful kirana shops and the omnipresence of armed security forces posted at different city centers.

I carry the identity of an outsider everywhere I go – whether it is in the capital of the country, which groomed me to the harsh realities of the big bad world of adulthood in 11 years or the IT capital where I moved for greener grasses and a more metropolitan culture. I, often, am asked about either the troubled insurgent political situation of my home state and my stand on AFSPA and Irom Sharmila’s struggle or the souvenir I can bring back for cultural enthrallment and the exotic locales that remain unexploited in the little state, often submerged in the singularly misleading identity of the ‘seven sisters’ or the North East. But what do I really know about my state except for the few towns and villages where different variations of my extended family and tribal community live? Home for me had only thus far been the meaningless charade of meeting relatives who spoke in an alien language and failingly attempted to familiarize me with their way of life each time I visited.

I put my foot down this time, telling my mother I was grown up enough to choose how I spend my limited paid leave. She humored my appeal to be treated like an adult and neatly sifted through the pages of Air India in-flight magazine to design an itinerary for my trip. My parents don’t exactly fit like puzzle pieces in their home state anymore despite having grown up here and having links to the community in each town and city that my dad was posted to while serving in the Indian Army. The Army takes you places, exposes you to diversity and development and mainstreams you into the great Indian aspiration of earning a 6 figure salary in a prominent metropolitan with an annual vacation abroad. This while people in Manipur still struggle with power and water supply, unprecedented curfews in the city every alternate week and the looming threat of insurgent terrorism or exploitation at the hands of those pledged to protect them, both the militant groups and the Army.

As I travelled past the old familiar towns and districts, I noticed the many billboards of the Indian Army, many of which boasted of their welfare work for the local communities. Much has been written about the inhuman atrocities committed by armed forces personnel under direct and urgent instructions to weed out militants with unparalleled power and immunity in their line of work. I sat and drank tea at an Assam Rifles base perched atop a hillock at Loktak lake, the largest freshwater lake in the entire North East, that was formerly occupied by militant forces. The hospitable commanding officer, who has extensively been part of many operations in the state, talks about the many areas his dispatch had conquered from the militants. It would have been contentious to ask about the details of these operations in my circumstances as a guest (and him knowing that I work as an online journalist) so I refrained for the better wisdom of knowing he would hardly reveal anything worth a quote.

I’ve always wondered about the diplomatic positions of people who grow up outside of their homes that are declared unfit for peace. I’ve always been somewhat in the grey about the challenges Manipur has faced, especially when AFSPA has been the most notable one in the last decade or so. Vicariously knowing the realities through close cousins and relatives at home, I’ve rarely heard of incidents relating to any harassment by armed forces personnel themselves, however.

On the other hand, an uncle’s car being “borrowed” at gunpoint by militants and people being routinely subjected to extortions when they open up a new shop or built a new house is commonplace, at least in Churachandpur district of Manipur. What I most closely and disturbingly know about is how militants disturbed the peace in my own extended family some years back when my grandfather (who is no more with us) was taken by militants and my uncle was subjected to such torture, that he hasn’t mentally recovered from it till today.

The violation and loss of those who suffered in the hands of the Army must not be dismissed away as collateral damage. But to my mind, AFSPA has been a convenient scapegoat for the Central Government to focus mainstream media’s attention away from the many inconsistencies in the system – whether it is the widespread corruption, project development lags and a dysfunctional tourism to pin point only a few in a list of problems piling up. The presence of AFSPA does make life uncertain in Manipur but its full departure will not restore the state back to its normalcy, forget glory. Not when a rising number of militant groups are all independently asking for a separate state when, much like Maoist groups, are just asking for attention to their problems long tucked away from the nation’s bigger challenges – corruption in T20 and naked mannequins, to name just a few of the gripping ones.

People in Manipur have more than accepted corruption, not just for better standards of life, but the only way to survive. A handful make it to the cream of the Government services (and are lauded to infinity), most others bribe their way into positions at district councils while a few others venture out to work in various sectors ranging from hospitality and BPO to academia, journalism and even entrepreneurship in rising metropolitans. But the degree of resilience is a lot to ask from everyone to either have the resources or assert their identity in mainstream societies. Instead, a place in a militant group aiming at a revolutionary coup, that coercively commands respect among the commoners, becomes all too lucrative a career option for the youth in the absence of a career day at school or college.

Sex, drugs and rock and roll is how Manipur's glaring issues of HIV rates, western idealism and misguided youth is often romanticized. 

AFSPA is yet another shame of an excuse by the Government to justify its lack of concern for a region that largely comes under the scheduled tribes and castes. Yet it isn’t the cause of all things wrong in the society and system today in Manipur. If anything that must be blamed, it is the Government that cares more towards maintaining its status quo authority through more than a decade than delivering any of its promises for systemic improvements. When you don’t have the necessities of water and electricity and are neglected and treated like a stranger in your own land, you will feel like shooting somebody…anybody!  

Maybe we need to start questioning the ‘divide and rule’ governance of the various sects and tribes that has been costing the people of Manipur since the ethnic conflicts in the 90’s aside from the collateral damage conducted by external forces.

A torrential hailstorm, that occurred a month back, wiped out houses and uprooted trees in many districts of the state. The losses people suffered and the status of Government compensation is not the kind of news that would interest mainstream media or Abhay Deol.  Why? Because Manipur's problems would become akin to any other state, like Bihar, when it is Indian media’s very own Congo war. 

Manipur trends only because of AFSPA because its real problems are not news worthy or social media virality. 

Disclaimer: This is an overdue post of my homecoming in Manipur (April 2013) and must warn that my analysis of the socio-political situation is still pretty much from the perspective of a native outsider looking in. 

Alien Nation

As I grow older, I’m becoming more like my father – cynical, asocial and wiser than for her own good.

This wisdom that I speak of comes in identifying the boundaries that divide us; that makes us who we are but also disassociates us, and often with an air of being better off, from each other. This, of course, is a normal part of growing up, or now as I would call it, growing old.

This natural stage of development manifests itself in more complex (read, troubled) ways through socially constructed notions of hierarchy. When you’re a minority in every crucial aspect of your identity, this is like a day-to-day challenge (read, nightmare). Surely, the ones with the wind in their hair would say that this is ultimately all in the head and if you perceived life more affably, the karmic process would favour you without fail. Except that I didn’t see differences, and in many key ways I still don’t see them as interferences, until I was shown in manners I least expected and when I was clearly not asking for them.

In my idealistic notion, I believe I represent all things diversity– in the way I speak, those I speak for, the way I dress, the TV shows I watch, the music I listen to, the friends I keep or the ones I only choose to have an occasional drink with. Yet, to most people and from their respective contexts, I’m strange / queer / exotic / different – an alien. I’m either exotic courtesy my race or place of origin; strange because I don’t conform to some (rather) fixed notions of beauty; queer because of my appetite for sexual innuendos or the number of people that I incidentally know are gay; and different for all these and other inexplicable reasons.

While a lot of people have liked me more or found these very qualities endearing, I’ve more often been (and will continue to be) derided, insulted, trivialized and (attempted to be) silenced for this very heavy baggage that I carry about. And before anyone could assume this has anything to do with people less educated, less read or any less savvy about the ongoings of the world – everyone ultimately is limited to a context and a certain environment including me. Only that I’ve always been very conscious of the limitations of my worldview yet perpetually made attempts to go beyond and only been successful to a significant extent when the effort has been just as mutual.

Unfortunate and also surprising that in many cases, it wasn’t. While I’ve never tried to offend anyone in particular, I realized a lot of what I say and write might be, in the sense that it disturbs some set views, perhaps, even occasionally attempts to invalidate contexts that came as given realities to you. Agreeing to disagree with each other and tolerating difference of opinions are much deeper in color than what may appear on the canvas. Surely, our opinion will be sound with where we come from but often don’t we let it get too convenient as well? Aren’t you scared of the latter over riding your worldview despite the feign bliss that it promises?

In my lifetime, I’ve had to deal with some very uncomfortable realities and a lot because I chose to deal with them as they came than repress or whisk it away for the fear of losing stability. Each one pushed me a little bit more out of the fairytale view that most mainstreamers grow up with and successively as a result, I became different /queer/ strange/exotic – an alien.

In a world where increasingly diversity is becoming a part of pop culture and queer is cool, don’t let up on asking even the most basic questions for your satisfaction or challenging notions that haven’t fully seeped into your thick membrane even if that is a part of the mainstream that you eat, drink and breathe. 

The Sex Wars!

The journey of growth from a boy to a tall guy than eventually coming around to becoming a man is filled with the pressure to ‘perform’ all the time. Being born into this sex, there is a sense of leadership that everyone instantly expects you to live upto whether in your family, peer group or at work.

Many men see women as having it relatively easy. They just have to conform while we have to perform. It’s quite like walking on a thin rope with your masculinity in the line, always. Because before they know that they’re going off balance, someone will either question in concern or condescension if you “have the balls” or that you probably need to “grow a pair” lest you want to be called a “pussy” ever in your life.

If you are anything like me, you go into questioning the small (many consider ‘silly’) little details of rhetorical statements like these. I, myself, as a woman and an ambivalent feminist have been employing these phrases and I really can’t be blamed coz of their widespread usage in every other language that I come to encounter or hear.

Having the balls or a pair metaphorically means much more than the biological possession of the genitilia. It connotes possessing guts, strength, courage, machismo – all positive affirmatives of masculinity and individuality.

“Being a pussy” by means of attaching a harmless and demure animal like a kitten to the female genitilia connotes cowardice and weakness that one associates with being a hapless damsel in distress.

But why such gross underestimation of the ‘vagina’ and superfluous worship of the ‘penis’? Despite being one of nature’s most interesting designs, the female vagina has been so short credited of all its beauty. The vagina protects itself from dust and dirt and is a self cleansing organ. The Penis? Nope! There are 8000 nerve endings in the clitoris, dedicated exclusively to female pleasure. The penis only has 4000. This is quite an ironical fact considering many women live their lives never finding their G spot!

Even one of the most eminent figures in Psychology, Sigmund Freud attached way too much importance to the penis in his theories accusing girls of experiencing something called “penis envy” in their psycho-sexual development. Feminist psychoanalyst, Karen Horney counter balanced Freud with her interpretative theory of men experiencing what she called the “womb envy”. The famous urban legend of ‘Vagina Dentata’ (literally means, vagina with teeth) also probably emerged as a feminist backlash to all the violence meted out by men against women like it was their birthright.

Many theorists explain the greater participation of men in physical violence by the anatomy of the penis as an overt form that looks to penetrate and conquer whereas the vagina must secure itself from intruders entering with women, thus, having a greater endurance and tolerance level. It explains how women not just conceal by clothing but hide away in their posture sitting cross legged as though anything wider would mean an open invitation of sorts. 

All these theories and the many references in pop culture are very convincing to lead many of us to believe them to be universally or scientifically true while they are just clever ways to perpetuate gender conforming beliefs. If you examine the politics in the practice of genital modification across cultures and religions, it has such a harmful impression on both genders.

While circumcision of the penis, practiced amongst Muslims and Jews, has many health advantages to it, female genital moderation is purely by cultural custom meant to reduce a woman’s sex drive and abstain them from ‘pleasure’ during intercourse. Nor is male circumcision without controversy where the claims of the reduced chances of sexually transmitted diseases (in heterosexual intercourse) and penile cancer or enhanced penile hygiene have inconclusively mixed evidence. Not to of course forget the issue of ‘consent’ in it where many are circumcised at infancy or even if at adolescence, without giving them the space to question or challenge the authority of an age old custom. Further to this, female genital mutilation (read more about FGM here) is also a form of violence perpetuated in many politically unstable countries and male circumcision is perfectly legal in every culture and country. How can men be expected to break any cultural moulds or cycles of violence when they go through rituals just as strictly without consent or challenge?

There is a lot of fuss around our genitals defining much of our lives or even whether we live, when they don’t determine our sexual orientation, social identity, food, our drive to succeed.

It is over this fuss that babies are brutally killed. It is over this fuss that many don’t find a place in the society and are shunned to live in shady sidelines. It is over this fuss that some of us can’t choose to go out for business or pleasure at certain hours or to certain places.

It is the fuss over our genitals that divide the sexes into feeling privileged and deprived in their own places, dividing them instead of uniting them to work together.

This Blog is Halabol's entry to the Men Say No Blogathon, encouraging men to take up action against the violence faced by women. 

More entries to the Blogathon can be read at www.mustbol.in/blogathon. Join further conversation on facebook.com/delhiyouth & twitter.com/mustbol


You can join the conversation for social change with Halabol on Facebook and Twitter. 

Metallica, the Meltdown in Delhi

Photo Courtesy: Zabeeh Afaque/ Hindustan Times

Writer's Note: This piece comes more than two weeks too late following the cancellation of Metallica concert in Gurgaon, Haryana (India). 

There is an uncanny resemblance between the flow of music and material goods from the hierarchy of the First World to the Third. Sarojini Nagar Market & the Western Music scene in India are two cases in point. Both sell market rejects.

Bear with me oh self proclaimed metal head (with the claim of knowing all discographies; also easily available in Wikipedia), for I have nothing against metal and certainly am a bigger junkie for shopping outside of showrooms. But it does eat away at my soul when mostly the ‘Has Beens’ of the music industry come and ‘grace’ us with their presence. When Prodigy successfully performed in Gurgaon earlier this year, I was just puzzled why a Coldplay, System of a Down or an Adele won’t play in town. Furthermore, I was bewildered by the number of “dedicated” Prodigy fans that cropped up as if they all decided to come out of the closet after all these years once the show was announced.

They say it takes 10 years for masses in India to catch up with international music acts and in another ten, once the act wears off from the contemporary scene of the Billboards and the Grammys, its time to relive their past glory in the land of ashrams, spirituality and suckers who call music by Aqua evergreen.

Now I won’t go into some fourfold analysis into why and how the concert was a success in Bangalore, known to host more and better rock acts than the NCR region ever has. For a deeper analysis on the factors that failed in Delhi, you may like to refer to Abhiroop Datta’s, a disgruntled yet hopeful fan, detailed account of the event, pre and post.

Sanya Rai Gupta, who attended the shows in both cities, said, “I felt that the Bangalore gig was way more organized, in terms of the waiting time, the crowds and the timing. Metallica played for about two hours, and there was a short gap between when they started playing and the opening bands stopped...but the crowds were pretty enthusiastic and patient.” Yet, no one can assume with confidence if the audience in Bangalore would have reacted the same, if the management had subjected them to the same debacle that Delhiites faced.  

There have been multiple observations and commentaries on the mobs and the vandalism, some sympathizing with their frustration, others delineating via dialects how they were, in fact, not from around town. Amongst all the arguments in the debate whether it was the management versus the crowd to be blamed or the Delhi against Bangalore rock culture, the words of Blogger Rahul Sarin most strongly agreed with me, when he said:

You on the other hand, dear band members, were sitting in your hotel room, comfortably. You did not have the courtesy to apologize to your fans. Your crew treated the audience like dogs by hurling abuses at them and insulting them. Had this been USA, UK or any other nation for that matter, you’d have not dare messed with the audience by way of insults. 

Given my apparent prejudice towards Delhiites, the failure of a Metallica concert turning into mob madness would have normally amused the sadist in me. However, in the spirit of justice and value for entertainment, I personally (despite my physical absence from the scene) felt ragged by the unapologetic attitude of the management, the band and the crew. Media reports claimed that the band refused to play out of concern for the safety and security of the audience. Accepted but in a better PR exercise, they should have issued a more consolatory press statement and reached out to their fans via Twitter. Lady Gaga, another visiting artist in India for the Formula 1, does not have the largest Twitter followers for no reason!

Photo Courtesy: Zabeeh Afaque/ Hindustan Times

We no longer inhabit a world where artists, celebrities or even the Government can maintain a snooty distance from the public and remain inaccessible to their fans. Thanks to Social Media, Jasmine revolution for democracy in the Middle East and rising fuel prices, voices don’t just come out in small circles but explode in the World Wide Web.

The NCR region has held many events on a much larger scale than any other metro in the country combined. The Metallica mishap came in an unfortunate series of events that is more of an isolated incident than routine and the culprits have been brought to task. True that such follies being committed in a Pandit Ravi Shankar concert or a ‘Daler Mehendi Live’ is less imaginable and a band like Metallica is but once in a lifetime opportunity. For all such reasons, the sentiments of the crowd are more understandable than the excuses made by the management.    

*All images are under the copyright ownership of Zabeeh Afaque.