A bit too much of ‘brotherly’ love

Geetanjali Gayatri

Haryana’s disdain for the fair sex is no secret. The now-improving sex ratio, ‘honour’ killings and the diktats of the khaps together bear testimony to the patriarchal mindset. Years of reporting in the state have thrown up many such occasions where men don’t understand till you show them their place.

It was about the time when the BJP had just assumed power in Haryana. The first-timers were walking on air and the veterans didn’t have their feet on the ground. Power has a certain smell to it and, in a patriarchal state it carried a pungency that came from being a man.

After a press conference, a newly-inducted minister announced during tea that he followed the tradition of giving ‘shagun’ to his younger sisters on special occasions. I soon realised that the three women journalists, including me, were the ‘sisters’. I was aghast as he made his way to one journalist, then another. They accepted the 

Rs 100 each he pulled out of his pocket and placed in their hands. Maybe they were too shocked to react. Maybe they did not want to insult him. My mind was spinning with how not to lose my cool and how to respond! As the minister approached me, I politely refused. Men, of course, hardly ever understand that a no means a no. He smiled and urged me to accept the ‘blessings’. I refused and walked away to where tea was being served.

Conscious that everybody was watching the drama, he followed me. His tone was imploring now. He sounded condescending, as he ‘sistered’ me a little, realising it was making me livid. He continued and I got tired of smiling. I glowered, ‘I’m not your sister and I am not here in the capacity of a woman. I am here as a journalist and you better understand that. Don’t follow me around!’ I said as stunned silence fell around me and the minister backed off.

However, a woman leader approached me a while later and expressed her displeasure, telling me that he was only giving his blessings in the form of a small token. I should have accepted it graciously.

By then, my humour had returned. I asked her if I really had been that hurtful. She replied in the affirmative. She must have been clearly unprepared for what I said next. ‘I got married 11 years back. I got no dowry. I will give you my address. Since I have hurt him so much despite being his younger sister, I will make up for this. Please convey to him that I will willingly accept a truckload of whatever household items he wants to send.’ Stunned silence again.

That was the last I heard from him when it came to brotherly love.