How Early is Too Early?

AT THE PRESCHOOL that I run (where I also teach), there’s a certain action song we sing that goes like this:

Cook like mummy,

Yum, yum, yum, (repeat thrice)

Let’s have fun together!

Drive like daddy,

Knit like grandma,

Cough like grandpa….

…and by the time we come to “Be like teacher, Shh, shh, shh!” I’m ready to pop a vein.

Is it just me…

…OR ARE THERE other folks out there who don’t find this funny?

No, I’m not wildly outraged. And neither am I a curmudgeon whose sense of humor is permanently trekking in the Himalayas. I’m well aware that sexist ‘jokes’ exist and we’re expected to ‘lighten up’ and not bristle in annoyance at the historically derogatory undertones. But pardon me if the giggles don’t naturally burst forth. Would you buy a garment that had that label on it? What would your reaction be? Also, I can’t help wondering if it was a woman who stitched that label and whether she gave it any attention at all.

Thoughts, people?

Because, of course, you must teach us our place

TWO WEEKENDS AGO, my cousin and I had a girls’ night out and ended up watching the late night show of Rock On. After the show ended, we hailed a cab, hopped in and sang like wannabe rock stars all the way home, between squabbling about who was the hottest man in the movie. She dropped me off with a loud “Rock on!” and a wave and rode away in the same cab toward where she lives with her husband and daughters. It was 2 am. And I came home and realized I should send up a silent prayer that I was safe.

A thought on semantics

A COMMON FEATURE of most fights in India, whether they be in the public or the private domain, is the use of the phrase, “wear bangles.” Having heard it in at least five languages at last count, I have come to the conclusion that the purpose of hurling it at a man appears to be an attempt to emasculate him by labeling him weak and ineffective. It’s interesting, this line, spoken with contempt, as if the world at large is expected to know that those who wear bangles are helpless, shackled as they are by their gender.

UPDATED! The Many Faces of an Indian Feminist

EVER SINCE WE started Ultra Violet, we’ve had like-minded folks visiting us, identifying themselves as feminists, supporting the cause, sharing, questioning, and playing devil’s advocate. Which is when it occurred to me that there are so many of you out there who have a point of view but not necessarily the space to air it, who may, like the 11 of us contributing to this blog, say you’re a feminist but who in the world will hear it? Rant and they label you crazy, explain and you’re blue in the face, speak and you can see the shutters slam. But us, we’ll listen. Stand up and say it. UV wants to know your story.

Matters of Maal

a.k.a. The Day Feminism Crawled Out The Back Door

“Sahi maal hai” they said,

as they walked down the street,

breezing by me

waiting patiently for a dear friend.

Open House: History/Her story

MY FIRST BRUSH with feminist theory was at the ripe old age of 23, when, as a volunteer to a visually disabled PhD student, I read aloud portions of Black Feminist Thought and unabashedly displayed my ignorance. But way before that time of unknowing, began a journey of imbibing a belief system, questioning existing patriarchal norms and learning to negotiate for space in the world.

Education and The Single Woman

MY MOTHER IS a cost accountant. Only the third woman in all of India to get a certificate of practice when she received one, and the first in the Western India zone. She gave her last costing exam while working full time at the age of 28 and then finally deigned to marry my father, her boyfriend of nine years, who had been waiting patiently for her to complete her desired education. At the age of 24, I was done with two Master’s degrees and accepted to a Ph.D. program scheduled to start a few months after my 25^th birthday. Thrilled to gain admission to the Social Science program of the #1 School of Public Administration in the United States, I called home to share the news.

Brown Woman Saving

THE YEAR WAS 2004. I don’t quite remember what part of it, but since I don’t recall more than one layer of clothing on me, it must have been summer. India was on small-town America’s radar with Nisha Sharma appearing on Oprah, a heroine after sending her almost-husband to jail practically at the altar/mandap. And being the only Indian woman at my organization, the comparisons were spontaneous.
“Don’t go home,” my Supervisor advised, all compassion and sweetness after grinding my nose into the ground with 14-hour workdays. “They might set you on fire too.”

The Naming of the Shrew

AT THE WEDDING of a friend recently, I stood among close friends, showering the newly-married couple with marigolds and rose petals, a lump forming in my throat as I prayed for the couple’s happiness. In the midst of this sentimental moment, I heard a familiar voice declare with great satisfaction, “At last, she is Mrs. (husband’s last name).” The happy haze dissipated rather suddenly as I whirled around to catch the look of smug contentment on my friend’s husband’s face. All was well with the world, the woman had been palmed off from father to husband, and this was precisely how it should be, his smile suggested.

Taking Feminism Out of the Coffee Lounge

FEMINISTS USUALLY get bad press. Who wants to listen to a bunch of whiny women who bitch and moan even when it’s not that time of the month? And those of us who do identify with the feminist cause find ourselves defending behaviors and battling misconceptions and stereotypes because we feel the need to make it clear that “it’s not what we’re about”.

Then really, what are we about?

Under Wraps: Drawing the Curtains on Female Sexuality

THESE QUESTIONS go out to the ladies who have lived any part of their lives in India: Ever been sanitary napkin/ tampon shopping? Ever had your purchases wrapped up in a newspaper/ bag, “safe” from the eyes of the world? Now here’s my gnawing question: Why?

Menstruation is a topic that is very rarely talked about in any public space.