Chetan Bhagat - his sanctimonius post, his veiled misogyny, and my response.

Chetan Bhagat, of Indian literature fame, has recently written a blogpost entitled, "Five Things Women Need to Change About Themselves". (Incidentally I found out from one of the comments below that the Times of India also picked up this blog and printed it on the 10th of March, 2013). I really shouldn't care, and a part of me agrees with some of my friends who have said that we, of the more discerning taste, really shouldn't pay him any attention. But, he gets attention. He is just exceptional at PR. He found a void in the world of English literature in India and worked on filling it, got himself a voice and is now using that voice to its greatest potential. He has some hold over the Indian youth, who voraciously read every single one of his books and claim to be a part of the following that he has garnered. That's the problem. The most devastating thing to me though is that by all accounts women make up a significant part of this group.

So, even though I don't have a voice, I as a member of  "women kind" will air my grievances about Bhagat's post.

In Bhagat's defense he did start off by writing a cursory paragraph telling men how to treat women, except at one point he says, "... we as Indian men, have a long way to go before our women can be proud of us." Our? Okay, I may be nitpicking here, and so I'll let this one go and not try to explain to him how misogynistic his perception that Indian men have some sort of proprietary right over Indian women is. Anyway, I digress. I now submit the following responses to each of Bhagat's 5 recommendations to women.

1.  According to you, Mr. Bhagat, the first behaviour that needs to end, is that of women judging other women.  Do you really think that only women are judging other women on the basis of superficial characteristics? How many times have we seen in Bollywood movies that the actress who weighs 5 pounds heavier and/or has dark skin and/or has short hair is playing the role of the lovable nitwit best friend? How many times have we, Indian women, been ridiculed for being too skinny, too fat, too dark, too round-faced, too flat-nosed by our family members, in many cases our own mothers?  Well educated men in every part of India will turn down marriages/proposals simply on the basis that the girl is too dark. So, let's not kid ourselves by pretending that women are victimizing other women, EVERYONE is victimizing women on the basis of appearance. To be fair this is not just endemic to India (although the problem is more severe and in-your-face in India) but women are judged by everyone else (including other women) for their outward appearance everywhere in the world.

2. Apparently women are too "fake" - Mr. Bhagat, in this day and age we all are. Everyone needs to be fake, lie through their teeth, and pretend to laugh at funny jokes their boss makes in order to get ahead in the world. If you aren't fake, you won't get ahead. It's as simple as that. If everyone would say exactly what they were thinking, at exactly that time, then we all would be abrasive jerks. And we all hate abrasive jerks, so we can't be that.  I'll forgive you for this one though, because you've been a famous author for so long now, that you may have forgotten how the real world works.

3. Women need to stand up for their property rights - I agree with you on this. However, you fail to understand that most Indian women inherently place family and community at a higher level than wealth and property. If she is to choose between not losing the relationship with her father or brother, and gaining equal rights to paternal property she would much rather give up the latter. Its not about selflessness, its about value. And in India where property squabbles take years and decades of family feuding and wasting away in the courts system - a woman has much better and far more important things to take care of. I would think that it is preferable to change the system from the other side, where a father would never question the equal right his daughter has to his property, and where a brother would never even place his right to land higher than his sister's. Why not start with changing the male chauvinism when it comes to property rights? It's been a long time since 1828 when Raja Rammohan Roy demanded equal property rights for women. Why is it taking SO LONG?

4. Women need to have ambition and a fire in their belly? - Really now? I mean, I can quite proudly say that I am one of those who have overcome a lot of adversity to get where I am today, but never for a moment will I ever dare to be so sanctimonious as to suggest that women who can't, don't have ambition. What is Malala supposed to do? Learn from the internet or walk to the border? And, you Mr. Bhagat who have spent absolutely no time as a woman, let alone an Indian woman, are going to come out and teach women about ambition? What do you know about what it takes to claw your way out of systemic misogyny and paternalism? Secondly, your suggestion that, only when Indian women will achieve a certain level of success will they be able to command the respect of men, is so far out there that I don't even know where to start. How about teaching men how to respect women irrespective of a random definition of success? I really do wish that you would have better outlined what your definition of success is, because then, I would have demanded an answer to the question, "why can't a woman's success be defined by raising brilliant, respectful, and well rounded children?" 

5. Last but not the least you bring up some convoluted argument about self worth and relationships. You begin by saying, "Being a good mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend and lover are extremely important." Umm why? When was the last time you heard a man being defined by the relationship he has with other women? When is a man defined as a "father, husband, son and brother"? And then you go on to speak about sacrifice and how a woman must be selfish. Has it been so long that you have worked in the real world Mr. Bhagat? You must be too busy writing your books to notice that women in India are still today being victimized for being selfish. Women get their shit beaten out of them (pardon my french) for wanting to have a career and be a loving wife and mother. Have you ever seen how women are labelled if they are single and career oriented? They are then too strong willed to find a husband. A strong-willed woman at work is labelled a "Bitch" because she knows how to assert herself. If she's not a "bitch" and wants to go home to be a mother and cook dinner for her kids, then she is too complacent to "really want it". Don't you get the feeling that a woman can never do anything right?

Mr. Bhagat the overarching problems of misogyny that I have tried to condense into a rant and outline above are not specific to India at all. Us, women deal with these problems everyday everywhere (definitely more in India though - cloaked in that ugly facade of tradition). The real answer to the problem is here: we need to work towards making society more open and welcoming to women and more conducive to a woman's idea of a balanced life. You see, women would rather not give up the traits that make us who we are. We would rather have both - a career and a family. We would like to be assertive without being labelled a "bitch". We would like to be able to choose whether or not to have children depending on who we are as individual persons. We would like to be able to be comfortable in our skin. We would like to be able to have the option of not sacrificing our relationships with our brothers to stand up for our equal right to property. We would like to be able to exercise our simple right to choose.

So the next time you try to change women, Mr. Bhagat, look in the mirror at your own "kind". Try to understand why it is that men are the ones who are always standing in the way - why it is that the brothers don't understand their sisters, why the fathers don't value their daughters, and why the husbands don't support their wives. Because, when we fix the problem in one generation, when a son watches his father respect his mother, he will learn to respect his sister, wife and daughter too.

I end by acknowledging my awesome brother, and my amazing husband. Life would be a load of crap without their respect, support and love. Oh, and to all the women: all the phenomenal, wonderful, and strong women, Respect.

Iqbal Masih and Malala Yousafzai - Pakistan's hope.

Iqbal Masih, a child labourer spoke out against abuses that were committed against him and his peers in a factory in Pakistan. His mother sold him off into child labour at the age of 4 to pay off a $12 debt. He was quickly put to good use in a carpet factory - for his small hands were swift in the loom and his tiny fingers made tight, intricate knots which in turn wove beautiful carpets. Iqbal and his friends were fed little food, since it was against the master's interest to let them grow bigger - their hands would not remain so small. After a few failed attempts  Iqbal was able to run away at the age of 10 from his bonded servitude and join the Pakistan Bonded Labour Liberation Front. He made impassioned speeches about child labour around the world and helped numerous kids flee their lives of servitude. After his trip to America and Sweden, Iqbal returned to Pakistan where he was shot dead at the age of 13.

Malala Yousafzai, born to an educational activist father who runs a school in Pakistan was named after a Pashto warrior woman who is also known as the Afghani Joan of Arc. She definitely lives up to the courage of her namesake by speaking out against the voices of suppression and those who dare to take away her right to education. She is egged on by her father who by all reports loves and encourages his daughter's spunk and thirst for knowledge. She wants to be a politician and have her own political party so she can vocalize the need for education from a public platform in all four provinces in Pakistan. She vehemently claims that which is her right - education. She wants to give a voice to those who are denied one. She is the face of the people in Pakistan who yearn for the fresh air of progress and the light of education.

Iqbal and Malala represent the spirit which refuses to be suppressed. They are the ones who dare to speak out against the denial of their rights, they are the ones who dare to challenge the norm, the slipping further into the abyss of darkness. They dare to dream of a brighter future when they will see an end to all the injustices which plague them, their nation and the children of their motherland. This is why they need to be silenced. Because, to allow those dreams to fester would mean an end to the darkness in which the Taliban live and their ideas and views thrive. They are silenced because those cowards are afraid of being challenged by children - by their innocent, fearless, and vociferous rebellion.

Iqbal died in 1995 - his voice was silenced but not forgotten. Malala came along in 1998 and now fights for her life. Their spirit lives on through children who dare to dream and have the courage to question - that will never be snuffed out. Pakistanis must come together to stop those who aim to trample on them. Silence those voices of darkness and decline - come together and give Malala a voice while she fights for hers.

Forget the "Other" to know your Own.

I woke up on Sunday morning to a furious rage - my heart sank to the pit of my stomach as I watched the tragedy unfold on CNN. Even though I am not religious, I can understand a person's need to find religion, to find peace with something that is untouched by the world, its ugliness, immorality and instability. I can understand a Diaspora's need to find culture and a sense of their home at a place of worship - the need to find refuge in the confines of the known and the familiar. So, answer this - how does a soldier who was dishonorably discharged from the army who was known to be a skinhead  legally buy a semi automatic pistol in your country? How does a man purchase military issued bullet proof attire, 4 different guns and 600 rounds of ammunition on a website in your country and not get flagged? But then, this isn't about gun control or access to firearms. I digress. I'm not one to trample on one's right to bear arms.

Let's get this straight - the shooting at the Gurdwara on Sunday, wasn't a case of "mistaken identity", and no it can't be remedied by educating Americans about Sikhs, why they wear turbans and when their faith started. This is a case of orientalism, racism, xenophobia, white supremacy and a general lack of awareness, culture and open-mindedness.

The fact of the matter is if you're going to continue to open your doors to people from other countries, you should be changing your societal rubric from a melting pot to a salad bowl. If you force your own culture onto those who are new, your people will not  learn to appreciate the foreign, learn from them and about them - you have to open your minds, you have to welcome the new, and accept the other with an open heart and mind.

When the rhetoric is choke-full of hate for "immigrants" it will only fuel the fire that is in the mind of crazy, deranged people like the shooter - especially when the country doesn't know how to take care of mental disease effectively.

When your politicians sit in office and speak into microphones about "terror babies" and "anchor babies", about "immigrants taking jobs away from Americans" you create the problem.

When you talk about "American Values" and "American Customs" And "America the Land of the Free", as if America's values are the only ethical and moral ones and no other country in the world has freedom or democracy - you do a great disservice to your people - because you consciously or subconsciously appeal to those Americans who think that America is only for the visible majority of Christian faith.

There exists in your America a palpable fear and distrust of people who look different, speak a different language, go to a different house of worship instead of a church. If America were so inclusive how come CNN, the go to source for news (for the sane) in America does not have a single person of Indian origin who was able to clear the facts about Sikhs (this I'm assuming, because CNN"s initial coverage was probably the most uneducated reporting I have ever seen in North America). When Sikhs woke up to a horrific nightmare which reminded them of a past that they dare not dredge up how come they had to sit through that appalling thing they call "coverage"? How come - what I would assume to be - hundreds and thousands of Indians stared in disbelief at the TV set when they repeatedly mixed up Hindus and Sikhs or just took the safe route and called them "Hindu Sikhs",  and kept calling the Gurdwara a "church"? How come they repeatedly insinuated that perhaps this was a misdirected attack on Muslims since Sikhism is a peaceful religion - as if they were making the statement that if this were a Mosque it would have been okay? How come the first official message read out on air was from the Indian embassy, and not from the American President? How did it not occur to them, that these Sikhs were mostly Americans, who have given up their Indian passports to sing your National Anthem, and hoist your National Flag?  NBC didnt even bother to look away from the Olympics for a minute to inform their viewers of this horrible tragedy, and Fox covered it for a while, before they went back to their usual Democrat bashing.

At least we should appreciate CNN's full day coverage of the event, its ensuing investigation and the opportunity it took for a much needed Sikhism 101 lesson. But, the very fact that this needs appreciation is kind of sad and disheartening. I won't even bring up the almost absolute lack of coverage about the mosque being burnt down in Missouri a day later.

Perhaps just as the shooter killed the other on Sunday, You, America should kill the idea of the "Other". Believe that it is the "Other" that enriches your culture, opens your eyes and weaves a beautiful cultural tapestry for you. Make the "Other" not so different, know them as your "Own". Perhaps America should learn that yours is not the only culture, religion and lifestyle that is desirable - that you are in fact not the greatest country in the world (that's a pretty sweeping statement to make when you have so many issues giving rise to so many problems - but that's another blog post on another day) and that there exist other people on this earth - their religion just as desirable as yours, their lives just as valuable as yours, and their country just as great as you.

(Image originally found here.)

To Terry

Terry you always made fun of how little I write in my blog, and yet you always acknowledged that I only wrote about something when it really mattered to me, so I hope you know just from this rare event of me writing in my blog, how much you really mean to me. This one Ive been working on for a while now...

I can not believe that you just left. Without warning, without a big fuss. I guess you were still that stubborn Terry we all knew and love, right till the very end. That was always the way you were, wasn't it? If you had made up your mind about what you wanted to do, there was no way that we could change it.

Right from the beginning, that day in 1999 that Sanj took me into the ASSU Office from the HBSU table, you took me on as your personal charity case. I guess there was something about me that screamed, "help me!" to you. Although I was not a smart, confident, well-spoken, political girl (generally the type that you took an affinity to) you talked to me and together you and Jane made me feel welcome in the ASSU Office. My memory sucks, which you know, and I wish I was able to remember some more details of those days.

All I know is that somehow I ended up on the ASSU Executive, and the next thing I know Rakhi and you are grooming me for ASSU President. I attribute everything I know and am to those two years in the ASSU presidency. You awakened my political, critical soul, and somehow you knew it was there when it was so dormant, that even I did not know that it existed.

The last 10 years have been rough, and the one constant in my life has been you. You've been a father to me when my own father has not: I knew that you were always there no matter what.

I miss hearing you quietly tell me that you enjoyed the food that I made for you sometimes. If there was one thing you acknowledged about me, you did always mention that you enjoyed my Indian food. I miss cooking for you T-Bone. Im sorry for not being able to cook you that BIG Indian dinner that you always wanted, before we watched that movie you wanted me to see together: Second Generation. And Im so stupid Terry I couldnt even remember the name of the movie, all I knew was that it has a Bengali girl in it, and the last dialogue in the movie is "ami tomake bhalobashi". I found it though....in your collection, and Ill be watching it with someone you would have loved to meet. Speaking of which I remember the social where you used that line, and skipped a Romeo Dallaire speech the night before so you could learn a paragraph in Bengali from Bidisha. You always did the little things that mattered.

I miss our House Hotline sessions in the middle of the episodes. I think you liked Gregory House that much cos he reminded you of yourself. A Quiet, dedicated, straight-shooter who silently works away on the cause. I also remember how much you enjoyed the episodes which portrayed House's softer side. I just hope that you are watching down on me and you know that I miss you everytime I watch HOuse and I miss our regrouping sessions the next day in ASSU.

I miss sharing Brown music with you Terry-yucky. Your interest in Colonial Cousins always confused me! I miss saying, "Terry listen to this! Listen to this!" to make you stroll down to the front of the office and plop yourself down in the chair beside the computer. I miss that amused look that you used to give me as I would bob my head up and down to some brown tune, and try and explain why that piece is so special. Heh. Remember those conversations we used to have when I lived up in Davisville? Id try to explain the rhythm and the melody structures of Indian classical music to you, and you'd just shake your head and say, "its too complicated, I wish I learnt this stuff earlier".

You always figured out the little things in people. And you figured me out too. You knew how much music and dance meant to me, and you always told me that I should continue with it. You told me that I should work with kids and make my passion into my profession.l You felt it was good for me to go to teacher's college, (something I still disagree with you on). Terry I think you knew a bit before you had to leave, Im glad we had that long convo before. You know, Im a scatterbrain, I need to get me some perspective. :)

Im finally growing up, I just hit thirty old man. And I feel a grown up Rini inside somewhere starting to peek out. :) Youd be happy for me Terry: and if you are actually watching down at us, I think you actually are smiling, or maybe trying to hide it. Cos for once I actually am happy and I know what Im doing....and you know why. :)

Thanks for always being that sounding board for me, and Ill always remember everything you said during those times when I freaked out. THIS Ill always remember.

Terry the tickets for me to go to India with your ashes are ready now. Ely is happy, as are Jane and Priya. We are making your last wish happen soon....Soon, youll be getting your last trip to India and to Hrishikesh.

Im sure youre very happy.

Terry Buckland: 1951-2009

Terry Buckland a fixture at the University of Toronto since 1985 (so I think) passed away on Tuesday, September 8th, 2009 at 12:07 pm.

Terry was the Arts and Science Students' Union. With Jane, his colleague of 20 years, he built the student union to the union that it is today. Together they created the Anti-Calendar which is probably the only book of its kind in North America. Its been around for more than two decades and well respected by both students and the administration alike.

Terry was the reason why the student union took up issues like the 24 hours study space in Robarts, the waiving of interest on outstanding tuition in the Fall term, the faculty process for petitions and appeals, sky rocketing fees, the deregulation of fees in certain programs ultimately leading to the deregulation in the Faculty of Arts and Science. These projects were his babies, except he ensured that the Presidents from one year to the next would carry forward with the same work.

Except, Terry was not only all this, he was much much more to all of us. He might not have had his own kids, but he made children out of so many of us. Terry was always there for us. In my case him and ASSU have been the only constant in my life since 1999. When we were happy Terry was in the background, happy just knowing that we were happy. When something fell out of place in our lives, we could turn around knowing that Terry was there for us. And he was there for us like a parent: forgiving, loving, adoring - no matter what our faults were.

Terry awakened politics inside my soul, before I couldnt care less about politics and government. Terry got me into ASSU, told me I could be President, and that I would be a good one. Terry told me that I shouldnt go to SAC (but I did anyway) because I wouldnt like it (he was right). Terry told me that I should work with kids and education because that is what I love, and he was right again.

I was supposed to write Terry a letter once, which I never did, so I will in my next blog post.

Rest In Peace Terry.

Aqsa: The farthest light.

Aqsa, whoever named you probably did not mean for this to happen. Your name tragically has come true today. Today, you are far, far away from what you seem to have hated the most: the feeling of being trapped. My thoughts lie with you today, and I hope afterlife or whatever comes after life turns out to be better for you.


I was on the subway yesterday and in front of me sat a mother and 3 young girls. Almost certainly the three girls had not yet hit puberty. The youngest one was barely 4 years old. That really bothered me. All of them wore a hijab.


I am not Muslim, but I have read a little about the Islamic Religion. And as far as I know Muslim girls are supposed to decide on their own once they hit puberty whether or not they want to wear the head scarf. There are many websites online which discuss the pros and cons of wearing the hijab. The woman who have written on these posts all have a mind of their own and all speak for themselves. There are women who dont wear the scarf but are thinking about it. There are women who wear the scarf but regret making that decision years ago. There are mothers who have always worn the hijab, and dont want their daughters to.


Yeah, I can be naive and believe that all Muslim women have a choice. But I'd be wrong. In many cases there is the pressure of the norm. For example, if I was brought up in a conservative family wherein my mother, my aunts, my sisters all wore the hijab, I would definitely be under much more pressure to "decide" to wear the hijab when the time came.

I used to have a friend who wore the hijab, she had three younger sisters, none of whom who had decided to wear the hijab. By the time she finished University she had decided to also abandon the hijab. She was not a different person, she was the same funloving girl, except now we all got to see her hair.


I also know a girl who was one of the most timid girls I knew, she wore a hijab. Slowly as she went through University she went through an amazing change of personality. The last change was when she shed the hijab, and decided to cut her hair "short" to shoulder length.


I have a close friend, who is a mother of three children and wears the hijab. She has an amazing personality. She wrote two children's books, was a Part Time student Governor of the Governing Council of the University of Toronto and just recently was a candidate in the Ontario Provincial Election. She well-spoken, articulate, and speaks with fiery passion.


Many western feminists believe that the hijab is oppressive, that covering a woman's head inhibits their growth. Media portrayal also helps a little bit in this case. In reality though I doubt that is true in its entirety. Like so many arguments that deal with cultural tug-of-wars not everything in this argument is black and white. So, as I am not a muslim woman, I will refrain from commenting on what women in Islam should or should not do.


It is true crazy fanatics like Aqsa'a father, Parvez do exist. From the way that CBC online reads it seems to be evident that the fanaticism is being seamlessly passed down to his son, Waqas. But these fanatics do not just exist in the Islamic Religion. They exist amongst the Hindus, the Sikhs, the Christians, the Jews and every other religion on this planet. However, this is simply not just a question of religious fanaticism, it is also a situation of domestic violence against women and children perpetrated by men behind the closerd doors of a household. Violence is so rampant in our society. I wish I could ask what were Aqsa's mom and other siblings doing when she was being killed by her father?


Aqsa's story should not become a reason for so many to hate all Muslims as fanatics. I just hope that all the Aqsa's who feel trapped in a household of any religion, dont feel pressured to do what they are told to do. Being in Canada means, that women and children have the basic human right to their own opinions. Aqsa's death should remind parents of their basic duty to their children: to provide protection to their offspring.

Rest In Peace Aqsa. I hope you have found in death what you were searching for in Life.

He was always there.

I got woken up this morning to hear my brother say, "Didi, Anusua Miss emailed and she just wrote that Rathin Sir passed away this morning."

It did not really sink in, until I actually read the email myself.

"Rathin Sir" we used to call him, although he wasnt actually a teacher. He was always there, for good or for worse, he was there. He was our Principal, Joya Maam's husband. If Madam was our school's foundation rock, Rathin Sir was the calming water.

I remember being tormented in school with important things as the school fest, teachers day celebration or the annual function. Being one of the students who always had a "calamity" to face because of being involved I used to be running around campus looking for solutions to a problem or looking for problems to solve. Seeing Madam would mean rushing up to her asking her for her opinion. Seeing Rathin Sir would mean rushing up to him and asking him for an opinion only to get the answer, "Ami kichhu janina, Karta ke jiggesh koro". (I dont know anything, ask the boss!") If I asked where I would find Ma'am he'd say, "Look for the tornado, youll find her in the centre".


I always saw Rathin Sir behind Ma'am. Just Always there. There was something about him, calming. Not calming like staring at a mountain. But the feeling of calmness one finds while watching a trickling stream, flowing through the woods. We know that the Nature surrounding the stream is not only its creation. But the stream is of great significance to the life around it. The stream used to be part of something huge, but is slowly trickling now, as if its job here is done.

Rathin Sir always smiled, was always happy except for the last few months I saw him.

I hardly saw Rathin Sir after we came to know that Madam was seriously ill. I was one of the first two or three students to know. We wrote our ISC exams in the middle of the calm before the storm which was about to happen. Joya Madam was still always there, Rathin Sir was also always there. But while Madam tried to be the same, I dont think Rathin Sir was. Perhaps it was the feeling of impending loss, I dont know. But something was wrong in the school.

I travelled from the ashram in their car with Gargi Miss to visit Madam at the hospital, Apparently I could have been a blood donor. It turned out I was a perfect match except for one minor detail. I remember walking into the room to see Ma'am folding a sari and getting some stuff ready for me to give Rathin Sir. When I came back to the ashram Rathin Sir was sitting in the Ashram office, beside the entrance to the Meditation Hall I handed him the Sari and the Tiffin Carrier that Ma'am gave me. He had this look on his face. I will never forget it. He did not even ask me how Madam was, and somehow I felt that he did not want me to say anything. So I did'nt.

The last time I saw Rathin Sir was the last time I saw Ma'am. I got woken up at about 5 am in the morning by a phone call from Gargi Miss. She wanted me to get Diya and come to the school as soon as possible. I knew what was wrong. We showed up, but could not bear to go inside. Diya and I went to the market to find as many white roses as possible. They were her favourite flowers. By the time we brought them back there were people everywhere. The last I remember seeing Ma'am, was a first: she was for once in one place at one time. Again in the centre of a tornado. And right behind her: Rathin Sir. He looked up saw the white roses and had a sad smile in his eyes. The peace that we always associated him with was still there. But there was something else, something inexplicable about that moment.

That was the last I saw either of them. The day I went to The Future Foundation School to say bye to the teachers, the students, the staff and my school, I tried to find Rathin Sir. I couldnt find him and I think I was told he was resting. Im happy I never saw him again. I like to remember him the way I remember him: with Ma'am in the centre of a tornado.

I dont believe in Heaven, or an after life. But when it comes to Rathin Sir and Joya Madam, I have a strange vision of an after-life of togetherness.

My school: http://www.sriaurobindoinstitute.org/container.php?page_name=educational/ffs/in_brief