Gauri Nawathe is Utterly insignificant, a complete waste of matter.
The Universe does not register your existence in any way. Your life or death does not, and will not have any significance whatsoever, but take heart... you are not alone…
That’s what a personality test on Facebook called me… Utterly insignificant… Hmm…
I guess we need to be reminded of this from time to time, so that we stop taking ourselves seriously and remember that there are much more important things in the world…
Friday, December 14, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Monkeys and Traditions
A thought-provoking story I recently read:
An anthropologist was doing research on some monkeys in a zoo. The monkeys were kept in a cage. A bunch of bananas were hung to the ceiling and a ladder was placed next to it. Every time a monkey tried to climb up and eat the bananas, the anthropologist would shower cold water on him. After a while, the monkeys ceased trying to reach up to the bananas. Even when someone did try, he was promptly beaten up and pulled down by the other monkeys. Cold water showers were no longer needed to dissuade them.
A few days later, the anthropologist removed a monkey from the cage and sent in a new simian. This new resident, unaware of ‘the rule’, would try to climb the ladder. The other monkeys would beat him up until ‘the rule’ was clear to him. Some days later, the anthropologist introduced a new monkey into the cage after removing one from the original group. This new monkey too would be beaten until he submitted to ‘the rule’.
Eventually, the anthropologist replaced all the monkeys from the original group. But ‘the rule’ prevailed. The new monkeys had never experienced the cold showers; they were just imitating the others. And thus, a tradition was passed on and followed even though the monkeys had not a clue why…
(Isn’t it time we stopped acting like the monkeys? After all, we are in a much more advanced stage of evolution. Or are we?)
An anthropologist was doing research on some monkeys in a zoo. The monkeys were kept in a cage. A bunch of bananas were hung to the ceiling and a ladder was placed next to it. Every time a monkey tried to climb up and eat the bananas, the anthropologist would shower cold water on him. After a while, the monkeys ceased trying to reach up to the bananas. Even when someone did try, he was promptly beaten up and pulled down by the other monkeys. Cold water showers were no longer needed to dissuade them.
A few days later, the anthropologist removed a monkey from the cage and sent in a new simian. This new resident, unaware of ‘the rule’, would try to climb the ladder. The other monkeys would beat him up until ‘the rule’ was clear to him. Some days later, the anthropologist introduced a new monkey into the cage after removing one from the original group. This new monkey too would be beaten until he submitted to ‘the rule’.
Eventually, the anthropologist replaced all the monkeys from the original group. But ‘the rule’ prevailed. The new monkeys had never experienced the cold showers; they were just imitating the others. And thus, a tradition was passed on and followed even though the monkeys had not a clue why…
(Isn’t it time we stopped acting like the monkeys? After all, we are in a much more advanced stage of evolution. Or are we?)
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Cultural Relativism and Human Rights
Cultural relativism is defined as ‘understanding another culture in its own terms sympathetically enough so that the culture appears a coherent and meaningful design for living.’ Note the use of the word “sympathetic”.
Cultural relativism encourages us to understand another culture with an open mind free of any prejudices. It makes us realise that there are more than one ways of living because culture is basically a way of life. It prevents us from jumping to conclusions on what is right and what is wrong.
Sometime ago, I listened to a programme on Radio France where they were discussing women’s rights in the North African countries with predominantly Muslim populations (Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria). Eventually, the issue of polygamy came up. The speakers immediately voiced their outrage over this practice. But one of them (a woman) explained that women in these countries are only happy to welcome the second or the third wife because it helps to ease the burden of household chores and farm work.
So the point I’m trying to make here is that what might seem wrong to me, might work well for someone else.
But can cultural relativism justify horrible “cultural” practices like female circumcision, honour killings, stoning an adulterer to death, etc.? Think of the British teacher who was arrested in Sudan for allowing her students to name the class teddy-bear ‘Mohammed’. Unlike others and without doubt because she was a foreigner, she was lucky to have received a full pardon. I firmly believe that anything that violates human rights should be condemned.
I do not recall the exact details of the case but a Spanish judge acquitted a man for beating his wife because (the judge said) it was quite a common thing to do among his kind of people (his culture). This is nothing but patronising behaviour; if one of us does it, it’s condemnable but if one of them does it, it’s ok, because it’s their culture!
Protection of human rights should be our main concern, rather than avoiding hurting somebody’s cultural (or religious) sensibilities.
Cultural relativism encourages us to understand another culture with an open mind free of any prejudices. It makes us realise that there are more than one ways of living because culture is basically a way of life. It prevents us from jumping to conclusions on what is right and what is wrong.
Sometime ago, I listened to a programme on Radio France where they were discussing women’s rights in the North African countries with predominantly Muslim populations (Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria). Eventually, the issue of polygamy came up. The speakers immediately voiced their outrage over this practice. But one of them (a woman) explained that women in these countries are only happy to welcome the second or the third wife because it helps to ease the burden of household chores and farm work.
So the point I’m trying to make here is that what might seem wrong to me, might work well for someone else.
But can cultural relativism justify horrible “cultural” practices like female circumcision, honour killings, stoning an adulterer to death, etc.? Think of the British teacher who was arrested in Sudan for allowing her students to name the class teddy-bear ‘Mohammed’. Unlike others and without doubt because she was a foreigner, she was lucky to have received a full pardon. I firmly believe that anything that violates human rights should be condemned.
I do not recall the exact details of the case but a Spanish judge acquitted a man for beating his wife because (the judge said) it was quite a common thing to do among his kind of people (his culture). This is nothing but patronising behaviour; if one of us does it, it’s condemnable but if one of them does it, it’s ok, because it’s their culture!
Protection of human rights should be our main concern, rather than avoiding hurting somebody’s cultural (or religious) sensibilities.
Friday, December 7, 2007
The Dream Diary
Last night I dreamt of a snowfall. It started with little wisps of snow and then turned into a shower. It looked so pretty against the grey skies. Thankfully I was dressed for the occasion. I ran out into the snowfall, my hands stretched out to catch the snow. And I distinctly remember that it all happened in slow motion. A result of watching too many movies, I guess!
I also dreamt of beating the hell out of a man. I’d never seen the man before and I don’t even remember why I beat him. Wonder what this dream means… Does it mean that I feel threatened by them? Or is it the other way around? Or is there too much aggression bottled up in me?
I also dreamt of beating the hell out of a man. I’d never seen the man before and I don’t even remember why I beat him. Wonder what this dream means… Does it mean that I feel threatened by them? Or is it the other way around? Or is there too much aggression bottled up in me?
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Battle against the extra kilos
Hunting for a good pair of jeans that fits well can be traumatising. First of all, you realise that you are never going to fit in those incredibly stylish skinny jeans. Then, with great horror, you realise that your waist-line has expanded since you last went jeans-hunting. You silently curse all those moments you gave in to the temptation of those gigantic ice-cream sundaes, those extra helpings of pav bhaji and those sugar-loaded Diwali mithais. You silently curse yourself for not sticking to the morning walk routine just for a few more hours of sleep. And then you make resolutions to exercise more and eat healthy. Only to break them a few hours later when mom cooks up some delicious biryani.
Post-Diwali and post-vacations-in-Gujarat (where every meal has at least two sweets soaked in ghee), I’m contemplating starting the battle against the extra kilos. My plans include –
1) Going for walks twice a day
2) Eating less
3) Eating healthy
4) Stop munching on chocolate-coated almonds as I write this
To put this plan into action and to ensure that I stick to eat… oops, it, I have decided to take some very strict measures –
1) Setting the alarm clock night after night even if I ignore it day after day (One should never give up hope)
2) Not stocking the fridge with snacks (That means not visiting the neighbourhood supermarkets, because they have a way of enticing you to buy stuff you shouldn’t)
3) Not raiding the fridge every two minutes (As if, miraculously, a chocolate cake or something delicious would appear in it)
4) Posting stupid entries on the blog such as this one to take mind off food.
Post-Diwali and post-vacations-in-Gujarat (where every meal has at least two sweets soaked in ghee), I’m contemplating starting the battle against the extra kilos. My plans include –
1) Going for walks twice a day
2) Eating less
3) Eating healthy
4) Stop munching on chocolate-coated almonds as I write this
To put this plan into action and to ensure that I stick to eat… oops, it, I have decided to take some very strict measures –
1) Setting the alarm clock night after night even if I ignore it day after day (One should never give up hope)
2) Not stocking the fridge with snacks (That means not visiting the neighbourhood supermarkets, because they have a way of enticing you to buy stuff you shouldn’t)
3) Not raiding the fridge every two minutes (As if, miraculously, a chocolate cake or something delicious would appear in it)
4) Posting stupid entries on the blog such as this one to take mind off food.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Questions, questions…
Are all men born equal?
Aren’t some born richer than others, more gifted than others, stronger than others, more fortunate than others?
Are all men really born equal?
Aren’t some born richer than others, more gifted than others, stronger than others, more fortunate than others?
Are all men really born equal?
More questions…
What is right and what is wrong?
Who decides what is right and what is wrong?
What is to sin?
Does the end justify the means?
Who decides what is right and what is wrong?
What is to sin?
Does the end justify the means?
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Monday, October 8, 2007
Some questions…
Where have we come from?
Why are we here?
Where do we go to from here?
What is the meaning of our existence?
Is there a Power that controls our lives?
Is there God?
Is there a beginning and an end to Time and Space?
What happens to us after death?
Why are we here?
Where do we go to from here?
What is the meaning of our existence?
Is there a Power that controls our lives?
Is there God?
Is there a beginning and an end to Time and Space?
What happens to us after death?
About religion…
It was the rebellious teen in me that led me to question the existence of God and religion. Rebellious because as a family we were, and my parents still are, fervently religious. We visit temples frequently and have poojas performed from time to time.
It was in Benares, the holy city of the Hindus, that I first witnessed the ugly side of religion. The dying and the dead are brought to this ancient city in order to attain salvation. Consequently, it is a city of suffering and misery. Indeed death is a part of life, something all of us will eventually face. But the image of a dying man, lying almost naked on the street, one leg stretched upwards like rigor mortis had already set in, flies hovering about him, left me numb and has stayed with me after all these years. We passed him by like hundreds of others around us. We tried to ignore him, tried not to look at him. He might have attained the much-pursued salvation, but that could not change the fact that he had died and probably even lived in misery. Next, the attitude of the priests shocked me. They hustled us, screamed at us as we stood in the queue. They offered to help us jump the queue if we paid up a certain amount. We had gone looking for a spiritual experience and we left disturbed and shaken. My belief in religion and its goodness suffered a blow and put me on the path to question.
What is it that led men to form religion (including the ancient pagan ones)? Was it the fear of the unknown, of Nature, of those invisible powers that caused lightings and earthquakes and deluges? I have often wondered if religion has done more good to mankind than bad. It gave the society some rules to live by, but it also gave us wars and bloodshed that continue till date. At times, religion became the means to suppress women and a certain section of the society. It became the weapon of the rich, the educated and the powerful to be used against the poor, the illiterate and the powerless.
Not that I am against religion. It’s up to every individual to make his or her choice. But I sincerely wish that religion be kept out of our public lives. It’s a little to quixotic to say so but I hope religion ceases one day to be a dividing factor in our modern societies. I also believe that religion should not guide our actions and thoughts to such an extent that we lose our faculty of independent thinking. We should learn to question dogmas and let religion evolve with time because morals, values and concepts of good and bad change with time and religion should reflect those changes.
Gandhi used to say that there are as many religions as human beings. So probably it would be wrong to say I have no religion. Mine is that of questioning…
It was in Benares, the holy city of the Hindus, that I first witnessed the ugly side of religion. The dying and the dead are brought to this ancient city in order to attain salvation. Consequently, it is a city of suffering and misery. Indeed death is a part of life, something all of us will eventually face. But the image of a dying man, lying almost naked on the street, one leg stretched upwards like rigor mortis had already set in, flies hovering about him, left me numb and has stayed with me after all these years. We passed him by like hundreds of others around us. We tried to ignore him, tried not to look at him. He might have attained the much-pursued salvation, but that could not change the fact that he had died and probably even lived in misery. Next, the attitude of the priests shocked me. They hustled us, screamed at us as we stood in the queue. They offered to help us jump the queue if we paid up a certain amount. We had gone looking for a spiritual experience and we left disturbed and shaken. My belief in religion and its goodness suffered a blow and put me on the path to question.
What is it that led men to form religion (including the ancient pagan ones)? Was it the fear of the unknown, of Nature, of those invisible powers that caused lightings and earthquakes and deluges? I have often wondered if religion has done more good to mankind than bad. It gave the society some rules to live by, but it also gave us wars and bloodshed that continue till date. At times, religion became the means to suppress women and a certain section of the society. It became the weapon of the rich, the educated and the powerful to be used against the poor, the illiterate and the powerless.
Not that I am against religion. It’s up to every individual to make his or her choice. But I sincerely wish that religion be kept out of our public lives. It’s a little to quixotic to say so but I hope religion ceases one day to be a dividing factor in our modern societies. I also believe that religion should not guide our actions and thoughts to such an extent that we lose our faculty of independent thinking. We should learn to question dogmas and let religion evolve with time because morals, values and concepts of good and bad change with time and religion should reflect those changes.
Gandhi used to say that there are as many religions as human beings. So probably it would be wrong to say I have no religion. Mine is that of questioning…
Exam-time!!!
It’s exam time…
Textbooks long-lost and forgotten, found after several days of excavation in my cupboard.
Hundreds of study time-tables drafted, only to be torn and re-drafted.
(They are never meant to be followed anyway.)
Valiant attempts to study, thwarted by bouts of day-dreaming and telephone calls.
HBO decides to screen a movie I’ve always wanted to see.
Three hours straight down the drain.
Few days to go.
But I still haven’t got much done.
Every single day starts with a resolute determination to study.
And ends with a resolute determination to start over afresh tomorrow.
But as we all know, tomorrow never comes.
When I was in school, my mother gave me Ayurvedic medicines that were supposed to help me concentrate. They probably worked. If I were reading my favourite novel or watching a great movie and if you burst a fire-cracker right under my ear, I wouldn’t realise.
But when I’m studying, for example something thoroughly compelling like Business Regulatory Framework, even a pigeon on the window sill can be a huge distraction. Not to mention my grand-mother’s weepy and tacky TV soaps that she insists on playing full-volume.
Here I am typing away when my Economics textbook looks invitingly at me… Oh boy, am I turning schizophrenic?? (Wow, I spelt it right… I think…)
Must get back to work. Must not think about starting a revolution to ban exams that would put the French to shame. Must not think about pretending to be abducted by aliens on the first day of the exam to return later with my memory erased. Ahhh! Must stop before I reveal too many secrets…
Textbooks long-lost and forgotten, found after several days of excavation in my cupboard.
Hundreds of study time-tables drafted, only to be torn and re-drafted.
(They are never meant to be followed anyway.)
Valiant attempts to study, thwarted by bouts of day-dreaming and telephone calls.
HBO decides to screen a movie I’ve always wanted to see.
Three hours straight down the drain.
Few days to go.
But I still haven’t got much done.
Every single day starts with a resolute determination to study.
And ends with a resolute determination to start over afresh tomorrow.
But as we all know, tomorrow never comes.
When I was in school, my mother gave me Ayurvedic medicines that were supposed to help me concentrate. They probably worked. If I were reading my favourite novel or watching a great movie and if you burst a fire-cracker right under my ear, I wouldn’t realise.
But when I’m studying, for example something thoroughly compelling like Business Regulatory Framework, even a pigeon on the window sill can be a huge distraction. Not to mention my grand-mother’s weepy and tacky TV soaps that she insists on playing full-volume.
Here I am typing away when my Economics textbook looks invitingly at me… Oh boy, am I turning schizophrenic?? (Wow, I spelt it right… I think…)
Must get back to work. Must not think about starting a revolution to ban exams that would put the French to shame. Must not think about pretending to be abducted by aliens on the first day of the exam to return later with my memory erased. Ahhh! Must stop before I reveal too many secrets…
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
The Street-light Syndrome
As I pass under a street-light it flickers and then goes out. A few feet away, another flickers and dies. No, this is not a scene from a horror movie. It happens to me! And all the time!!
It all started back in the good old school days. I realised that street-lamps went out when I passed under them. I thought I was going crazy. Probably an overdose of Goosebumps and X-Files. Then I told my best friend, who lived across the street, about it. Being an X-Files fan too, she appeared to be as intrigued and shocked as me. Or maybe she was just being nice and didn’t want to tell me that I was perfectly qualified to enter a mental asylum...
I lived with this strange phenomenon for years, never once daring to tell anybody about it. And then one day, I read somewhere that this is called the “street-light syndrome”. On searching the net I found there are quite a few people who, the word is probably too strong, suffer from it. This phenomenon has no scientific explanation and it’s probably just a game that the mind plays on you. Maybe Mulder would know.
It all started back in the good old school days. I realised that street-lamps went out when I passed under them. I thought I was going crazy. Probably an overdose of Goosebumps and X-Files. Then I told my best friend, who lived across the street, about it. Being an X-Files fan too, she appeared to be as intrigued and shocked as me. Or maybe she was just being nice and didn’t want to tell me that I was perfectly qualified to enter a mental asylum...
I lived with this strange phenomenon for years, never once daring to tell anybody about it. And then one day, I read somewhere that this is called the “street-light syndrome”. On searching the net I found there are quite a few people who, the word is probably too strong, suffer from it. This phenomenon has no scientific explanation and it’s probably just a game that the mind plays on you. Maybe Mulder would know.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
What shall be the 11th art?
What shall be the 11th art?
(A translation of my French essay)
Note: In France, cinema is said to be the 7th art. I have no idea about the other nine. Our French professor asked us to imagine what shall be the 11th art and here’s what I wrote.
(A translation of my French essay)
Note: In France, cinema is said to be the 7th art. I have no idea about the other nine. Our French professor asked us to imagine what shall be the 11th art and here’s what I wrote.
0630: Mr. X wakes up. He showers while listening to the radio. As always, two road accidents, a report on Paris Hilton in jail and a bomb-blast in Palestine.
0730: He breakfasts. Along with decaffeinated coffee (since he’s real careful about his health)
Then he walks towards the station from where he will take the metro to work. His work doesn’t interest him. But since it pays well, he hangs on. He will return to work at eight with a pain in the back. He will go to bed, the television on, without eating his dinner but after having taken some anti-depressants.
Life goes on in this way. Of course, he goes on vacations sometimes. He goes to the beach, he has fun. He returns to work, with a tan and a hangover.
Life flies him by. At sixty, he’s rich, a ‘success’. After a stroke that almost killed him, he asks himself, “What did I do with my life?” It’s too late…
No one would like to end up like Mr. X. Yet, we let life pass us by, burying our dreams and doing what the society wants us to do. We forget that life is short and so one must rejoice every moment of it.
Considering this is a huge problem of the twenty-first century, I think the 11th art should be “the art of living”. And we must study and perfect this art which is dying.
Indeed, life has become too demanding. Or maybe we demand too much of life. We are like Alexander who wants to conquer the world. Here’s a little dialogue between him and Diogenes, the great philosopher.
Diogenes: What do you desire the most, your majesty?
Alexander: I wish to conquer Greece.
D: And then?
A: And then I wish to conquer the whole world.
D: And then?
A: And then I shall rest and enjoy myself.
D: But that, your majesty, you can do even now!
0730: He breakfasts. Along with decaffeinated coffee (since he’s real careful about his health)
Then he walks towards the station from where he will take the metro to work. His work doesn’t interest him. But since it pays well, he hangs on. He will return to work at eight with a pain in the back. He will go to bed, the television on, without eating his dinner but after having taken some anti-depressants.
Life goes on in this way. Of course, he goes on vacations sometimes. He goes to the beach, he has fun. He returns to work, with a tan and a hangover.
Life flies him by. At sixty, he’s rich, a ‘success’. After a stroke that almost killed him, he asks himself, “What did I do with my life?” It’s too late…
No one would like to end up like Mr. X. Yet, we let life pass us by, burying our dreams and doing what the society wants us to do. We forget that life is short and so one must rejoice every moment of it.
Considering this is a huge problem of the twenty-first century, I think the 11th art should be “the art of living”. And we must study and perfect this art which is dying.
Indeed, life has become too demanding. Or maybe we demand too much of life. We are like Alexander who wants to conquer the world. Here’s a little dialogue between him and Diogenes, the great philosopher.
Diogenes: What do you desire the most, your majesty?
Alexander: I wish to conquer Greece.
D: And then?
A: And then I wish to conquer the whole world.
D: And then?
A: And then I shall rest and enjoy myself.
D: But that, your majesty, you can do even now!
The translation of my prize-winning poem :)
TO EACH HIS FAITH
Be it the religion of Buddha,
The cult of Jesus or Zarathustra,
All religions preach harmony,
Love, peace and respect of life.
Isn’t it strange that in the name of religion,
Men become violent,
The learned exploit the ignorant,
And spread superstition.
Fanaticism is the arm of the narrow-minded,
Who have locked hearts, closed eyes,
Misguided by ignorance and prejudice,
Unleash wars and atrocities.
One day, I am sure, this madness will stop,
The world shall be tolerant – a Utopia!
Everyone shall be able to follow his own way,
To each his own life, to each his own faith.
Be it the religion of Buddha,
The cult of Jesus or Zarathustra,
All religions preach harmony,
Love, peace and respect of life.
Isn’t it strange that in the name of religion,
Men become violent,
The learned exploit the ignorant,
And spread superstition.
Fanaticism is the arm of the narrow-minded,
Who have locked hearts, closed eyes,
Misguided by ignorance and prejudice,
Unleash wars and atrocities.
One day, I am sure, this madness will stop,
The world shall be tolerant – a Utopia!
Everyone shall be able to follow his own way,
To each his own life, to each his own faith.
Man and Woman: Different and Equal?
Are women really different from men apart, of course, from the obvious physical differences? Are their brains wired differently? Do they think differently? Are they from Venus while the men are from Mars? Will the two sexes ever find a common footing? Will the battle of the sexes ever end?
There has always been a great deal of debate on these questions between the two schools of feminists. Some believe men and women are fundamentally the same and the differences we see are the results of their different socialising. Simone de Beauvoir for one, argued that the reason why a woman differed from man was her upbringing. A little girl is brought up to be a woman in the future – a wife, a mother, “the carer”. A little boy is brought up to be a man – a husband, a father, “the provider”. Isn’t it quite common to give the little girl a doll as if to prepare her for the future motherhood? The boy, on the other hand, will quite likely be given a car to play with, as if to imbibe on him the importance of wealth and success. Thus, ‘the maternal instinct’ becomes an essentially feminine attribute and ‘wealth’ and ‘success’, typically masculine attributes. If at birth we are fundamentally the same, a man should develop the ‘carer instinct’ if given dolls to play with in his childhood. There is no scientific data to prove this and we probably will never know if this were true…
Then coming to the other school of thought, the ones that believe that men and women are fundamentally different in all respects. It is nature, and not years of socialising, that has endowed men and women with heir different characteristics. They believe that the roles of men and women are essentially complementary and yet, equal. I may be wrong here, but might this stance drive us to stereotyping, something that feminists have tried to fight against over the years? If the roles of women were different but complementary then maybe it is up to women to look after the household and the children and up to the men to work and earn? Certainly, it is not so as women have proved by successfully making their mark in the public sphere. Some might even argue that the roles of men and women are not necessarily complementary since many of us find perfect happiness living alone or with a partner of the same sex.
Now let us assume that men and women are fundamentally different. The woman is endowed with characteristics (stereo)typically attributed to her (caring, loving, sensitive forgiving, etc.). Ditto for the man (in this case, he’s a fighter, the protector, the provider). The woman is thus naturally inclined toward the home and the hearth. She stays back home to care for the children and look after the household. The man goes out to work and to earn the livelihood. There is a clear division of labour here, the two roles being complementary to each other. But then why is it so that the man’s work acquires precedence and is superior to the eyes of the society and the woman is just a ‘homemaker’? The two roles are equally important, the society requiring child-bearers and rearers as much as rocket scientists and doctors.
Take another example. Traditionally, women have opted and still opt in large number for study of humanities and languages. Men have been more partial to the hard sciences like engineering. It is probably a result of gender-stereotyping so prevalent in our society (arts is for girls, sciences are for boys) or maybe it’s just that women have a certain knack for languages and social sciences because they are supposed to be better communicators. The important question here is then why are the male-dominated streams considered superior to the streams where women seem to excel? Once again, doesn’t the society require teachers and translators as much as engineers and architects?
Now let’s keep the much-controversial question “Are men and women fundamentally different?” aside. Let’s just accept that gender-differences will continue to exist at least in the near future. And let’s celebrate the differences. And above all, let’s respect women for the choices that they make – be it to be a career-woman or a homemaker. Meanwhile, let’s leave it to the sociologists, the scientists and the feminists to find out if men and women are really different… Till then, here’s raising a toast to the differences which make life more rich and interesting!
There has always been a great deal of debate on these questions between the two schools of feminists. Some believe men and women are fundamentally the same and the differences we see are the results of their different socialising. Simone de Beauvoir for one, argued that the reason why a woman differed from man was her upbringing. A little girl is brought up to be a woman in the future – a wife, a mother, “the carer”. A little boy is brought up to be a man – a husband, a father, “the provider”. Isn’t it quite common to give the little girl a doll as if to prepare her for the future motherhood? The boy, on the other hand, will quite likely be given a car to play with, as if to imbibe on him the importance of wealth and success. Thus, ‘the maternal instinct’ becomes an essentially feminine attribute and ‘wealth’ and ‘success’, typically masculine attributes. If at birth we are fundamentally the same, a man should develop the ‘carer instinct’ if given dolls to play with in his childhood. There is no scientific data to prove this and we probably will never know if this were true…
Then coming to the other school of thought, the ones that believe that men and women are fundamentally different in all respects. It is nature, and not years of socialising, that has endowed men and women with heir different characteristics. They believe that the roles of men and women are essentially complementary and yet, equal. I may be wrong here, but might this stance drive us to stereotyping, something that feminists have tried to fight against over the years? If the roles of women were different but complementary then maybe it is up to women to look after the household and the children and up to the men to work and earn? Certainly, it is not so as women have proved by successfully making their mark in the public sphere. Some might even argue that the roles of men and women are not necessarily complementary since many of us find perfect happiness living alone or with a partner of the same sex.
Now let us assume that men and women are fundamentally different. The woman is endowed with characteristics (stereo)typically attributed to her (caring, loving, sensitive forgiving, etc.). Ditto for the man (in this case, he’s a fighter, the protector, the provider). The woman is thus naturally inclined toward the home and the hearth. She stays back home to care for the children and look after the household. The man goes out to work and to earn the livelihood. There is a clear division of labour here, the two roles being complementary to each other. But then why is it so that the man’s work acquires precedence and is superior to the eyes of the society and the woman is just a ‘homemaker’? The two roles are equally important, the society requiring child-bearers and rearers as much as rocket scientists and doctors.
Take another example. Traditionally, women have opted and still opt in large number for study of humanities and languages. Men have been more partial to the hard sciences like engineering. It is probably a result of gender-stereotyping so prevalent in our society (arts is for girls, sciences are for boys) or maybe it’s just that women have a certain knack for languages and social sciences because they are supposed to be better communicators. The important question here is then why are the male-dominated streams considered superior to the streams where women seem to excel? Once again, doesn’t the society require teachers and translators as much as engineers and architects?
Now let’s keep the much-controversial question “Are men and women fundamentally different?” aside. Let’s just accept that gender-differences will continue to exist at least in the near future. And let’s celebrate the differences. And above all, let’s respect women for the choices that they make – be it to be a career-woman or a homemaker. Meanwhile, let’s leave it to the sociologists, the scientists and the feminists to find out if men and women are really different… Till then, here’s raising a toast to the differences which make life more rich and interesting!
Friday, September 7, 2007
One hundred years of Solitude
"My most important problem was destroying the lines of demarcation that separates what seems real from what seems fantastic." - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Hesitantly, I picked up and bought Marquez’s “One hundred years of Solitude”. Magical realism was a genre new to me. But once I’d begun reading, I was, to use a terrible cliché, hooked…
It is a book where the real and the surreal crisscross paths, where daguerreotypes and flying carpets co-exist, where a young girl rises into the heavens never to return and the steam-engine is brought into a village amidst jubilance. A village falls victim to an epidemic of insomnia but, like every other village has its share of jealousies, enmities and love-stories.
Marquez intertwines magic and realism effortlessly, and at a certain point, the reader can no longer differentiate between the two. He narrates the story of the village of Macondo, of the Buendia family whose fortunes rise and fall with that of the village. There is a story within the story, several sub-plots and a narrative that moves backwards and forwards. It is can become difficult to follow sometimes, with confusing relations between the Buendia family members and the recurring names. The family tree at the beginning of the book sure does help.
I absolutely loved this book for two reasons – its capacity to transport you into another world and of course, the delightful blend of fantasy and realism.
Another book that succeeds in doing this is Salman Rushdie’s “Shalimar, the Clown”, and I’ll review it later. For now, if you haven’t read “One hundred years of solitude”, get down to it ASAP…
Hesitantly, I picked up and bought Marquez’s “One hundred years of Solitude”. Magical realism was a genre new to me. But once I’d begun reading, I was, to use a terrible cliché, hooked…
It is a book where the real and the surreal crisscross paths, where daguerreotypes and flying carpets co-exist, where a young girl rises into the heavens never to return and the steam-engine is brought into a village amidst jubilance. A village falls victim to an epidemic of insomnia but, like every other village has its share of jealousies, enmities and love-stories.
Marquez intertwines magic and realism effortlessly, and at a certain point, the reader can no longer differentiate between the two. He narrates the story of the village of Macondo, of the Buendia family whose fortunes rise and fall with that of the village. There is a story within the story, several sub-plots and a narrative that moves backwards and forwards. It is can become difficult to follow sometimes, with confusing relations between the Buendia family members and the recurring names. The family tree at the beginning of the book sure does help.
I absolutely loved this book for two reasons – its capacity to transport you into another world and of course, the delightful blend of fantasy and realism.
Another book that succeeds in doing this is Salman Rushdie’s “Shalimar, the Clown”, and I’ll review it later. For now, if you haven’t read “One hundred years of solitude”, get down to it ASAP…
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
À CHACUN SA FOI... (This is a French poem I wrote for a competition. I won!)
Que ce soit la religion de Bouddha,
Le culte de Jésus ou de Zarathoustra,
Toutes les religions prêchent l’harmonie,
L’amour, la paix, le respect de la vie.
N’est-il pas étrange qu’au nom de religion,
Les hommes deviennent violents,
Les savants exploitent les ignorants,
Répandant malédiction et superstition.
Le fanatisme est une arme des bornés,
Qui ont des cœurs serrés, des yeux fermés,
Trompés par l’ignorance et des préjugés,
Déclenchent des guerres, des atrocités.
Un jour, je suis sûr, s’arrêtera la folie,
Le monde sera tolérant – une Utopie !
Chacun pourra suivre sa propre voie,
À chacun sa vie, à chacun sa foi.
Le culte de Jésus ou de Zarathoustra,
Toutes les religions prêchent l’harmonie,
L’amour, la paix, le respect de la vie.
N’est-il pas étrange qu’au nom de religion,
Les hommes deviennent violents,
Les savants exploitent les ignorants,
Répandant malédiction et superstition.
Le fanatisme est une arme des bornés,
Qui ont des cœurs serrés, des yeux fermés,
Trompés par l’ignorance et des préjugés,
Déclenchent des guerres, des atrocités.
Un jour, je suis sûr, s’arrêtera la folie,
Le monde sera tolérant – une Utopie !
Chacun pourra suivre sa propre voie,
À chacun sa vie, à chacun sa foi.
Quel sera le 11e art ? (This is an essay I wrote for my French class)
0630 : M. X se réveille. Il prend la douche écoutant la radio. Comme toujours deux accidents routiers, un reportage sur Paris Hilton en prison et un attentat en Palestine.
0730 : Il prend son petit-déjeuner. Avec du café décaféiné (comme il fait très attention à sa santé)
Puis il se lance vers la gare d’où il prendra le métro pour aller travailler. Son travail lui désintéresse. Mais comme il est bien payé, il semble content. Il rentrera chez lui à 20h avec un mal au dos. Il se couchera, la télé allumée, sans avoir dîné, mais après avoir pris des antidépresseurs.
La vie continue dans cette manière. Bien sûr, il prend des vacances parfois. Il va à la plage, il s’amuse. Et il revient au travail, bronzé et avec une gueule de bois.
La vie coule sans qu’il sache. À 60 ans, il est riche, « une réussite » Lors d’une apoplexie qui l’a faillit tué, il se demande, « Qu’est-ce que j’ai fait de ma vie ? » Trop tard…
Personne ne voudrait être comme M. X. Pourtant nous laissons passer la vie, enterrant nos rêves et faisant ce que la société veut de nous. Nous oublions que la vie est courte et donc il faut profiter de chaque moment. Tenant en compte ce grand problème de 21e siècle, je pense que le 11e art doit être « l’art de vivre » Et il faut étudier et parfaire cet art qui est en train de mourir.
Certes, la vie est devenue plus exigeante. Ou peut-être, nous exigeons trop de la vie. Nous sommes comme Alexandre qui veut conquérir le monde. Voici un dialogue entre lui et Diogène, un philosophe.
D : Que voulez-vous le plus, votre majesté ?
A : Je veux vaincre la Grèce.
D : Et puis ?
A : Je veux vaincre le monde entier.
D : Et puis ?
A : Et puis, je vais me reposer et m’amuser.
D : Mais ceci, votre majesté, vous pouvez le faire maintenant !
0730 : Il prend son petit-déjeuner. Avec du café décaféiné (comme il fait très attention à sa santé)
Puis il se lance vers la gare d’où il prendra le métro pour aller travailler. Son travail lui désintéresse. Mais comme il est bien payé, il semble content. Il rentrera chez lui à 20h avec un mal au dos. Il se couchera, la télé allumée, sans avoir dîné, mais après avoir pris des antidépresseurs.
La vie continue dans cette manière. Bien sûr, il prend des vacances parfois. Il va à la plage, il s’amuse. Et il revient au travail, bronzé et avec une gueule de bois.
La vie coule sans qu’il sache. À 60 ans, il est riche, « une réussite » Lors d’une apoplexie qui l’a faillit tué, il se demande, « Qu’est-ce que j’ai fait de ma vie ? » Trop tard…
Personne ne voudrait être comme M. X. Pourtant nous laissons passer la vie, enterrant nos rêves et faisant ce que la société veut de nous. Nous oublions que la vie est courte et donc il faut profiter de chaque moment. Tenant en compte ce grand problème de 21e siècle, je pense que le 11e art doit être « l’art de vivre » Et il faut étudier et parfaire cet art qui est en train de mourir.
Certes, la vie est devenue plus exigeante. Ou peut-être, nous exigeons trop de la vie. Nous sommes comme Alexandre qui veut conquérir le monde. Voici un dialogue entre lui et Diogène, un philosophe.
D : Que voulez-vous le plus, votre majesté ?
A : Je veux vaincre la Grèce.
D : Et puis ?
A : Je veux vaincre le monde entier.
D : Et puis ?
A : Et puis, je vais me reposer et m’amuser.
D : Mais ceci, votre majesté, vous pouvez le faire maintenant !
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