Working from home

Less than two generations ago, there was this cultural misconception in India which held that it was not becoming of a woman to work outside of home. So we can confidently say that Indian women have come a long way from confinement to kitchens to researching abroad, flying planes and traveling to space. However,  in my observation, we are slowly leaning towards another extreme of looking down upon an Indian woman if she chooses to be a homemaker, if she is not very oriented towards making a career outside. This is not very good too. A very standard remark made on such women is "What does she do anyway? Watches TV all day. She doesn't work". 

While it is true that many "housewives" are addicted to TV and devote their lives in making Ekta Kapur a multi billionaire, it is also true that many working women resort to the same source of entertainment after work. In that sense, their work has only economically empowered them but has not contributed to a major difference in personality or choice. In recent times, another added "hobby" of many young working women is to spend weekends shopping and partying (Not saying these hobbies are bad. Definitely saying they are not great achievements). If one's employment and the added income is only contributing to a multiplication of wants, is it worth being so proud of? 

Caution: I am not talking about education here. It is undoubtedly important for women to seek education and knowledge. I am only talking about the general disdain on even educated homemakers.

In my experience, I have met women who have been working for long but are very narrow minded and judgmental. I have also met women who hold liberal views and excel from home. An example of the latter category is my own mother.  She is a gold medalist in English Literature from one of the finest colleges in India. Though she worked for a while, she could not pursue teaching after her marriage for various circumstantial reasons. However, she has achieved much just from home. She is one of the best finance managers I know of. For several years, my father always gave her the same amount each month, to run the house. She could proudly make many a rainy day saving from just this, even while meeting regular expenditure. She has her own set of small investments too. She learnt Braille to make notes for the visually challenged. She learnt Sanskrit to understand our scriptures. She attended MS-Office classes when we bought our first computer. She is skilled in a variety of art (crochet, stuffed dolls, embroidery, knitting, baking), not to mention flawless cooking. She guided MA English students towards their thesis. She successfully and single handedly ran a small evening school for underprivileged children for years. She currently holds Shloka/Bhajan classes for many kids and has successfully directed several wonderful plays.  In short, she has not only always been a homemaker but also an achiever.

All I want to say is, it is possible to be great, right from home as long as one does not get conquered by Ekta Kapur. AND it is not just homemakers who are addicted to TV. It is all about personal choices. Undermining every homemaker is only immature. Yes, working in an office is one way of getting empowered but not the only way. Definitely, an employed woman can enjoy a better standard of living economically. But if her empowerment stops at just that, does she have the right to look down upon women who chose otherwise?

The Great Indian "Divide" !

I was in a welcome party at graduate school and was trying to make acquaintance with as many people as possible. Somebody introduced me to this guy and after a few words of introduction, I casually asked him if he was a native of Andhra Pradesh. Something in him suggested to me that he was a native Telugu speaker (and I was in fact, right - the boy was originally Telugu but grew up in TamilNadu). Now he was surrounded by a group of Tamilan boys and one of them smirked at my innocent question - "Dei, she is insulting you da." I asked them how my question about their friend being Telugu could have translated into an insult. The reply I got was just loud laughter.

 

The comment was probably meant to be a joke but it did not seem funny to me. It actually saddened me a lot. It is one thing to respect and love your culture but it is totally another to laugh at someone else's (even if it was supposed to be a joke). However, this is considered very normal and "cool" these days and those who do not relish it (like me) are termed as belonging to "the old world" or "stuck-up" or "preachers".

 

After a lot of thought about this, I decided that the fault was mine. I should never have even asked that question because it was not supposed to matter to me. We have enough divisions in India already without me being curious about some stranger's native place. Also, why are our hearts supposed to warm up at the sight of "our" people? This "our" in India is totally subjective - for some, it just ends with family; for some, their caste; for many, it is language; for most, it is geography. The need to identify oneself with one of caste, language, region has become so ingrained that undermining every other background is considered normal and even necessary.

 

Does this not sound illogical? Just because we speak a different word for "blah" in our language than someone else, how did we become superior? Yes, the way we wear sari is extremely unique to our state but how does that make us any greater? We still have hungry people in our so called "culture", don't we? If there was ever a justifiable reason to feel proud of one's language or culture or state, I think it is probably when that part of civilization has established equality among human beings. It is probably when that civilization does not experience starvation, unemployment, illiteracy or exploitation. Did we not forget our so-called differences fight together for our independence? (Of course, the moment we realized that freedom was imminent, we started fighting with each other again). Can we not fight together now, against problems that are beyond one's culture or language - such as hunger, at the very least? If only things that are considered "cool" are also meant for greater good !

 

I have been fortunate in this respect - exposed to several typical cultures that I sometimes feel I belong nowhere in particular or even better, everywhere. Should I call myself Telugu because I was born one or should I owe my allegiance to TamilNadu because I grew up there? Should I "convert" to being a Maharashtrian because I married one or should I pledge devotion to the USA because I earn my bread there? There is no one answer to this because every place and its culture has its own vibrant color. For example, I love Dussheras in Chennai, Ugadi/Sankranti in Telugu homes, Ganesh Chaturthi performances in Maharashtra and the spirit of Christmas/Thanksgiving in America.

 

Finally, it is also possible to make deep friendships with people who do not belong to one's "own" culture. This post is dedicated to two such friends (S and N). The Tamil Telugu divide did not matter to them. Language was not a barrier, nor was culture or upbringing. They were both born and brought up in different Indian states and did not meet until they entered college - this means their friendship was not an incidental childhood story but a conscious choice in adulthood. They have remained best friends since then and am sure, will continue to be so in future.
 

An evening with a Mystic

Last Friday evening was a wonderful experience for us. We were extremely privileged to listen to some thought-provoking words spoken by none other than Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev. S and I have been listening to him speak in numerous YouTube videos and other online resources and we were excited that we would finally be seeing Sadhguru in flesh and blood.

To start with, the day was rainy and the prospects of getting stuck on the freeway in traffic and rain loomed on us. Thankfully, the skies cleared up, so did the dense Friday traffic and we reached our venue a full hour early. However, S and I were eager to not let anything distract us during the talk so we proceeded to first fill our tummies in a nearby eatery. We then settled in seats that could give us as best view as was possible with our tickets. 'Sounds of Isha' sent beautiful reverberating music into the air. This is probably the first time I was seeing such a diverse set of people coming together to listen to an Indian man (I have only been in the US a short while now).

Sadhguru entered the auditorium with his usual poise, ease and elegance. The purpose of his whole speech, interspersed with good humor, seemed to be to plant a question in our minds - "Is human life just about eating, sleeping, reproducing and ultimately dying?". He said if that were so, it somehow does not make sense at all. After all, if we are here suffering every single day (bad bosses at work to life threatening diseases, we are fighting every minute) and having all those ups and downs with kids, family etc. and suddenly one day we abruptly leave - to what avail were all our endeavors? Even if some people may advocate that human life is indeed as illogical as that and we are born just so we could study (in some cases), earn a living, shed some tears, laugh a bit, eat a lot, reproduce and just leave, are those who do just this, happy? So, is there something called a pleasant human life? Can we make our life more meaningful and live more fully, peacefully?

All in all, those couple of hours were one of our best evenings. The little exercises that he asked us to do, the detailed observations he made us attempt - we enjoyed them all. And I must say that this was the first time I saw S giving a speaker his full attention. Right since we have known each other, it was a matter of debate between us - me asserting that listening involves not just ears and he insisting that he can still be listening but not looking at the person. When I noticed how for two hours, I did not catch S looking at anything/anyone else other than Sadhguru, I knew I had won the debate.

After the talk, S went around a bit while I stood in the corridor studying a catalog when someone gently pushed me aside, asking me to make way. I turned around and who should stand there behind me but Sadhguru! There was an American couple in conversation with him as he was approaching me. I had a clear look of him - two flashing bright eyes on a dark face with a grey beard. As he walked away, I silently managed to touch his feet.

S and I felt inexplicable joy and peace that evening and I am so happy we were able to make it. We came home, had a simple meal, talked more about it and called it a beautiful day.

Be the change... !

"Memoirs of a Geisha" - this is the book that I recently borrowed from my friend. I had earlier read similar books but from different cultures, including Indian, Middle Eastern, European etc. However, I somehow did not expect that in a country like Japan, there would be misogyny. I felt distinctly sad and at the same time angry being shown repeatedly that, throughout the world, women are second class citizens. It is perhaps the greatest irony that on the one hand, women are expected to represent the honor of a family and on the other, are themselves almost never honored. It does not seem to matter how educated or how talented or how hard working a woman is when it comes to being subservient at home. Now, let me make one point clear lest some "cultured" people should argue that being educated does not mean that one should give up seemingly mundane household work (which includes cleaning up after the so-called head of the family). I am not against cooking or cleaning the toilets and the like but I surely do not want to do it only because I am a woman. I do not want to be told that it is my primary duty because men are too elite to be bothered about it. Is this not like slavery, some thankless job?

Anyway, these daily trifles seem nothing compared to what some women, like the one in this book had to endure in life. They are sold like commodities at a tender age or married off to fiends for a price, raped and humiliated, worked like slave animals, betrayed, insulted, crushed beyond repair . I wonder how we are still alive and can wish to bring more life into this world of hate and injustice. But then, I am reminded of people like Dr. Girish Mahadev Kulkarni, who started Snehalaya, an organization that gives a new hope of life to many destitute women and children. It should be because of such selfless men and women that the earth continues to breathe today. I just realized that I have myself not made any substantially good difference to the world other than writing posts like these and fretting. So, Gandhiji really meant it when he said - "Be the change you want to see in the world".

Bird poop and other important things

So we finally bought our first car. After almost a month of gathering information (mostly done by S), requesting quotes from all Honda dealers in the area, failing twice in making a deal, we saw light at the end of the car buyer's tunnel - and in that light we saw a brand new Honda Accord which we could call "our own".  Soon, the emotions began. The moment S and I saw our sparkling blue car, we decided it should sparkle for the rest of its life, that no harm shall ever befall our beloved vehicle and that we would guard it with utmost responsibility which included parking it a little away from other cars (lest their doors should bruise our dear one, you see). We took him (the attachment prevents me from referring to the car as 'it') to the temple, prayed for his well being and thanked the Lord for giving him to us. When we brought him home, we were ecstatic to find a secluded parking spot waiting for us and wept for joy (hyperbole, of course!) about how lucky he was. In wonderful spirits, after informing family and friends about his entry into our lives, we retired for the day. 

The next day turned out to be delightfully sunny and our new car sparkled more than ever. I wanted to drive him to work. The amateur driver that I am, I was half dead with tension before we could reach office - "Will I hit something when I am turning left?" or " Oh, why is this other goddamn car moving so close to us? What if he hits my love?" or "Oh God, please dont make me hurt him with my stupid driving". Anyway, we reached office but a little late (thanks to the fact that we are very "early" risers) and could not find the best parking spot. Disappointed, we parked him wherever we could and rushed to work. However, S went downstairs during lunch time and re-parked him in a better spot (in fact one of the best because it was a wider one) and all was well with the world again. Until evening !

We came back to our sparkling new car ready to go back home from work and what else should we see but a brilliant white, unusually long streak of bird poop all over the passenger seat side !!! Now, why a stupid bird chose OUR beloved car (of a few dozens) to relieve itself of its burden and how it (yes, even though its a living thing, I call it IT !) managed to do it in that unusual fashion, splashing its waste all over like it was some wonderful paint, confounded us. We were both silent during our ride home. And then it hit me (and probably S too though I am the more vocal one).

However much one might consciously take care to do the perfect thing in life, one just cannot stop shit from happening. And when shit does happen, unnecessary attachment to things (or even people or the ego-self) only brings sorrow. There will always be somebody or something that will act in a displeasing way, that will slander one, streak poop all over one's seemingly sparkling self. This is unavoidable. Period. The best that one can probably do in that situation is exactly what S and I did after getting back home. Take a pair of clean disinfectant tissues, wipe out the shit and walk away as happier people !

P.S. Yes, it is easier said than done :)