Sunday, June 16, 2013

The city of hills and the sea - VII

Sound of the city

I listen to the evening azaan emanating from a distant mosque. Several vehicles scream and run past each other on the western express highway. Flights take off once in a while with heavy sound. The rains have just stopped. Once in a while vehicles run over potholes, splash the water out. I can hear the sound of those splashes. I switch off the TV, the music player, the noisy tubelight, the fan. I switch off the phone. I don’t want it to ring or vibrate. I take my slippers off and walk barefeet. I tune out all sources of sound that exist around me due to my lifestyle. Today, I wish to hear the sound of this city.
 
I am told this is India’s noisiest city. Makes me wonder what noise is. And what is it like being noisiest? As I wonder about noise, I am indulged with the idea of music. Could even silence have a sound? Before I can bring one thought to an end, the next one crowds. This city is like my mind. It can slow down, can change the conversations and the sound. But it never sleeps. Like my mind, this city is which is full of several sounds. Sounds of the love I experience from so many people and of love I hold in my heart for others. Sounds of thoughts of self and matters of life. Sounds of the trivia and of essentials. And of course the sounds of this city, I still call Bombay.
 
I close my eyes and smile to myself. I recall what a yoga instructor had told me once, “Listen to the sound of your breath. Can you, Rohit? Several thoughts will come to you but you have to come back to your breath. Gently. Feel it. Listen to it. What does it tell you?” Each time I tried hard, but was always swayed away by several other sounds in my attempt to focus on my breath.
 
I wonder if this city ever practices yoga; if it ever listens to its breath. Or does it escape silently as if either it doesn’t exist or it doesn’t matter?
 
The evening sets in. I open my window. I look down below. What if I jump? I imagine myself dead lying on the ground… in a pool of blood. My breath, soundless.
 
I hear sounds of crickets in the still, green space in front of my house, which shall soon convert into a concrete structure. I see some construction workers pass by. I deafen myself to the cacophony of the vehicles on the highway. I attempt to listen to any recognizable sounds of these men and women. I try hard but can’t hear anything. I wonder if they have a sound in this city. If everyone like them have any sound in this city? Or are they the soundless breath this city lives on?

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Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Classroom Stories IV

Casting Caste Away

 

It was late in evening, later than what our sessions lasts each Sunday. We had watched “India Untouched”, a documentary on the status of caste-based inequalities in contemporary India, in a post lunch session. The class was very quite after the movie. Well for a group of teenagers it is quite understandable if they were bored of watching such an intense movie, that scene after scene cried out just one message – India is still strong on Caste.

I asked them to take some time to think, write and share their experiences around caste. When it came to sharing, the class went silent. Again, totally understandable. It’s not easy to share our experiences around caste. One, we, at times, don’t really understand if what we experience was because of our caste. Two, if we understand we are mostly embarrassed about it. I told the class, “If you don’t want to share, its fine. We shall end today’s class here. However, remember that if we don’t stand up and speak now, I am not sure who else will. And then we all will suffer our own miseries of this issue… Let’s go home.” I started packing my bags. One of the students raised her hand and said, “bhaiya, I want to share.” I looked up and gestured her to speak on.
Some two weeks back, when I was planning my session on caste, I wasn’t very sure on the conduct of the session. I wondered – Should I play it low or hit it strong? Should it be done through a movie or an external facilitator? What all should be the content of discussion? Should I really be talking about it to a class of teenagers where I have a mix of students from the “upper caste” and “lower caste” (in quotes because I am feeling short of right words to use, and hence borrowing these words from the general usage)?
In my exploration, I kept going back to Dr. Manish Jain, my faculty for History of Education and our discussions around caste in the class. Like my students, I too was kind of ignorant about the pathos of caste before we had discussed it in his class; this despite experiencing it myself at many occasions in my own life.
It was 10:30 AM, Sunday morning, as the students started walking in, I felt a little nervous. I was going to facilitate a session on caste for the first time. I have participated in discussions on this topic with my friends, colleagues, peers and professors. But a bunch of sixteen-seventeen year olds are different people. So we finished some routines of classroom administration before they finally settled in for the session.
We started the class in similar way as Manish sir had done with us. I walked around the class with my shoes on my head and asked my students, “how does it feel?” The class was numb.
“In certain part of the rural India, there are people who still have to walk this way if they have to cross through the lanes upper caste people,” I asked again, “how does it feel?” And here we started our discussion on what is caste, explored the idea of Varna, does it all make sense, what’s its history, what work has been done, what’s the political stand on this and related ideas.
Studying caste and Ambedkar is kind of synonymous. However, the question for me was how do I introduce Ambedkar to a group of students who may have read Shivaji in detail but had very little clue on what an Ambedkar or Phule mean to Maharashtra’s and further, India’s landscape of political and social movements.
Vivek, a friend, introduced me to Bhimayana and Gardener in the Wasteland – Jotiba Phule’s struggle for Liberty. I found these picture books reader friendly and a good departure from how I have indulged in the matters of caste in the heavy readings of Sociology. I think, looking at the state of political and social apathy in India and alienation of leaders like Phules, Ambedkar and the likes from the social conscience and deposition of their ideas in the custody either the academia or the politicians who, I think is not so useful brigade of people, who have simply been claiming ownership to the knowledge base and assume no responsibility for making it accessible to the junta, these pictures books makes so much sense. All of a sudden history becomes more approachable. 
The most important question for me when I plan my lesson is – whether my students are being indoctrinated with my ideas or those presented in the material used in the classroom or are they able to dabble through various perspectives in an attempt to form their own views?
I think both the books do a fabulous job of making Ambedkar, Savitribai and Jotiba accessible to “common man and woman”.  However, I realized speaking about them in the class presents one view on caste. Despite the voice of the lower caste being unheard or misheard for many years, its still was not fair for me as a facilitator to not include the voices of the upper caste. So I had the “lower caste” representation in my content. However, what are the views of the “upper caste” people? More importantly, the leaders? For that I read through a couple of other ideas some inclusive, others totally insane. I needed a strong but a sane viewholder from the other space. That’s when I brought in Gandhi. I think, Gandhi and Ambedkar, both wanted social equality for people. However, their understanding on how caste should be dealt was very different. And what intrigued me more was how their interactions influenced Gandhi to change his understanding and further his standpoint on the subject. In that regard I happened to read “Changes in Mahatma Gandhi’s Views On Caste And Intermarriage” by Mark Lindley. I thought that would be neat to use in the class as opposing and yet evolving view point. So I created a reading material based on the text, interspersing it with some contemporary newspaper articles on atrocities against Dalits in different parts of India.
The Phules, Ambedkar and Gandhi formed the three reading groups for the book reading and presentation section of the class. Students had to read through the material in given time and present their learning through a performance that should highlight the key learnings that group had as part of their internal discussions while reading.
Later we watched ‘India Untouched’ together, post which we discussed our own experiences around caste. The discussion logically flew into a discussion around reservation, where interestingly my class stood equally divided. What I found more interesting was, some the SC students said reservation should not be there. “Bhaiya, what’s the use. The upper caste people pay money and get a SC certificate made and get the reservation. The SC people who don’t have money to pay can’t get the certificate and so can’t use the reservation. So what is the point of having it?”
The other SC student said, “but if we don’t have it, even those who could get some little benefit will also not get it.”
And the class went on to discuss the idea of merit – “reservation will make the quality of people in different positions bad. Good quality people will not get jobs”, the way people teased some of the SC students in their schools and they used to shrink in to their own zones – “they used to call me Ghati and I would simply be quiet”, why an upper caste but poor person suffer – “does he/she not need reservation?”,  why the majority of BMC cleaning staff is from Dalit community – “why certain brahmins even though they are poor will not take up a cleaning job?” and so on. Our discussions ended with government of India’s schemes for Dalits, their implementations, the laws and their course of action.
When I asked key learning from the group who had read Gardener in the Wasteland, one of the students responded, “I think, this discrimination is never going to end. It just changes its name. Sometimes it’s called caste, at other times an inheritance of money (economic class). And now its marks we score. So if I score low marks I am labelled in a certain way in the school and for all my life I remain there. Basically it doesn’t really go away.” To understand this comment, it’s important to know where my students come from. I work with a bunch of teenage students from urban slum communities of Mumbai. Most of my students went through Municipal or low fee private schools and are now pursuing their junior college (XI grade). The reading not only gave them an understanding of caste issues in the times of the Phules but helped them reflect upon their own lives, contextualize their own social positioning and dilemmas they face and word them.
The group that read Gandhi summed up their act by a question posed at us all – Gandhi, despite magnanimity of his persona, changed his views and accepted these changes in public. When are we going to do that? Why is it so hard for us?
I think it’s time we all should deliberate on this question – why is to so hard for us? Why the power that we get as part of our inheritance of caste, economic wealth, gender or whatsoever becomes as if it’s innate? Why can’t we part with such a non-achieved thing to create something that we rightfully can call our own? And to guess my own answers, I feel it’s the weak that rely on such an inheritance because they know that by virtue of their own merit they can never achieve what they has got by the virtue of their birth. And thus they create social structures that solidify, legitimize and validate their inheritance. To separate ourselves from where we come is so intricate that it becomes difficult for people to even realize that such a separation is actually possible and more so is desirable for us to create an equitable society.
The problem with the idea of social equality is that those who have the power always feel threatened that they may have to give up something and those who don’t have it always blame it on those who have it… that is if they realize their position.
Is it possible to replace the idea of power over others with power within self? And before I ask that, I think it would be important to understand “power with respect to whom?” is desirable for a more sane human existence.
One of my students narrated a situation from his class the other day, when I asked who his best friends in new college are and what do their parents do, “Bhaiya one of their father is a shoe maker, other one’s is a BMC worker.” I asked him, “why not others?”
“Others are rich, bhaiya. And they have lots of attitude. They rarely attend classes and tease me all the time.”
“What do you do when they tease you?”
“Sometimes I tease back. Sometimes I just ignore.” I can’t really narrate the expressions on his face in my limited vocabulary. But I had felt uncomfortable. What should one do in such a space, where on one side he is seen at an equal platform as others (after all he is attending the same college as the other students) on the other he suffers as an effect of his identity that appears misfit in the scheme of things?
I think these teenagers have raised some important questions; some very uncomfortable questions. I am not sure if we are still in a position to answer them, yes, even after sixty years of independence. I only hope that my students strive for and find their own answers. Amen!

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To read other Classroom Stories, visit following links:

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

No, we won’t talk sex.

Recently, a five year old was raped and almost murdered in Delhi. Just few days later we read reports of a 13 year old being gang raped in Mumbai. So what? Such things happen. It’s part of life. It’s some peoples’ destiny to be raped, abused and killed. It’s their karma. They have attracted it for themselves. How does it matter even if they were juvenile? It’s all fate. We won’t stand up for any of these. Sometimes when we get angry, we will blame the government. We will blame the police. After all they are the institutions of supermen (and women). They are supposed to take care of us.
 
But, no. We can’t let sex and sexuality education be part of Indian curriculum. Are you mad? Who needs coaching on responsible sexual behaviour? Did we not learn it on our own? So will our children. No we don’t need to talk about our own body, how to deal with peer pressure and how to cope up with if something like a rape happens. We don’t need to teach our children all that. They will learn on their own. Classrooms are holy places. We can’t pollute it with stuff as dirty as sex education. We will teach them English; that’s such an important language. But we won’t teach them how to communicate about things that may be closest to their lives. No, we won’t let a scientific enquiry into sexuality happen. Homosexuals are sick. Transgenders are errors. Sexuality is more about morality than science. We will rather teach them Newton’s third or fourth or fifth law (fuck! Were there so many??). Kamasutra is not our history; let’s just talk about Gandhi and Nehru and the likes as if they were asexual beings. We believe in an education of irrelevance. Things that would matter to our lives will not find any space in our schools or homes. May be we will need another life altogether for them. Now what’s the big deal if some of them get molested and abused in the process? These things happen anyway. In fact some children may really enjoy. Harish Iyer, a very dear friend and an activist creating awareness around Child Sexual Abuse, shared a moment. When he came out with his story of abuse, many commented – oh he too must be enjoying. He sarcastically replied, “yes! At seven years of age, I really enjoyed being raped by an old man, time and again, bleeding in there.” Ah! May be that was Harish’s karma.  But for instance, if the child was sexually violated in that age, and it was done in a nicer way, that was not-painful, did the child deserve to go through it at that age? Did the child’s natural sexual growth deserve to be hampered by an intrusion of sexual abuse? Who cares?
 
No, no! We still won’t let sex be discussed. We never spoke about it. We will never speak about it. Oh my! It’s such a bad word. Even in the country with exhilarating population. No this population is not rising due to our mad fixation with sex. It’s rising because our lord Sun and Vishnu and Sai baba and Allah and Jesus and who knows who else keep giving vardaans. This country is full of Karna and Ganesha. These people were born not out of the vagina but of random shit that our mythical ancestors did.
 
We will not talk about it even if we know that almost 52% of Indian children have a sexual abuse history. And this is only of reported cases. Since we anyways don’t talk, many cases go unreported. But how does it matter? We all get over it, don’t we? It’s so Indian to forgive and forget? After all we are the big-hearted Indians, aren’t we? Yes, we all get over it. Only to resurface as a society where a five year old is pushed in with bottles in her vagina. A country where, despite creating much furore over the Delhi bus rape case, there is still a sharp increase in the number of reported cases of rape and abuse.
 
Well, talking about sex will only make us want it more. It’s because we have suppressed our sexuality in a collective fashion, we are still not that bad. We love our children and we don’t want to embarrass ourselves by talking about it. Hmmmmm… okay. There’s something more to it. Actually… we don’t really know how to talk about it, let alone how to do it. So what’s the point of talking about something that we don’t know well? It may mislead and misguide our children, you see. And who has the time for learning all these things? There are more important things in life. Sex? Oh we all learn about it anyways.
 
We will ignore it and suppress it. We will hide and contain. Until our own child rides that bus in Delhi or goes to that Santracruz home party in Mumbai. And maybe even after that, we will still remain quiet. It’s okay if we lose our child. We won’t lose our ‘honour’. After all they say, “izzat banane me barso lag jaate hain. Lekin girane ke liye sirf ek second kafi hai.” But, children? oh we can produce more, anyways. They don’t take years, just few minutes of sex.

Image: http://blog.plazafamilia.com/should-sex-education-be-taught-in-middle-school/

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Whore

“So what kind of men do you like?”

She was quiet for a while. He wasn’t sure if she even heard his question or was thinking of an answer. Just when he was about to repeat his question, she replied, still looking outside the glass window of the restaurant, “A man with hands of a worker… a mind of a philosopher… and a smile,” she turned towards him, “ah! A smile that would speak his heart out.”
 
He laughed, “Such people exist only in books of fiction, Ashwita”.
 
“I wish you were right... I wish they existed only in fiction. At least… I would have not chased this idea any further.”
 
She looked at him with her enigmatic smile. He wore an expression of ununderstood. He was waiting to hear something more. She continued, “I have slept with one such man.”
 
For a moment he felt uncomfortable in his own body. He quickly looked around to ensure that no one from adjoining tables had heard her. He smirked and looked away, “You could have said, you have ‘met’ rather than….”
 
He paused. She asked, “Rather than what?” looking very intently at him this time.
 
“Why do you have to be so ruthlessly direct that it hurts?”
 
“I can’t help if my directness hurts you. If I don’t be direct, I will not be honest in my expression. And my dishonesty would hurt me. And, you see, I can’t save you at the expense of my own, can I?”
 
There was silence for quite some time. They both continued eating. Finally, he spoke, still looking at his plate, “So what went wrong between you two?”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“Why are you not with him?”
 
“Why should I?”
 
“Because… you liked him? Isn’t that a good reason?”
 
“That’s only a good reason to pursue my liking further to see if he likes me back, I think. Not for us to be together. There are so many other things that come in between.”
 
He felt a little unsure. She looked at him intently for quite some time. Then she asked, 
“Why are you here, Gaurav, having dinner with me?”
 
He was not prepared for this question. “Umm… because I like spending time with you?”
 
“Really? Then why are you so uncomfortable?” she smiled.
 
“I.. am.. not.. uncom…”
 
Before he could complete, she leaned forward and asked, “Why is it so hard to say that you want to sleep with me? That my breasts are attractive? That you wanna fuck me hard?”
 
She smiled and continued, “Let me not make it so difficult for you. Gaurav, you don’t like spending time with me. Because you don’t know me. You are sexually attracted towards me. That is all for now. I am not denying that you may get romantically interested in me. But that’s for later, when you know me a little more. However, I don’t see much of a possibility of that happening. If you can’t stand my directness, which is a part of who I am, what else will you be able to like me for?”
 
“Well, love is all about understanding each other… and changing… and accommodating… and living together, isn’t it?”
 
“Bullshit!” she said with a certain kind of firmness, paused and further added with a smile, “Sorry, I guess I came on too strong once again. All I mean is, I don’t believe in such ideas of love.”
 
They finished dinner as if they were eating alone. Once the check arrived, she looked at the total and took out half of the bill and placed in the checkbook.
 
“Allow me to pay for the dinner, at least,” he almost pleaded.
 
She smiled and got up. His eyes met with her navel peeping out of her blue-greenish Sari. She said, “You know what… if you had been honest with what’s on your mind… we might have been in bed already. Bye… Gaurav. Take care.” She then walked out of the restaurant.
 
He looked at her until she was gone. Once she closed the door behind her, he gasped, “Whore!”