The Darkness Behind The Veil...

As I sat down with the morning e-newspaper on my laptop, I was greeted by a photo with a caption underneath, ‘women ISIS members in the ISIS training camps’. Behind the darkness of a black ‘Burkha’, a robe that covers the body from head to toe, and a veil to cover the head and the face, there were approximately 10-15 women in the photograph with sophisticated guns in their hands ready to plunge into the sea of ‘Jihaad’. From a netted window on the veil, these young or old women were making a life changing decision! The hands which once rocked a cradle were now getting ready to silence one!

A certain video featuring some of Bollywood’s leading ladies had struck the headlines a fortnight ago. The video spoke about women empowerment. It showed how women had a right to their body as well as their minds and no one else has the right to dictate terms on how to use them. A very powerful video, with a very powerful message, especially given the current circumstances in the country and elsewhere on the rising crimes against women! The video incidentally also said that it is the choice of the woman whether to have ‘sex’ before marriage or after marriage, in marriage or out of marriage while staying married! When the video had started to make sense, this particular section made me think of what does ‘Woman Empowerment’ mean to these ladies who feature in this video! Made by one of Bollywood’s promising directors and featuring some well off independent women does this video really show what is meant by ‘Women Empowerment’? Yes! I agree ‘Women Empowerment’ means the right to make a decision and take a decision without being questioned, yet on whether to have ‘sex’ outside marriage even while you are married, is definitely not empowerment; rather it is voyeurism in disguise! My idea of ‘Women Empowerment’ encompasses when a woman takes a decision of not letting go of her orphanage in the name of marriage; a woman deciding to go out and work as a maid inspite of an abusive drunk husband just to pay the bills; a woman deciding to realise her dream of becoming one of the world champions in boxing inspite of all the odds in life; a father deciding to make his daughter one of the world’s best shuttler in spite of his family not approving a girl child and refusing to see her face after she was born; or for that matter choosing to continue work or just enjoy marital bliss is called empowerment; having a baby and getting to choose whether to rearrange the priorities in life that is called empowerment; or a simple decision of not letting go of your food habits and personal choices just because they are different from your husbands is empowerment for me! The list goes on but somehow the idea of ‘sex outside marriage’ being a point of ‘Woman Empowerment’ does not really fit in my list.

When I finished reading ‘A Thousand Splendid Suns’ by Khalid Hosseini, one looming question kept on revolving in my mind, what would life be for an ordinary Afgan woman who had seen freedom at its best when everywhere else in the world the so called ‘weaker sex’ was still striving hard to carve a place for herself. A woman who had the freedom of decision making! Whether to pursue her studies, to choosing her life partner, an Afgan woman was envy of all! And then suddenly one fine day everything she had ever known was gone within a wink of an eye! A right forcibly taken away from her and pushing her into a world of darkness and a forbidden life of restrictions.

So when Reader’s Digest, a popular magazine in India, decided to ask its readers a question that if you had a chance for a day to switch places with someone who would you choose, my obvious choice was evident; ‘I would switch places for a day with an Afgan Woman to see what she feels about her changed times and switched places’! It was not that the she was only the rarest of the rare, given similar conditions prevailing in India where women in many parts do not enjoy any kind of rights; her only safe place was among the four walls of her house. When she left the walls of her father she entered that of her husbands’. There are women whose fates are decided by an alternative court of law, ‘The Khaps’. A group of senior male members of a village, who boast of self-attained wisdom, sitting down to decide the future course of life for the women in that village. When if found guilty the punishments range from banishment from the village boundaries to death. The whole idea of living the life of an Afgan woman was solely driven by a solitary thought, how much courage and patience does it takes to live a life of perennial penance and confinement after getting a taste of free living? A life of liberation which was incised upon brutally and taken away! 

Whether it is these ISIS women comrades or the women in the Naxal hit areas of India, the pictures of women swishing guns dangerously on the face of the innocents, forced me to rethink my idea of ‘Women Empowerment’ and the ‘Right to Choice’. Does it only mean brushing shoulders with men with similar thinking of ‘we kill if you don’t believe?’ Or does it mean giving up the role of a nurturer and instead vandalize life? Or does it simply mean getting out of the four walls of the house only to intimidate others to take your place inside? The darkness of the veil doesn't come because of the cloth that gives a feigned perception of anonymity. The darkness comes because one chooses to live in the world of ignorance. A world where if the perception on the path of righteousness doesn't match, then you lose the right to life! The whole idea of the ‘Right of Choice’and 'Women Empowerment' gets diluted when the ‘Choice’ chooses the wrong way!

‘Right to Choice’ can only come through the ‘Right of Knowledge’. And knowledge doesn't come in by getting university degrees. Knowledge comes in when you realize how critically important life is, both for you and the ones you are sneering to take away. Everybody has a right to live and a right to choose. And when you have the right to choose on anything from as simple as what to wear, to which religion to practice, what to eat, to when to go out of the house, and when to come back, empowerment is what follows. The darkness of ignorance is more sinister than the darkness of the veil because it is this lack of knowledge that preys upon us from behind the veil! This ignorance needs to be denounced and the light of knowledge needs to percolate inside. Knowledge is the only recourse that can be taken to enlighten this forbidden world of iniquity and the darkness behind the veil! 

The Glorified Diva

It is that time of the year when Indian cricket frenzy fans are glued to the television sets. Whether in the electronic stores, or on the internet, everywhere you turn you will find hordes of people glued to the television sets or the computers watching the Cricket Indian Premier League. Well I love the game of cricket, but if you ask me why I opine otherwise then my answer is that although I am a great fan of the game I detest glamorization of the already glamorized game. I hate it when I see people going hysterical over meaningless crap in the name of sports. It s not about a game, its all about money and of course not to forget the objectification of women. How many of the 'Indian Men' go to watch the IPL's without the skimpily clad women dancing to popular Bollywood numbers on their mind? I know I must be generalizing 'Indian Men' and their mentality, yet I might not be entirely wrong when I accidentally catch a glimpse of the game on my television set only to see lusting men ogling at these blond hair women. Sometimes in a classic Bollywood style I feel like asking these lecherous men 'Tere ghar main Ma, Behan, Beti nahi hai kya?' (Don't you have a mother, sister or a daughter back home) Or is it women back home have something different from these women who are busy dancing merrily to tunes they vaguely understand?!

Whatever the case, its not about these nugatory dance performances or the seemingly lecherous gaze of the men around, the point I am trying to make is that the game of Cricket has always dominated the Indian populace and will continue to do so. But in this cricket hullabaloo, we forget that there are other forms of sports which are not so blessed. There are players and athletes who do not mint money as the cricketers and the Board of Cricket Control in India does. People who also love their game yet are striving hard to make their ends meet. National and State level athletes who are in dire necessity of funds just to keep their training going. Sports associations who are cash strapped to the extent of bankruptcy. Associations who have world class players at their disposals but cannot back them due to lack of funds. Recently a State Level Boxer, Rishu Mittal, was forced to work as a domestic maid just to fund her training camps! Do we treat our esteemed players and athletes in this kind of disgraceful manner! On one hand we are paying crores of rupees in buying players for IPL and on the other hand we are forcing our acclaimed athletes into a life which is a vilification of their talent. And she is not the only example of our apathy towards our National and State sports champions who do not belong to the 'Divine game of Cricket', scores of other people from the sports fraternity are facing a similar fate while some fortunate ones from the Cricketing world have boundless money at their disposal!  

As an Indian I feel our country needs to learn a lot from the Western World and especially how to treat people who bring national honour with respect and dignity. It pains me to see an Athlete standing with a trophy in her/his hand and waiting for an Autorickshaw outside a stadium! Yes such was the scene when the Common Wealth Games were hosted in Delhi in 2010. While our cricketers swished past with their imported sedans, or flew business class, our athletes on the other hand faced such kind of step motherly behaviour from us. We fail to acknowledge that these athletes are also like the war heroes who have fought for the country's honour successfully and have helped in retaining her valor and pride. They have played their part valiantly and have made their country proud. And all they seek is some respect in return yet what we give is our indifference and unconcern. As a nation it is a disgrace for all of us.

Travel and Living- Chapter 3-A place under the sun---Greece

From a miserable, dark, grey sky to a bright yellow blue sky, this is how the city of the Gods, Athens, welcomed us. Greece had always been on my mind and landing on the land, for real, was an ethereal experience for me. The land of Alexander the great, the land of Apollo the Sun God, the land of Aphrodite the Goddess of love, beauty! A forbidden mystical world for me had suddenly become more realistic and I was in complete awe of it! Greece is a country which is made up of 7000 islands but only 300 of them are inhabited. It is a country which is patriarchal in nature. It has about 24 monasteries which are followers of Orthodox Christianity. Except for the all women monasteries, these Orthodox monasteries are forbidden for women.

Day 1: Delphi

If you love the mountains and its hair pin country roads, then you are in for a treat here. I loved everything about the journey from the hotel to the site of Delphi. The vast stretches of Olive trees, the deep plunging gorges, the array of similar looking houses on the mountain slopes, the archaeological remains of past grandeur here and there, the sound of the falling and crashing of the water from the mountain streams, the daunting mountains rising above our heads! I have been to a collection of mountainous places, but the thought of scaling the heights of Alexander the great and the like, made this place and Greece on a whole relatively more special. I am not a history buff, but you don’t have to be a history geek to appreciate the beauty of this place. Standing on the remains of the ‘Temple of Apollo’ gave me a sense of euphoria and ecstasy. A mortal among the immortals! A sanctuary in the arms of nature’s breadth taking beauty, surrounded by the tall Parnassus mountains, almost 600 ft. above sea level, with rocky bald patches and a seamless green Olive trees horizon, complete with a small stream which promises of a legendary ‘water of youth’, Delphi is definitely a place to be. And if you want to have a traditional Greek meal after the enchanting visit, then ‘Gala Delphi’, a small traditional looking yet inviting restaurant is the place.

Day 2: Thessaloniki

Our day started with an early morning flight to Thessaloniki. We were greeted by a charming Macedonian lady, Dimitra. Yes we booked a private taxi as we made this trip in a not so tourist season. Infact, tourism in Greece picks up from May onwards and continues till August. So soon we were on our way to Vergina. Set in the foothills of Mount Pieria, Vergina is the home of tombs for the Greek Kings something similar to the pyramids of the Egyptians. It is said that it contains the tomb of King Phillip II, father of Alexander the great. It is said that Alexander’s mother, Olympias wanted her son to become the emperor. It was a formidable wish which could only be realised through the death of the present king. So she conspired, the murder of the king and her husband by recruiting one of the king’s bodyguards, on the day of her daughter, Cleopatra’s wedding. The grandeur of the Greek Royalty can be seen here in the tombs turned museums. The site is located beneath the earth with a Doric style entrance. It was planned by the Greeks in a way to preserve the remains of their Kings, Queens and their descendants in order to preserve the legacy. Unlike the Egyptians where they mummified the bodies, the Ancient Greeks always cremated the bodies of their Royals. Then they used to find the remaining bones, wash them with red wine, put them inside urns and then build tombs. Even today the tradition of digging out the remains of the bodies after burial and washing them with red wine and then reburying them is a Greek tradition. Also like the Egyptians, ancient Greeks used to bury food, jewellery, and four live horses along with the bodies for service through the after live. It was fascinating to see the level of intricate décor the headboards of the bed had. From gold leaves and flowers to chryselephantine designs. The enchanting display in the museum to the engaging narration of Dimitra, this trip to Vergina was not only riveting but also enriching. The gold wreaths, the gold urns, the remains of the objects buried for afterlife, the fragments of the tapestry used, the terracotta toys, the armoury of the kings, the bewitching frescos on the façade of the tombs and the feeling and emotions of the Greek Archeologist, Manolis Andronikos, Vergina had it all, especially for my husband who is a part time history buff commonly mistaken as a history professor.

We then moved on to Pella which was the capital of the ancient Macedon. The road to Pella from Vergina is another treat for the eyes. The rising snow-capped peaks of Mount Olympus in the horizon to pink cherry blossoms on either sides of the roads, from unending stretches of Olive trees to the bright blue sky, it was a journey well made. Pella was a port in ancient times and was well connected with the Thermaic Gulf. It was the Royal residence. The level of aristocracy enthralled us with the amount of area each room covered completed with white and grey pebble mosaics depicting different themes. The Greek baths also donned this archaeological site. The Greek baths were a bit different from the Roman baths. Roman baths have a common place of bath which is a circular bath tub with everyone sitting inside communally. However, Greek baths had separate rectangular soaking areas with a small cylindrical plunging hole at the end of each for dunking in the feet. There was also an underground system for purifying drinking water in the site. With the outlet a little raised than the inlet for the sedimentations to settle down. As we headed towards the airport to catch a flight back to Athens, we caught a glimpse of the throne of Zeus in the distant horizon. An arc shaped peak amid two high rising triangles.

Day 3: Rhodes

The day started with an early morning flight to the island of Rhodes. Situated in yet another picturesque location, Rhodes is house to one of the country’s biggest butterfly parks. A small water fall cuts through the entire perimeter of the park with a wooden bridge here and there. Set in the midst of a lovely green forest, this butterfly park is swarmed with millions of butterflies in the summer months. Since we were a bit early for these tiny visitors, yet we could imagine the veracity of the flurry population that would inhabit this place in a month’s time. It is said if you come to this place with a white t-shirt on, then by the end of the day it would be a colour wash. The spectacularity of this idea made us think of a revisit to this place soon! Anyway, Rhodes is famous historically for the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the Seven Wonders of the World. A giant statue which once donned the gateway to the harbour can be seen in the museum nearby. It also houses the Palace of the Grand Master of Rhodes. ‘Rhoda’ a typical pink flower inhabits this island. Whether the Acropolis in Lindos, or the site of ancient Kamiros, the island of Rhodes is a must visit place if you want to see more of the medieval times in Greece. The walk to the Acropolis in Lindos is absolutely stunning. A bit of a trekking in the periphery of the simmering blend of the blue and sea green water of the Aegean Sea is the most fascinating experience I can remember. A view of the white walls of the houses on the fringe of the volcanic mountains commemorating with the blue sky in the horizon is enticing ad infinitum.

Day 4 and 5: Athens

There is more to Athens than the mammoth Parthenon. The lively street life, the small cafes spilled across the streets, the flea markets in every corner, the shops swarming with colourful souvenirs, stores with dangling leather bags and shoes. Everywhere you turn is life what you see. It was very unlikely given the current condition of the economy. But tourism is what is sustaining the country as a whole. So everywhere you see are people who want to make ends meet hence, genuine welcomes is what you see in their eyes. Freshly coated white walls, to decked up yachts in the harbour, I loved everything about Greece. The capital was no different. Half of the country’s population squatters this capital city with an addition of all the visiting tourists. Hence, the streets are a bit crowded. But we did not mind the crowd because we crave to see people in the place where we live. Athens has been the capital of Greece since 1834 and is surrounded by four mountains. Multinational cuisines daunt the capital city along with the traditional Greek cuisines. The change of guards in front of the Syntagma or the Parliament square is another thing to watch for. It is not very elaborate like you might find in the Buckingham Palace in London; however, the costume of the guards to the leg and foot movements is what makes this a class apart. It is said that there are approximately 400 pleats on the dresses that these guards wear. The Archaeological sites in Athens are situated quite closely, hence, a walking tour is the best way to explore the lanes and the by lanes of the city.

Day 6: Mykonos  

The island of Mykonos can be reached by a 4 hours ferry ride. It is a lovely journey to be made among the islands. Mykonos is also called as the ‘Ibiza of Greece’ given the vibrant night life, the beach front swarming with little cafes and eateries serving traditional Greek delicacies. The view of surreal sun gently disappearing in the prodigious Aegean Sea from the windmills is a feast for the eyes. One can also have a panoramic view of the town or ‘Chora’ after sunset with the lights illustrating an out of the world experience. The neighboring island of Dalos is just 2 kms away and is also a good place to visit. Mykonos is said to be the ‘Jerusalem of the Pagans’. We had rented a place here for a day to get a feel of the prominent night life in Mykonos. Set amongst the many white washed walls with blue windows, our apartment opened up to the striking view of the blue waters of the Aegean Sea with an occasional view of the white sails of a faraway yacht drifting idly in the middle of nowhere. Probably what we were savouring from the coast, it was emancipating from the sea. 

Day 7: Santorini

Even at first glance, Santorini was an island which stood apart with aloof dignity. Although the whole of Greece is marked with nonpareil beauty, yet this island eliminated an ethereal power of mesmerizing anyone. Set on top of a volcanic isle, home to the world famous 300m high Caldera cliffs that plummet into the Aegean Sea, this classic Greek white walls with a blue dome island emits more colours than meets the eyes. A bit of exploring around and you will notice the burnt orange and blood red, royal purple and butter yellow, electric green and pastel pink. Santorini’s porous volcanic soil provides a sanctuary for vineyards. It also helps in providing the island with a kaleidoscope of colourful flowers, bushes and grasses. A local bus ride from the town of Fira to the town of Oia will give you a vantage point in catching a glimpse of these wildflowers dotted landscape. The winding roads along the coastline of the Aegean Sea with stunning patches of the landscape are not only serene but also unbelievably magnetizing.   

Day 8 and 9: Crete

The last leg of our riveting Greece trip ended in the largest and the most populous Greek island of Crete. Crete is a mountainous island with numerous small islands, islets and rocks hugging the coastline. The island has a number of gorges too. But we chose to stick to the mainland Crete and its harbour, the Port of Heraklion. The climate was very typical Mediterranean type with crystal clear water and warm wind blowing into the land from the sea. Thronged with scores of eateries and shops, the harbour front is the most sought after place in the island. Very similar to Athens, the Archaeological sites in Crete are situated quite closely hence, a walking tour will suffice the need. Lastly, wrapping up the trip included a classic Greek starter of Chicken Souvlaki with Greek Yogurt followed by Grilled Chicken with baby potatoes and Greek Salad and ending the meal with a vanilla strawberry mousse with chilled ‘Raki’, an unsweetened, anise flavoured alcoholic drink thereby solemnizing the eternal trip to Greece!!!

Blame the fish!!

If there is anything more divine than God himself then it is the game of cricket in India. Do not believe a politician or a religion driven fanatic when he says India is divided because of religion. Cricket is the biggest religion in India and it does not divide the nation, rather it brings the whole country together. So as the cricket world cup took its semi-final lap and the Indian Gods of cricket took the center stage, the country waited with bated breath for the final outcome. A long day for the diaspora spread across continents. A day which would keep the Gods busier than ever leaving little room for any recreation. If someone says that believing in superstitions is a thing of the past, then he has to observe an Indian watching his team play the game of cricket. From chanting every known Vedic mantras, to letting go of nature’s call, from staking all that you love to the almighty to wearing the same t-shirt through all the matches, superstitions can have a whole new meaning to it. I remember as a young girl I used to fold little tabs of paper with a ‘Yes’ and a ‘NO’ written on it. Make a quiet prayer to the supremo and take the leap of faith; India will win or India will lose! All this stagecraft for the ultimate Holy Grail, the sacrosanct win for the country. Well patriotism had a new definition when a game of cricket was on!

Indians have always been superstitious. No wonder an otherwise purposeless vagabond rock will get a wreath of flowers if it is kept idle for too long under a Peepal tree. A whole place of worship comes up around this ‘rock’ with people flocking with little pots of milk and a basket full of flowers. Keep it longer, and a temple comes up. Give it some more time and it will be among the major attractions for the town. What is more amazing is the protest that follows if the administration tries to intervene and dislodge it. The fear of evoking the wrath of the gods with the purging of a vagabond rock is not only alarming but also amusing.

So, if a rock can arouse such intense feeling, just imagine what cricket would. Hence, when the ‘Champions’ came in to play their semi-final against the second champions, the entire exodus of Indians were glued to their television sets. Raising the expectation of the masses was the ‘Fish’s’ prediction for the Indian win. Yes, you heard it right, ‘a fish’. Can it be more bizarre than that? After all the tarot card readers, the astrologers, the ‘Bejan Daruwalas’, the neumerologists, it was now the turn of the scaly being. I was beguiled by this piece of queer news to the extent of actually falling off my chair with hysterical laughter.

So the match was played with the entire nation hanging in anticipation to every ball bowled. Anyway, no matter how many prayers were said and how many hands were joined, at the end of the day the best team won. No fish and no prayers could salvage the poor performance of the Indian team.

But in spite of the glaring reality, we Indians have an underlying consistent frame of attitude, popularly known as the ostrich attitude. We think if we stick our heads in the ground, and continue believing what we have been believing then the reality won’t change. Hence, although the team’s performance was not up to the mark yet we blamed the woman. Why? Because since Chanakyan times, men have always believed that if a man does well then it is because of his own demeanor and valor whereas if he fails to perform his duty and goes down just because he was having a bad day, then it must be a woman who is to be blamed. Whether a delayed promotion or a freak accident, an excess of ordered food in the restaurant or a failed marriage, whatever the cause but the obvious reason, ‘the woman’. How unconvincingly feeble this thought is that we blame ‘the woman’ for the poor performance of ‘her man’! She was as much shocked at the performance as any of you are. She is as much Indian as any of you are. Was she playing the game, no; was she backing the opponent, no. Then how is she responsible? I fail to understand the mind-set of a certain section of the Indian society who is so swift in passing judgments and blaming women for all that is bad! I mean she did not even ‘predict’ the victory of the Indian team in the semi-finals. In fact, the fish did, so why not blame the fish, instead!!

The Little Yellow Flower on the Window Sill

A gloomy day or a starry night I stare out through glassy eyes

I see and wonder what is the world like beyond the forbidden high

A doubt in my mind keeps popping up once in a while

Is this life good or just an illusion bright

The green meadows in the horizon call me with open arms

The cascading water of the stream sparkles with an enchanting charm

The murmur of the bees around makes a symphony of myriad sounds

The languid desultory donkey has no happiness bounds

As I see the carefree butterflies drifting in the wind

And smell the dulcet fragrance of the spring

I float into the ethereal world of exuberant felicity

Everywhere I see is serendipity and serendipity

Soon the penchant for a free life is engulfed in clouds of fear

Can I embrace the pain of wear and tear

The wind ripping me apart or the donkey munching me

The apathy of the bees or the brutality of the stream

Life is not always an incandescent halcyon

A placid river with resplendent sheen

It can slaughter dreams with a soundless shrill

Let me be a little yellow flower on the window sill