Elegy

I valued you only when I bade you adieu If I had another chance, I would've

breathed you deeper

the years ended... in just a moments few

My freedom -

I didn't answer, and I didn't explain

I lived like a human..., no.., a man!

My music -

Your form is changed

You neither lull, nor liven

I look for you

a tune somewhere, or a lilt hidden.

My friends -

I loved and laughed

You'll be with me, when alone I cry

In a sea of strangers and snowstorms in the sky.

My self -

I laboured and birthed

Toiled for your form

You were my pride!

Now I bury you - a cold corpse...

unwept, unwreathed.

Embellishing the Basic - Food (with all its sauces)

Embellishing the basic - this is probably a fundamental human tendency, but it made me think of the possible reasons. No, its not an opulence-austerity judgement I'm trying to make here. Its something else. Its how a basic need goes to become a social event, a celebration even. How it grows around itself appropriate codes, conduct and context to govern it.

Lets take food for instance. Scientifically, a basic need to sustain life. So simple... and objective! When and how, then, did it become what it is??

The connotations of food are as varied as any socio-normative paradigm can conjure - limitless almost!

For one, it is how we celebrate - the feasts for a festival, the birthday cake, the spread at a wedding; it is how we mourn - the fasts, the lents, abstinence from meats. It becomes an expression of love between a mother and her baby. It is the mark of social class, of religion, and of caste.

In different societies and different contexts, extravagance and austerity in food assume differntial values - while vegetarianism (and hence austerity in a way) is a mark of the upper caste and therefore, often denotes a "more evolved" state of being in Hindu society, the extravaganza of a wedding feast is what avers the social status of a family.

At Mughal durbars, there were upto 80 dishes and delicacies served at banquets for royal guests. Moreover, the number of items was directly proportional to the social hierarchy of the guest. It was common to serve 80 dishes to a Maharajah and 70 to a British Governor-General at the same dinner table! Here food becomes a mark of respect, and acknowledgement of ones power and title.

The food eaten by one religious community is haraam for another. The pork-beef tussle is legendary in this. The poor animals who died for the cause of a good meal would cringe at the number of human lives they have claimed through communal riots. Infact, wasn't the 1857 Mutiny a result of these food taboos?!

In the absence of the pious who are well versed with the basis (and books) of their peity, food becomes a proxy symbol...oh, and so much easier as well - its just a matter of eating 'this', not eating 'that', and going absolutely ballistic if 'that' is eaten or served in your presence!

Food also becomes the mode of aculturation. It is common to see dominant cultural groups impress (and impose) minorities through the food route - foods, ways of eating, and methods of cooking. While interesting fusion food cuisines have emerged in more recent times with the masala chai shorbet, we cannot disregard the most relished impositions of the Central Asian kebabs and pilafs by the Mughals and the Portuguese sorpatel and bebinca on Indian palates. The British, thankfully, could not conquer much on the food front... the Indian palate is probably far more discerning and resilient than the Indian mind!

The ban on cow slaughter and therefore, on beef consumption in certain parts of the country - affecting food practices of the thousands of tribal groups, and an active promotion of vegetarianism through recommended dietary allowances and calorie requirements for the country, are again aculturation - sanskritisation.

Then there is the whole world of food taboos and the preparation and consumption of food. The classification of foods as hot and cold has its basis from Ayurvedic texts. Food was the cure, and to be consumed based on body types, seasons and emotional/social states. Widowed women often do not eat meat, onion and garlic in otherwise non-vegetarian Hindu households as they are 'hot' foods causing sexual heat!

The stronghold of caste is exerted on food like in no other aspect of life. Who cooks the food, and therefore, who can consume it, is determined by caste. Eating food cooked or touched by a person of the 'lower' caste will require elaborate (and often barbaric) rituals to sanctify the victim Brahman. Here food becomes the mode of purity and pollution.

Then, of course, there is the order of eating food - the patriarch and the men first, the children and then the women. Food now becomes the protector of patriarchy and social order.

Food today has perhaps become more "embellished" (to use my original term) than ever before. Its so much less of a basic necessesity today (with more economic abundance around), and so much more of everything else it could possibly ever be! Your knowledge and palate for gourmet and exotic cuisines determines your cool quotient; the dinner destination determines the fate of the date; and the 'ladies who lunch' thrives on exclusivity. To think of it, food was the basis of imperialism - the spice trade is what tingled Europe's taste buds at first; and then it was food that has become the most powerful symbol of globalisation - in the form of the not-so-humble hamburger by omnipresent McDonalds.

With so much riding on it - from social status to faith, purity and love, kingdoms political and corporate, is it a surprise that food has to be embellished - it has to look irresistable...good enough to eat!

Isis

For I am the first and the last. I am the honoured one and the scorned one I am the whore and the holy one.

I am the wife and the virgin. I am the mother and the daughter. I am the members of my mother. I am the barren one and many are my sons. I am she whose wedding is great, and I have not taken a husband. I am the midwife and she who does not bear. I am the solace of my pains. I am the bride and the bridegroom, and it is my husband who begot me.

Illusion and reality.

Everything and nothing you can ever be. I am the mother of my father and the sister of my husband, and he is my offspring.... Give heed to me. I am the one who is disgraced and the great one.

Whether Karma or Kismet?

According to the 10th card of the major arcana - the wheel of fortune - everything is cyclical...If this is the explanation, complications and curiosities arise.

Are life events completely out of one’s control? Could I have led a different life? If I had made one different choice, would it have been all different – the idea of karma? Or would they have happened one way or the other - the idea of kismet?

What happens in my life is more or less the same. The themes are constant, the context changing.

Well, this then, seems like kismet. The same themes in this life and previous ones. The goals that I sought are the same – love, happiness, equity and freedom. These are actually not as grand as they sound. When it’s not political, but personal, these are simple pursuits. Everyone desires them. My battles are also the same – struggles and rebellion towards achieving those goals.

I hurt for the same reasons – the same betrayal, the fundamentalism, the hegemony of organised religion, the patriarchy. Again, these are not grand, but are phenomena that subsume and devour my identity. Or push me to the margins, sometimes the victim, sometimes the witch, sometimes whore.

Whether it’s a young newly married woman in Celtic France, driven to suicide trying to convince the love of her life about her fidelity; or the young girl who grew up to become a cold cynic after being betrayed a hundred times over; or the pagan woman in sixteenth century Spain willing herself to die to escape from the atrocities of the Church; or the strong independent woman being thrown out of her house on grounds of religion and gender in a so-called modern cosmopolitan society; or the young intelligent attractive woman, still looking for love and acceptance.

The themes are the same. Maybe this soul is bound to undergo these same experiences, same scripts, same emotions.

Regression explains this by stating “closure”. The soul needs closure of pent up emotions, unresolved feelings, unfulfilled desires, interrupted happiness, incomplete revenge or incomplete forgiveness.

This brings us back to karma. Not necessarily only of actions, but of memories and emotions. The wheel of fortune turns to remind us of what we had done and what we need to do. The “hell” is not some fabled burning pit, but the cyclical scripts of lives. The heaven is not through some improbable pearly gates, but in breaking this cycle, transcending these scripts and finding peace.

Till then it’s a continuing debate of whether karma or kismet…

For the love of monotony!

"May you live in interesting times.." is a Chinese curse. I coudn't agree more! - with the fact that it is a curse, I mean. Well, change is good, the only constant - as the cliche goes; the ups and downs and the variety that add spice to our lives...but there's nothing more I crave than monotony. The comfort of the predictable, the straight line without blips - the sizes ranging from mole hills to mountains in my life! I know I can't take stagnation, and I feel stagnated every quarter. So I should be the the last person to say I crave monotony. The condradiction in this is evident, bordering on schizophrenia. The constant change, growth, ambition, activity, Type A personality have probably reached the peak and is now gowing down... the adrenaline rush is bound to be followed by a parasympathetic trough. That is probably what this is. A simple physiological phenomenon. Well, atleast if this is the explanation, I'm at peace. People go through mid-life crises and do things that often shake up their entire beautifully well laid out clockwork lives. The escape from monotony at any cost. The reassurances that we seek through change. Attention from a different man/woman after decades of a committed relationship reassures us of our appeal and sexuality, the change of a job or career reassures us of our skills and abilities. A crazy hairstyle sometimes is enough to reassure us. I know some women who change hairstyles right after breaking up with a boyfriend. This is for reassurance and resurgence: "I am still attractive and lovable".... (and at the same time) "this is the new me" (subtext- who will not date losers like these!!) This is ironic. Change, that shakes up and shatters the world as we know it, can be so reassuring at times. I, in my crises, want monotony. I seek it for the same reassurance and resurgence, though. The parasympathetic trough is now reached tidal proportions and is impatient to reach the stability and predictability. But this is again the same craving for change and movement from the current constant, isn't it? The schizophrenic contradictions recur...

The Personal is Political...and the Political Personal

My recent experiences have just proved that the "personal is political" - beyond doubt!

Or perhaps even the other way round. Concepts, experiences and theories that I have engaged with in an academic or ideological capacity are suddenly very real, affecting my life in a direct way.

I should perhaps start with the tribulations of renewing my passport. My passport issued previously in Guwahati had expired in April, 2010. I applied for a new passport on April 8. I am tempted to describe my horrific date with the passport office, experiencing bureaucracy at its monopolistic best, but I will not go into that recount.

Anyway, so I applied for a Bombay passport, since I have not lived in Guwahati for 10 years now, and out of those, 7 have been in Bombay. With all documents ever possible. Infact I had to wait about 6 months just so that I complete a year at the same address to make me eligible for a Bombay passport.

After the 4 stipulated days, a police constable came home at around 11 am to verify my address and the fact that I exist as a person! I was of course, not there at home in the middle of the day on a working day. But well....

He told my sister how difficult it would be to get a passport, since I am only a tenant.

The next day I took leave to meet the cop. He came over. I showed overflowing hospitality (as instructed by experienced friends!). Here a drink or money was advised. But I obviously I couldn't offer alcohol (being a woman!), neither did I feel I could offer money without getting atleast an indirect hint (although I finally did pay at a later date to get the work done).

He went through all my papers. Seemed satisfied. The only problem was the fact that I did not own the house, neither was I living at my parents' house, nor was it my husband's house! This became quite an issue. My references in the neighbourhood was my colleague who has known me for about 4 years - a 33 year old unmarried female vice president, and the other one is of my dearest friends who has known me for 7 years - a 34 year old gay man.

The cop insisted I cite references who were "married" with "family" in the vicinity... and I realised that I don't know any such people!

The fact of being married assumed a completely skewed sense of significance. The fact of knowing, or not knowing, married people who can vouch for me, compromised my credibility.

Somehow the whole process almost became a verification of my character as a woman - a single woman - than of my citizenship.

The other ordeal came from my apartment building society. Being in a conservative Muslim housing society, both me and my sister were offensive just by virtue (pun intended!!) of our existence. We didn't even have to try! No matter what clothes we wore, we would seem strangely naked - we were not veiled; we went out to work and came back at times dictated by our work not familial deadlines - that was offensive; we had friends, male friends - which was even more offensive.

One of the watchmen misbehaved first with my sister (about which I complained), and then with me when I returned one night at about 1 am to find him sleeping and him threatening to not open the gate. I did remind him, quite scathingly, about the fact that it was his job as a watchman to open the gate, irrespective of what time any of the residents came home.

The next night I returned home to find a letter STUCK on my front door (and not delivered at the doorstep in an addressed envelope like the million letters that I have received), asking my licensor to terminate my leave and license agreement. The reason cited was my altercation with the watchman - apparently I had threatened him with some unidentified men. The letter further made nasty and vile insinuations on my character as an unmarried woman.

Although in retrospect, I should have expected the housing society to support the watchman (or probably even incite him to misbehave as a coercive tactic to get rid of me), it did come as a rude shock at that moment!

I met the secretary of the society the next morning. Nothing was done - either about correcting the false incident, or against the watchman. I wrote a letter inquiring the reasons for the discrimination - why on the basis of a verbal complaint from a watchman was a judgement passed against me, and why nothing was done on the basis of my complaint against the same watchman.

But I knew these were rhetorics.

I knew there was a much larger agenda in getting rid of a woman like me - an independent unmarried woman. There were no personal reasons for this animosity, but political ones. I was, to begin with, a Hindu woman in a Muslim society. Over and above, I was not a Hindu housewife, but unmarried and unveiled. I was a constant reminder - a slap on their faces - of the symbols that they were trying to destroy and repress. I embodied all that was haraam!

Both these sets of experiences would have been avoided if I was a married woman. I realised that status in the state and the society can only be attained through prescribing to conventions and institutions. And status for an unmarried woman is never devoid of morality. By being unattached within the parameters of marriage, I give the authority to both the state and the society to pass judgement on my "moral character".

The personal, truly is political... and the political becomes too personal!

An Inquiry into the Feminine Principle

It is of little wonder why the concept of the feminine has survived even after strategic and concerted efforts to destroy it, or to tame it in certain cases. It is also of little wonder why these efforts have persisted.

First to take the second issue. The feminine is threatening! It is a contradiction to the very basis of our social organisation - patriarchy. Here I do not mean dominance of men over women, but rather the dominance of all masculine over all feminine - of positivisms over phenomenologies, of rationality over creativity; of economies over cosmologies.

It is the need to be uniform that drives society today, not the need to be free. The freedom is notional, subscribing clearly to prescribed definitions, not amenable to individual interpretations. This is the only way how the masculine can prevail and thrive. Sameness, rationality, solidity are its pillars.

The basis of all institutions in society today is this principle of the masculine. The state, the government, marriages, economies, religions... thats how they are sustained.

The feminine principle is about freedom. It is not necessarily the contradiction of the masculine, but just the freedom to BE.

Creativity, expression, emotion are fluid concepts. They cannot hold things together in the same way that sameness, rationality and solidity do. They themselves are beyond definition, abmiguous... Being boundless, limitless, they cannot be the basis for rigidity.

Within the divine feminine, space exists for every being, for every identity. There is no conflict, as the basis is acceptance of existence. The celebration of life in all its forms and experiences. It is not about taking sides, but of maintaining the balance of life. Of oneness, but not sameness. It is a continuum without compartments. Life and death both become the same experience - one being "oneness" with the world, and the other "oneness" with the other-world. The principle is of energy - shakti (the personification of which is the Goddess).

For hierarchies and materialism to survive, the masculine principle has to dominate. Only if there is "one truth" can there be an outgroup, the "other". Only if there is an "other" can finite resources be owned and powers be maintained. Only if powers are contained in that "one truth" can there be structure and stratification in society - the basis of good governance!

This explains the concerted efforts since centuries (atleast since the begining of "civilisation" and more so since the end of the "Dark Ages") to destroy the feminine principle.

It is seen as a threat to the structure and solidity of organised, civilised society. It is a threat to the preservation of power within compartments.

The acceptance of all expression and of all choice will render most of politics and perhaps all of economics redundant. This is seen as the begining of all anarchy - a return to, for instance, paganism over cleanly organised religion! It will signify the common ownership of resources, leading to a failure in creating wealth!

The feminine principle, however, will survive - as long as there is life. This is because the very principle of life is based on the divine feminine. The energy for survival, the co-existence and co-dependence with all other beings and energies, innovations, creativities, freedoms, choice, rights...all allude to the feminine principle striving to be re-established.