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| HER WORLD | Sunday, December 21, 2003, Chandigarh, India |
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Crossing boundaries
Woman with a vision
Parent perfect Nurturing sensitivity towards animals makes kids gentler
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Crossing boundaries THE landscape stretches endlessly—miles of earth, brooding and rippling by turns—the gold of sarson, more assertive than the brown of fields being weeded out by circles of women and children harvesting potatoes. It is difficult to tell where one village ends and another begins, where one line can be drawn separating one country from another. The colour of sarson does not change across invisible lines.. Women on both sides sit slogging under covered heads. They also live and love the same way. I am on my way to meet one woman who has travelled. She has dared, crossed the border to marry a man living in Qadian where not long ago lived both their fathers and mothers sharing the fruits of the earth and a strong faith. It was sadly the faith that shattered the roof over their heads. This house, with steep stone steps, has withstood time and partition. Those who live in it are among the 300-odd families who did not migrate to Pakistan in l947. It is the son of this family, a well-loved journalist in the area, who is being married. The house does not have the festive look that one associates with marriages—no music, little festivity, not many gaily dressed women. Conspicuous in embroidered vests and embroidered caps, the kind that are crafted in Sindh and Kutch, are young boys who move around offering squares of white mithai from a solitary tray. Few women are around. They are inside with the bride who is inside being readied. I never see her.. I get a glimpse of the groom, garbed in a raw silk shalwar-kurta, a topi tilted over his head, moving amidst the Press reporters and photographers who have gathered to record his feat. After all, he had the patience to wait three-long years for this moment. His wife-to-be waited too. But she is confined to the interiors with women who never tell their stories. The few women I see are garbed in a black burqa-like garment. The shimmer perhaps lies within I tell myself. The two sisters of the groom I meet look austere in black. They are sad as their father is no longer alive to witness this long-awaited marriage. And the mother is paralysed. Making up the lack, as if, is the large gathering. lit up by the politicians, the police officials, the local leaders, the Press and. the community. Filling up for the absent sister of the bride is the daughter of a Sikh lady doctor, who is garbed in orange and gold herself to befit the image of a happy mother. The father's role is being performed by the head of the jamaat who is austere in a black sherwani In a solemn voice he recites verses from the Koran, pronouces the nikaah and accepts the Yes of the groom in the presence of an all-men's gathering. The bride is still in the interiors. He will later go to her and seek her Yes. I am the lone woman in this gathering of men witnessing the ceremony. No eyebrows are raised, no men, not even the young boys, cast curious glances at me. They seem different from the men of the same faith I have seen elsewhere. But they are not really Muslims I have
been told.. They are Qadianis, heretics from the faith. A resolution
passed by the parliament of Pakistan on a dark September day in 1974
pronounced them non-Muslims. For they believe that Mirza Ghulam Ahmed is
the Messiah. But the law endorses that a person who does not believe in
the absolute and unqualified prophethood of Muhammad and claims himself
to be a prophet in any sense of the word is not a Muslim. Talking to
some of them I get a feeling that they are as Muslim, if not more, in
their spirit. The man who takes me around the old complex where the
Mosque Aqsa was raised tells me that his work is to serve the Ahmadiya jamaat.
He has committed his life to the work. Also committed his two young
sons to serve the jamaat. He is content with what little he
earns. I wonder if his two boys, now studying in a regular school
exposed to the new aspirations and gaudier dreams, accept the frugality
of life that he has. "I have left it to them to make their
decision. That is in accordance with the teaching of the Koran,"
he says. The same simplicity, bordering on austerity is all around -
the way the men and women are dressed, their open faces, their readiness
to reach out and help a visitor, their stark commitment to the teachings
of their founder. The hujra where he lived, meditated and wrote
books is an empty space without any signs of deification—no flowers,
no incense burning, no one praying. Even the Heavenly tomb is bare. In
the Bahisti Maqbara, the graveyard where lie buried the members
of the founder's family are graves of mitti not stone or marble.
Tones of earthly paradise—trees, flowers, groves of mango and fig
surround. And around the mosque with its shimmering white minaret rising
above the landscape are small white rooms that house offices for welfare
of women and youth, an office that settles all community disputes, an
officewhere funds for the jamaat are collected, a library where
visitors are welcomed and provided information. The men who work are
gentle, ready to help. Nothing about their demeanour suggests a heretic
temperament Qadian does not seem as formidable as I had imagined. Coming
here has helped me cross my own border. A place that had acquired dark
dimensions in my mind feels friendly, accessible. If a faith can survive
in such an environment it can never be a threat I tell myself as I watch
people of all faiths gathering for the marriage and a belated Eid-Milan.... |
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Woman with a vision In an exclusive interview, after winning her 22nd award, Sudha Murthy talks of her projects and vision to Peeyush Agnihotri THE wives of the rich and affluent can be graded into two categories—one who just sit back and bask in their husband’s glory and the other who themselves work so hard that they match their spouse’s reputation grain by grain. Sudha Murthy, the better half of Infosys Chairman Narayana Murthy, falls in the latter category. She has chosen the path of philanthropy and as the Chairperson of the Infosys Foundation is making the lives of the underprivileged section of the society comfortable. Last week, she was honoured with the prestigious Pinnamaneni and Seeta Devi Foundation Award for the year 2003 in recognition for her work in the fields of education and health care. The award comprises a purse of Rs 1 lakh and a citation. Incidentally, it is the 22nd professional award that she has received as a philanthropist and a litterateur! Besides being interested in social work, she is smitten by the writer’s bug too. Attimabbe Award for her technical book in Kannada, Computer for School Children and Gorur Award for her collection of short stories, Uncommon characters among common people bear a testimony to this fact. Sudha describes her work:"We have started a unique project for the village schools called Library Project, which has been the first of its kind in the history of education in Karnataka, Maharashtra and Orissa. More than 10,000 libraries have been set up so far and every year large amount is donated towards the educational assistance of the brilliant but poor students. Besides this, more than 600 computers have been donated to the schools across the rural village areas, under the banner of Infosys," she says. This Leo lady (DOB August 19) is truly lion-hearted. Her list of donations and achievements runs into a couple of pages. Notable among them in the health sector are donations of ventilators to KMC Govt. Hospital, Hubli, two ultra-sound systems to Bowring & Lady Curzon Hospital, passenger van to Sowmanasya, a home for the mentally retarded in Dharwad, air-conditioning of the entire burns ward at Victoria Hospital, Bangalore, construction of the isolation ward for children in Bellary and computerisation of KEM Hospital, Mumbai. "We have opened up a new development sector in SAS Nagar, Punjab, and are currently surveying the area. Depending upon the survey report, we plan to start full-fledged operations in the North region by 2005," she discloses. Herself a gold-medallist and a topper in M.Tech (computer science) from Indian Institute of Science, Bangalore, literacy ranks high on her agenda. "Education is a big facilitator. Our effort as literacy facilitators should be to start at the bottom of the social pyramid and not the top. Kerala has no reported case of polio simply because it is the state with the highest rate of literacy," she says. "Making general masses in India
literate is a mammoth task. It is not a one-man’s (or an organisation’s)
job. Collective efforts from the corporate sector, the government and
the people in general are needed to educate the masses," she adds.
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Survival strategies Things haven’t improved significantly for women travellers, despite promises by the travel trade to change attitudes and practices. There is a lot of lip service but little real change, says Mohinder Singh. WOMEN travelling on business face particular problems: Harassment, humiliation, loneliness, discomfort, danger. And things haven’t improved significantly, despite promises by the travel trade to change attitudes and practices — a lot of lip service but little real change. This is borne out in a survey conducted recently by Total Research Corporation of Princeton, New Jersey, reflecting the views of 217 frequent women travellers in the United States and 136 in the United Kingdom. Even though women account for a growing proportion of business travellers — 40 per cent in the USA and over 20 per cent in UK they say they are still not getting a fair deal. They continue to face indifference and disdain, if not rampant sexism, by airline, hotel and car-rental staff. Women believe they receive inferior service because of their gender. Many choose room service in hotels because they feel intimidated. No wonder, a move is afoot to set up special hotels exclusively for women. Zurich, for example, now has one, hotel Lady’s First, a hotel for female guests only. The hotel has been specially planned for business women who want a relaxing stay in Zurich. And now, even some Indian hotels keep a particular floor, deemed the safest and most convenient, for unaccompanied lady guests. Personal safety being an overriding concern, a majority of respondents said that airlines must make secure arrangements for women travellers when planes are delayed or arrive very late at night. They also said that hotels should pay more attention to giving women more secure rooms away from stair-wells and elevators. And they want airports to provide a security presence at taxi stands late at night. In hotels, room design should be more woman-friendly. For example, there should be a socket within hairdryer’s reach of a mirror and proper ironing facilities. In choosing a hotel, smaller is better; you want the staff to be familiar with guests and with you. The smaller the lobby, the more noticeable the loiterers.
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Parent perfect Left to themselves, little boys will chase a butterfly as excitedly as tiny girls will roar back at a caged lion. But, almost imperceptibly, gender stereotypes begin to fashion this natural bond on socially acceptable lines, says Chetna Keer Banerjee. THE other day, a child was plucking roses in a park. Watching her son pinching off their petals and stamping over them with impish glee, the mother immediately ticked him off. "No, don't pluck and crush the flowers like this," she reprimanded him. For saying this, she got rebuked instead. By the child's father, that is. "Do you want to make him into a sissy? Boys are like this," he defended the son. This interchange nudged some uneasy questions into my mind: Are there gender stereotypes even in the man-nature relationship? And are such stereotypes and mindsets a failure particularly on the part of one nurturer, the mother, in nurturing a sensitivity towards the bigger nurturer—Mother Nature? So many men are brought up on the notion that it is "unmanly" to show tenderness, least of all to things as ‘inconsequential’ as plants, flowers, dolls and the like. Their macho responses are, to a large extent, born out of the stereotyping that is done from early childhood. Boys are taught to be rough and tough. It's okay even if they have a destructive streak. It's "normal" if boys break toys, kick animals or trample over beds of flowers. Many is the time that I've held my breath and cringed with hurt as boys in the neighbourhood mindlessly jump over my flower beds, crush my freshly planted lettuce leaves to zilch or knock off my pots. Boys will be boys, I'm often told. True, both nature and nurture shape a child's attitudes. Nurture alone cannot be blamed for genetically acquired behavioural differences between boys and girls. But nurture does play an important role in defining a child's bonding with nature. In early childhood, almost all kids, be they boys or girls, display a similar interest and excitement upon exploring their natural surroundings. The universal enthusiasm that zoo visits and nature walks generate among tiny tots is initially unspoilt by gender influences. Gentleness towards domestic pets and tenderness towards plants and trees in the home garden comes naturally to most kids. That is, till they begin to unlearn this 'soft' behaviour by watching and emulating their role models. My little boy had never thought of tweaking off the foliage of my indoor plants till he saw grown-up boys yanking off leaves and twigs from outdoor trees. Finding my floor strewn with leaves from my ornamental plants became a common sight after that. It stopped only after I explained to my son that the 'mummy plant' cried every time he plucked her 'babies'. Left to themselves, little boys will chase a butterfly as excitedly as tiny girls will roar back at a caged lion. But, almost imperceptibly, adult role icons begin to fashion this natural bond on socially acceptable lines. Nurture soon becomes the nanny that comes to govern this hitherto spontaneous outing with Nature. Slowly and silently, butterflies start belonging more to girls and roaring to boys. How many girls are encouraged to grow up into Jane Goodalls, wedded to a life with chimpanzees instead of being expected to devote their time to pots 'n' pans or patis? Parents, usually mothers, begin drilling early on into little girls that they look 'proper' simply flitting around flowers or chasing sparrows and that it’s ‘un-ladylike’ for them to be swinging from trees or scampering after beasts? Heaven save a girl who loves spending her leisure time not with a doll's house but in an animal pen or a stable! "Is kudi naal kaun vyah karega?" the elders at home begin clucking their tongues in disapproval. But a rowdy boy's marriage prospects don't dim if he spends hours teasing frogs in and out of puddles or even kicking stray dogs or pelting stones at harmless roadside cattle! More than anyone else, it is a mother who can prevent her children from getting stuck in gender-specific behavioural grooves. It is she who plays the primary role in sensitising the progeny towards nature, to all its creations, to all its beauty. I know a mother who takes her little son outdoors to soak with gay abandon in the first shower of monsoon. Mother and son gaze with child-like wonder as the tears dripping from the gloomy sky slowly ebb and it breaks into a dazzling smile of rainbow-tinted colours. Another mother makes her boy scatter grains for the pigeons on their terrace every morning. Then there are those parents who've promised their son a fish aquarium for his birthday in place of the Pokemon game that he'd been clamouring for. If most mothers didn't yield to their kids' demands for G-I Joes or WWF cards and instead got them friendly little rabbits or parrots as companions, today's brat pack wouldn't acquire half the violent behaviour they learn from negative play icons. I hope that I, as a mother, can steer
my growing son towards an abiding friendship with the creatures of
nature—the pigeons or the butterflies that come flying into our
verandah—instead of the meaningless tazos and Pokemon cards he's begun
seeking out. If having mynas as playmates will make him any less macho
than playing with wrestlers’ cards will, so be it. |
THE
landscape stretches endlessly—miles of earth, brooding and rippling by
turns—the gold of sarson, more assertive than the brown of
fields being weeded out by circles of women and children harvesting
potatoes. It is difficult to tell where one village ends and another
begins, where one line can be drawn separating one country from another.
THE
other day, a child was plucking roses in a park. Watching her son
pinching off their petals and stamping over them with impish glee, the
mother immediately ticked him off. "No, don't pluck and crush the
flowers like this," she reprimanded him. For saying this, she got
rebuked instead.
