An Open Letter - to men in particular, but to us all

I cannot shake the pain in my heart that has lodged itself there after news that the young paramedic gangraped in Delhi finally succumbed to her brutal attack. Thoughts - so many, so varied - keep flashing through my head, the driving sense being - how have we allowed a world where this can happen? Where have we as women, men, parents, relatives, friends slipped up, so we live in a world where young men can brutalise a woman as part of their bonding?

From all accounts, it does not seem to me that the young men who committed the rape were sociopaths or psychopaths. They were young men out to have a good time together - as so many young men are. Part of that good time was harassing a girl out with her male friend. Part of that good time was standing together to beat up the boy who stood up for his friend. Part of that good time was raping the girl together. Part of that good time was brutalising that girl together to teach her a lesson because she was too spirited and fought back. I doubt they went home with huge feelings of guilt and horror. They may even have boasted to their friends. Certainly they were happy to leave the boy and girl on the highway, with no thought to whether they lived or died - in their eyes, the young boy and girl were simply objects of their good time, not human beings.

I think what we really really have to take into account is that these were just young men out to have a good time.

And so here is my open letter to all my male friends.
And I hope my female friends read closely too, for what I have to say often applies to them as well.

My friends,

At this horrible moment in our shared history, can you take a moment to stop and reflect, and to ask yourself if you have been complicit in creating this gender-unequal world?

I'd like to share with you some memories and experiences that might help in this reflection.

I am in Class XI or Class XII. A rumour flies around that a certain girl has given a certain boy a blowjob. My close male friend terms her a slut. The boy is termed nothing. I have a fight with my friend - why is she a slut and not he? If its okay for him to receive a blowjob, then what's wrong about her giving it? He refuses to engage in the conversation. My close male friend remains my close male friend till date. I wonder today if he will understand my point of view.

I am at a gathering - at many gatherings - and a girl comes into view - hot or not. The boys comment on her breasts, her looks, they rate her and laugh together. They bond, they feel closer. To us women, the way they do this feels cheap. There is a difference between appreciating the natural hotness of a person and objectifying someone. In the latter case, the personhood of that person disappears for the people commenting - they become oblivious to her feelings, to the fact that she is another human being, like them. Some of us women dismiss it, saying boys are like that. Others object - why do you guys need to be so cheap? The guys tell us that we take things too seriously, that they are only having a bit of fun. If we persist, they fall into the familiar male form of attack - start making fun of the person who is saying uncomfortable things so that you don't have to take them seriously, so that you can retain your position of dominance. In the interests of friendship and the gathering, we finally back off ... no point, we say to ourselves and each other. And we even say, its only harmless fun, let it be, they don't mean anything by it. We'll just go to the other end of the room and have our own conversation.

I talk to girls who like to dress attractively. I talk to others about girls who like to dress attractively. I hear how their boyfriends, husbands, brothers get upset with the way they dress. The argument is always in two parts:
1. Why are you dressing like a slut?
2. Don't you realise what men are like, they will behave cheaply with you.
I wonder why the first question has to sit with the second. If the boyfriend/husband/brother was really just concerned with men misbehaving, is there not a respectful conversation to be had? 'We are going to a place where the guys look at women cheaply. It may be uncomfortable for you if you dress like that - do you want to think about it?' And then leave the choice to the woman. And still stand up for her if someone misbehaves, rather than say, 'I told you the guys were cheap, why did you dress that way?'

My friends - have you every been party to any of the above scenarios, or similar scenarios? And if you have, can you stop and reflect? Can you ask yourself, deeply and honestly, if you bear any responsibility in changing the way the world functions towards women? And can you begin to make the small changes in your own actions?

If you do, you will be standing with us, you will be standing against this rape and millions of other acts of violence, sexual or otherwise, towards women.

If you don't, do not imagine that by taking part in protests, or making public statements, or saying the right words, you stand with us. As long as you treat us unequally, you are complicit in the world that let's young boys rape and brutalise for fun. And I for one am no longer going to walk away saying, boys are like that. I will remind you, each time, and risk losing your friendship. And I hope my female friends will too.

Sameera

Badal Sircar passes away

I just got the news 5 minutes back that Badal-da passed away yesterday. My first response is one of utter sadness and much gratitude - he was the first playwright who fired my imagination of what an 'Indian' play could be ... and while his Michchil was not the first play I directed, it was the first play that challenged me to really think through the various possibilities of theatre.

Over time, I realised how much Badal-da also influenced theatre across India in his time. When I went to Chennai, I heard how one of their defining workshops for contemporary Indian theatre was with Badal-da. And I kept hearing that across so many cities of this country. He was creating his theatre, setting new trends, in an exciting time when he, Satyadev Dubey, and so many others were talking to each other across the country and trying to really define what it meant to be doing theatre in independent India, as an independent Indian. They did not try to come up with a monolithic way of doing theatre - but the contributions of each of them have powerfully defined so much of our theatre today. Badal-da's Michchil, Ebong Indrajit, Bashi Khabar and more, rate as modern theatre classics.

My second response, soon after my first one, is of anger. Badal-da may have influenced, changed, set new directions for theatre in India, but we do not have a setup in this country that can recognise and honour and look after such a person. I hope I am not insulting anyone by saying this, but over the years, I always heard of how difficult things were for Badal-da. In the last few years, a few independent bodies and festivals honoured him and gave him support - but really, as we lose our theatre greats one after another - a very special generation is going ... Habib Tanvir passed away, Shyamanand Jalan passed away, now its Badal-da - my blood boils each time. There is absolutely no setup to give dignity and ease to these people who have made enormous contribution to India. Habib saab had to run after his government grant till the end. How dare we be a country like this? And how dare we think we can be counted amongst the best when we do not know how to respect, look after, take care of, our geniuses.

No apology can be great enough Badal-da ... I hope we will be better with your memory than we were with you while you were alive. And I hope we will learn to give those who follow the respect and care that is their due, in their lifetime.

Parveen Sultana - truth in art

For all that I am a theatre person, perhaps the closest proof that there is divinity lies in music. I've just returned from a concert by Parveen Sultana - some madness made me buy a ticket I could not afford - and I feel truly blessed for it.

I've heard her on CD ... but to be there, in the concert hall, hearing that voice - that huge voice - come out of her with such tremendous ease, slide up and down the scales, octaves ... I don't know, I'm a music ignoramus, but her voice climbs and drops, gets loud and quiet, slips from one end to the other, fills the hall, resounds, resonates, envelopes you, gets into you, fills your breath ... just takes you. Just before her show someone remarked that her experiences with divinity were usually with Parveen Sultana ... and if there is something called divinity, certainly this is it.

To be in the presence of an artist who gives herself up to her art - who lets the music become her - it is an experience in humility and truth. I don't know how else to put it. But the purity of the experience is amazing. This is perhaps the truth of art. And as I watch Parveen Sultana forget herself, sing with her voice, her arms, her entire body - as I watch the lack of 'show' that we have got so used to with pop performances - I find myself thinking that there is a truth here that we get to see so rarely - where the art is all, and the art is in offering to something higher ... where when the artist performs, the artist forgets her ego and is no longer herself but only her art. To see Parveen Sultana sing is an experience. She literally launches herself into her song .... song is too small a word. Its like she stands on the edge and dives. And flies. And there are no limits. And there is no time.

I am out of words.

Drawing a blank

I made this blog because there was something I wanted to say, at least to myself ... of course, now that I've gone through the process of setting it up, I've completely forgotten what it was that I wanted to say. So here I begin .... with a blank!

However, finally, I am accepting that writing clarifies thought - though it does not begin thought for me. Maybe I will become a blogger. Or maybe, if some unfortunate comes by my page at any future point in time, this will remain the only post! Let us see ....!