When it is that-time-of-the-year again, you know, that
uncomfortable time of the year, heralded by a restless feeling, accentuated by
several mood swings and a pang – a pang in my lower abdomen that tends to
become a knot of discomfort. It is called the International Women’s Day in my
calendar.
For those of you unaware, I have managed to shed off the
cloak of disclaimers with my last piece and with this one I intend to take it
up a notch, throw a stone at the beehive and risk being stung! All in an
attempt to project: the greater good of course.
I have reservations regarding the term feminism - strong,
visceral reservations. I may add that I have been branded as an anti-feminist
in multiple demographics for my rather crude and often insensitive (guilty!)
remarks revolving this school of thought. I did try to be helpful by suggesting
an alternative term to those nice ladies out there I had managed to rudely
offend in the past, that the term they were perhaps looking for was anti-chauvinist
but to no avail. It did not deter them from treating me as their enemy and I am
not exactly sure I would be making more friends through this present attempt of
mine. My impertinence must be borne one last time here as I unload certain
things off my chest and my sardonic sense of humour too would probably not be
very ladylike, after all as Oscar Wilde had once blatantly stated ‘Nothing
spoils romance so much as a sense of humour in the woman.’ Based on this quote,
there is nothing romantic about this piece I am afraid.
Let me cut through the rhetoric and jump straight into phase
1 of my assertion: Why are we still changing last names? Actually, let me
rephrase. Why are respectable, college-educated, progressive women still
fiddling around with their identities? It was in the 1800s that Lucy Stone
decided to stand against it as part of her battle for women rights in the U.S.
and what had happened to her legacy? We have stoned the living daylights out of
it (pun very much intended), that’s what, and this has happened at the hands of
the so-called advanced, capable and privileged section of the population, with
United kingdom pioneering this motion under their umbrella of common law and
the rest of the educated world following suit. The clear evidence that this
ridiculous arrangement had been peacefully accepted by majority of women across
the world lies in the fact that it is still the norm today and anyone breaking
the mould has to rather justify herself.
Women only very recently in most countries have learnt to
understand that physical abuse is unacceptable, reportable if possible.
Domestic violence or a forceful intercourse (despite being lawfully married) is
unacceptable. Only just. Yet women across almost all demography do not seem to
see a lack of reasoning behind changing their last names. Why you ask – perhaps
because it is all too complicated - even if it is at the expense of their
self-respect, at the expense of their individuality and what of the sexist
inequality it encourages? Nothing.
Is it really that complicated to imagine a world where a person
exists solely as herself and not through her aliases of a mother, sister or
wife? The argument or contemplation over the fact that you inherit your
patrilineal surname or whether or not your children will be able to adopt it and
bear the torch of it in the future comes at a much later stage and is totally
irrelevant when it comes to your own identity. Let us focus on one thing at a
time. Let us grasp the true implication of the fact that if after all the
progress we have made in this world, we still voluntarily change the very first
thing about us people reckon with – our name, the truth unfortunately is that
we choose this existence and should be willing to accept the associated
complexities that come with this choice.
~~End
of Rebuke: Phase 1 ~~
While I leave you to ruminate over the issue addressed in
phase 1, I will allow a little break and like to engage you into an interesting
story: -
When I hear women today being extremely vocal about the power
struggle with their male counterparts or simply speak about a revolution, it
always remind me of Digamvari Debi and how she had managed to successfully
achieve nothing short of a revolution some odd 189 years ago!
See the Tagore clan’s history spans over more than 300
years. It was one of the most imminent families from Calcutta in colonial
India, a key influence in the Bengal Renaissance and produced both men and
women who were way ahead of their time. This story is about Dwarkanath Tagore,
born in 1794 and more importantly about the woman he married – Digamvari Debi –
paternal grandmother of the great poet Rabindranath Tagore.
Digamvari Debi, married at the age of 6, represents a milieu
when child marriage, polygamy and ‘sati’ were as real as the fact that women
were completely shunned from the outside world and forbidden from even a
glimpse at the sun. Their days were spent within the closed private chambers of
the house and their sole identity being that associated with their husband or
father. In a time and age, governed by a social structure as such, Digamvari
Debi accomplished a feat that changed the course of women’s lives in India
thereafter.
Anguished with her husband’s philandering ways with meat and
liquor, one night she had decided to out-step the social boundaries and witness
her husband’s activities at a social gathering first-hand. Her young daughter
and a few other female relatives of the house accompanied her to the garden house
that her husband had built to entertain guests, where she witnessed,
dumbfounded, her wayward husband, sharing a seat with foreigners, male and
female – both sahibs and memsahibs – drinking and submerged in an act of
debauchery. Upon failing on an attempt to revoke her husband’s waywardness,
Digamvari Debi declared her own personal form of mutiny from that day onwards:
she refused to share her bed with her husband! Till her last breath, Digamvari
Debi fulfilled all other wifely duties except cohabit with her husband. [1]
And this is how, almost 200 years ago; a woman with a
fearless mind had silently given voice to her inner rebellion. Moral of this
story for me lies in the chunk of her sacrifice, of how easily she could have
forgiven her husband and proceeded with a normal conjugal life, that was and normally is still expected of a woman, regardless of the era. How easy it would have been.
All massive upheavals, changes in the course of history have
come at a great price, often at the expense of human lives or in the least, a
comfortable life. I have not heard of a revolution yet that was simply accepted
and given away – a right to one’s existence, identity and self-respect is
something that needs to be earned, often with great sacrifices.
~~Rebuke:
Phase 2~~
Since we are on the topic of South-Asian history and heroes,
before I delve into phase 2, I would like to discuss an issue that is quite
Indian-subcontinent focused.
Why are we still living with our spouse’s parents? Is it
tradition or convenience or stroking the male ego that we have a massive talent
for? Because if it is only a question of affordability and ensuing reasons
about saving money through rent-free means, why is it that I see so many
stranded widowed parents of the female, leading a lonesome existence despite
having more than one child and their only plausible flaw I can find is the gender of
these children! On a scale of fairness and humanity, what kind of a daughter or
a person does that make you if you are actually willing to abandon your own parents
at their old and ailing age, only because you or your husband are not strong
enough to stand against the flow of social norm?
This matter, in a lot of cases, is actually direr than we
think. First of all, there is a similar ‘dilemma’ applicable as is with the
surname in phase 1 – my family or his family? I say neither. The whole
objective that the institution of marriage ratifies is cohabitation between two
individuals with the intention of constructing a home together, not to revamp
or re-build someone else’s. Then comes the most common flimsy defence of how it
is difficult for a couple to afford to live or have a house on their own.
Sounds quite realistic, excusable and pragmatic even, as opposed to my own
idealistic argument, does it not? No, not really, I call five aces on that too
because where the average budget of a South-Asian wedding ceremony is anywhere
between $50,000 to $150,000, a person able to afford that but unwilling to
invest the same amount into long-term wellbeing, for me, has already made the
choice between a rational lifestyle and one driven by social custom; and the
only education her college degree had perhaps bought her is the ability to
thwart questions that trouble her conscience and design falsified reasons that
would convince herself to believe in something the most instinctive part of her
recognises to be completely untrue. If you cannot afford to lead a married life
then you should not be married in the first place and least of all be able to
afford a luxurious wedding ceremony – I am sorry, it is a two-way street!
The only instance where I perhaps would not hold it against
a couple deciding to reside with the male’s parents/family is where the
converse is true and one or more of the male’s family members are ailing and in
need of constant attention, i.e. a classic dependent situation. In these circumstances
it is only human to have those family members closer to you, who are actually
in need but it is also essential that if circumstances reverse, the male should
be more than willing to accompany his spouse to live with her family and look
after them as well! If a man is truly a man, in all the masculine glory of the
word, then I really do hope before the end of time he remembers that the root the word has
been derived from is: hu-man.
This brings me to address phase 2 of my assertion, which is
a little more universal and refers to the general psyche of womanhood and the
part of us that wants to be rescued. Yes, this phrase does always remind me of
an episode from the pathetic show Sex and the city, which probably stands out
as a prolific example of a program that struts out all the deepest and darkest
of female vulnerabilities on a plate and the only statement that it does make
is that of fashion – I would have to give them credit for that!
Yes we are physically disadvantaged; the doubts that cloud
our mind range from our monthly cramps in the abdominal region to being at the disadvantaged
end of having to bear the consequences of a sexual experience gone wrong to our
child-bearing agonies but then again where is the fun being a hero who does not
rise against all odds and has not tasted the bitter sense of suffering, and
where is the sense of achievement in a battle that is not often punctuated with
small defeats and disappointments? At least being the ‘weaker’ sex has clearly
defined our goals for generations! Coming back to the incessant need for being
rescued, I cannot deny this myself that there is an embodied feeling of glee
being manned by a man, which often become the initial reason for attraction
between men and women but that feeling of romanticism should perhaps be strictly
held within the proximities of the bedroom - where you should feel free to be
thrashed around by your male counterpart and feel completely aroused by it but when
it comes to the more serious, decision-making aspect of life, doubts that you
are incapable of surviving or upholding a set of belief without it being
endorsed by your male counterpart is a complete loss of individuality. So very
often I see women in interactions falling completely silent when their male
counterparts speak up and what is worse, often echoing their voices because
somewhere deep down they actually consider them to be superior. This attitude
tends to surpass age, qualification or individual accomplishments in life, for
e.g. it could be a couple where both practices medicine, had gone to the same
college, had similar grades but the woman still feels the need to consult her
partner before voicing out an opinion. Just because you decide to spend your
life with a person does not justify you leaving behind your old values, beliefs,
orientations and opinions that make you who you are. Thus, from what I have
seen, when a woman decides to spend her life with the man of her dreams, she invariably
tends to leave behind a lot more than just her maiden name.
It would be completely unfair not to mention a recent social
campaign, while I am still on the topic, called MARD[2](Men
Against Rape and Discrimination), which had taken a contemporary approach
towards upholding women rights, through educating men and encouraging them to raise
their voice to drive home the message that women need to be respected. A
similar and more implemental campaign in Bangladesh is called ‘The Brave Men’ [3]
which looks into targeting boys aged between 12-15 to motivate them to break
their silence on violence against women in the community. These are exemplary
initiatives and perhaps the only kind of ‘rescue’ and support we should welcome
from our men!
I do realise that most of the topics broached here today
talk about issues that are quite urbane in nature and the connotations
contained is not relevant to the section of the society whose survival is
endangered, such as women battling against infant mortality rate, maternal
survival ratio, for whom changing their last names is not the option to ponder
upon but rather life is. But then again this piece is not aimed at that
underprivileged section to comprehend, rather at that particular sector of
women who has taken the responsibility and decided to engage themselves in
representing these women in crisis. I strongly believe we need to intrinsically
become the change we want to see around us before becoming an advocate for it
and realise it is a 3-step process: we need to have enough conviction to show
we a) want it, b) are willing to fight for it and make sacrifices along the way
and c) are willing to work hard enough to earn it.
My feminism is extended as far as the disadvantaged people
out there are concerned..and you would notice I say people, not women. Grouping
women and children together is offensive to say the least, however, grouping
women together, clearly distinguishing them from men, is perhaps even worse.
There already exists way too much segregation in terms of race, colour, and
geographical boundaries – where is the need to expand the list any further? The
only exception here is perhaps sports or anything associated with physical
strength where I would take a backseat but that is also where I draw the line.
For everything else concerned, our sole identity should be as people, with a
common goal of wellbeing. I speak to the group of women out there who engage in
the empowerment of others - whose voices cannot be heard - but from where I can
see things, it is particularly this group that need to be rescued first! Honestly,
how many of you out there are involved in women empowerment as a side project
under your husband’s elite umbrella that allow the privilege, and how many are
actually there because you have freed yourself already and wish to extend the
same favour to the rest of the world? So my endnote to all fellow women out
there is simply this – rescue yourself first – you are best equipped for the
job and give all those silent heroes watching something real to fight for.
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