Lessons from Feminism

 I hear people talking about feminism in both positive and negative connotations. As a man, I can only empathize and try not to be a vessel of the patriarchy. 

Tangentially, however, there is another thought that crosses my mind in regards to what men can learn from feminism. Women saw the injustice of their lives and decided to raise their voice and take action. It's high time we men did the same. It is time to learn from feminism.

I'm not talking about men's rights. I'm talking about men taking responsibility for our own needs. Getting our manliness back. Reconnecting with our roots. 

Rhetoric has led us to believe that being a bread-winner is all that a man is. We have one drive and we invest all our time and effort into it. But, does wearing a lanyard and being a loyal, hard-working employee equal being a complete man? Does hauling the most money into your bank account make you the best man out there? Since when did a "real man" become the guy with the most houses or land or cars to his name? 

We keep finding  a bunch of reasons to resign ourselves to such shallowness, conveniently forgetting that the entire point is to walk the path without any directions or rules written down for us. 

It is time to reconnect with what manliness is - how accountability, diligence, fortitude and morality are pillars of what it is to be a man; not the 'smartness' to maximize one's own gains with no regard for others. The latter only leads to a victory of selfishness (tragedy of the commons). 

The fundamental glue of human civilization in the fact that man is a social animal with empathy, cooperation and other prosocial behaviors. But today, questionably funded mass-media wants to be anti-social by feeding us the lie that humans are innately selfish and deceitful. More ant-social means less sharing. Less sharing means more sales. The Nash equilibrium is a narcissism epidemic!

Morality is being modified right before our eyes by masters of manipulation. The 'art' of doing this has been glorified so much that it is considered a key 'skill' to have in the pursuit of 'success'. 'Success' - ah, another word that has been hijacked by people who literally decide what you live your life for! The main question is, how do we distinguish between what is real and what is manipulation? The answer is time. 

It is time to find time. It is time to reclaim time. It is time to fight for time.

Time? Yes, to become complete men again, we need the time to open our eyes to our true social role. We need to rediscover our place as informed citizens who do not let governments exploit our lack of awareness and attentiveness. We need the time to commune and debate ideas and opinions to arrive at solutions that benefit everyone. We need the time to strengthen our shoulders so that they may bear the weight of all our responsibilities, comprehensively. And we also need the time to rediscover our humaneness. 

We are dads wanting to spend time with their kids; young men wanting to spend time with their love; sons wanting to spend time with their aged parents; men wanting to spend time in nature; human beings wanting to spend time pondering about life.

We, as men, need to retrace our steps and figure out where we went astray.

Where we stopped caring about making the best environment for our loved ones.

Where we gave up on being vigilant of  bad-actors corrupting our society, our surroundings and our minds.

Where we forgot our gratitude for what we have, our pride of our relationships and our love for freedom.

Where we stopped being examples of good men.

Women have made it clear that they want to spend more time out of never-ending family obligations. 

As men, this is an opportunity for us to take a share of these and learn to become more well-rounded individuals.

Women clearly are more mentally ready today, to face the challenges in the path to achieving their goals. 

As men, we need to become mentally ready to take a new path, to recognize and address our mental-health needs, banishing all the made-up fluff around manliness. 

Women are focusing on themselves guys.

Let's learn!

"Be Smart, child"

Someone recounted this anecdote recently. They(Indian) were in a European country and there were thigh-level stoppers that blocked people from entering the train platforms(much like the ones we see at our metro stations), but no cops or security around. They asked their European friend what happens when people just jumped over the stoppers instead of swiping the metro-card for payment. The European was taken aback. They couldn't comprehend why anyone would even thing like that. They were clearly unacquainted with the Indian frame of thought!

In India, you are naive not to think of loop-holes in the 'system'. Sometimes, it's the thrill of skirting around the rules, like what mischievous children feel when they do something without their parents knowing. But at other times, it's just the only realistically possible way of getting something done in the bureaucratic mess that is our government. 'Smart' is the word used around here to describe someone who knows how to 'get things done', without getting struck down by rules and procedures. This 'skill' is glorified so much that you're a hero if you have it and a loser if you follow the rules instead. Even kids are taught how to treat rules as hurdles that they need to learn to jump over. In India, this is the way!

But is it a logical way, especially when you think about the long-term?

Here's a short story to shed more light ...

There is a walking path near where I live, as wide as a road that a car go on. It runs along a river and is unpaved. It was actually just a path meant for bulldozers to be able to do their work of building banks along the river so that it could protect the neighboring areas in the event of another flood (the first being in 2015). It had become a great place to go for a walk in the mornings and evenings for everyone in the neighborhood. People were walking, jogging and cycling there peacefully for sometime, till some 'smart' motorcycle guys got the idea of using it as a shortcut to get somewhere. And the icing on the satirical cake was how they drove at speed, alarming the walkers and joggers. A peaceful setting which stood out from our normal hellish roads, had become corrupted by zipping and zooming motorized two-wheelers.

Now, before cars start using it too, the government has stopped these motorists by placing a gate at the entrance of the path. It has a rotating gate for walkers and joggers, and also has a security-person cubicle near the gate. You might think, 'Ah, problem solved!'; end of story. But, hold on a second and think about the expenses made. The cost of the gate, the labor of installing it, the cost of the cubicle and the salary to be paid to the security person. Who's paying for it?

Let's recap that. A peaceful walking path now needs a gate and security because of some 'smart' guys who tried to use it as a shortcut. If you think a bit further, this is not an isolated story. This is a pattern. For example, think of how many extra minutes a person loses in a US airport just for enhanced security checking after 9/11. Now, multiply that by the millions of people traveling every year. Think of the cost of the equipment and security personnel. All of it wasted because of 12 terrorists who 'outsmarted' - very important word, airport security!

More thought can unearth the fact that we are practically losing a surprising amount of time, money and brain-space, just to deal with the rules and regulations that have been put there to stop 'smart' people. The more loop-holes 'smart' people find, the more the government has to spend on closing them. The more rules 'smart' people flout, the more checks and restrictions the government has to bring. At the end of the day, a lay person, who is not 'smart' and doesn't flout laws, has to go through more checks, restrictions, rules, regulations, approvals, attestations, 'no-objections' and validations to get, even the basic things in life, 'done'; all the while paying taxes for the enforcement of these very same restrictions, rules, regulations, approvals, attestations, 'no-objections' and validations. Such is the way!

So, "be smart, child"...

 

   

When words, like islands, are sparser; meaning, like the ocean, is deeper.

Lives are lived

Lives are made

And some lives are recounted.

Lives are spent

Lives are lost

Yet most lives are discounted.

So,

Live today

Live tomorrow

Never relive a sorrow.

Live long

Live large

Beg, beguile or borrow.

The Fellow man

It’s scorching noon in Chennai and the sun’s wrath has never been worse this year. The tarred roads are at least fifteen degrees hotter than ambient and conjure up mirages like nobody’s business, making the scene look more like a stylised painting. But in it you can see spots of red, orange, green and black going up and down the street without any care of the punishing heat. These are our very own food-delivery agents parading their brand-specific t-shirts. The craziest thing is these shirts are often worn on top of another layer, protecting them from sweat so they can be worn for a day more. Now, imagine wearing two layers in 42 degree weather (feels like 50, as per Google) with the sun resolute to cook you alive. These guys, most of them young, ride around delivering lunches from restaurants to people’s homes and offices like it’s a walk in the park. Most don’t care to wear even a cap on top of their baking heads.

The number of jobs tech has created in recent times is commendable and much needed too. A never ceasing population growth needs any and all means of job creation. There is no room to think about ‘human rights’ or ‘the environment’ when the scramble for survival is very real. Marriage and baby-making is sacred though; it’s something every man and woman is expected to get done or die trying. Wait, did you just think about population control?! Oh, snap! You’re a villain now.

These days, in Chennai at least, there is a new distinction between jobs - is the work environment air-conditioned or not? This is why jobs at malls and showrooms are so highly sought after among less privileged youth. Cab-ride apps have made way for another air-conditioned workspace, aka cars. There is no sign of summers getting any cooler, so, hopefully, more workplaces will become climate-controlled. However, there still will be some poor souls that will have to brave the horrible sun.

But, what determines who is hung out to dry? Is it intelligence? Character? Discipline? Grit?

Nope, it’s just plain fate. 

The foremost reason we are where we are is fate. 

You might argue that it’s through hard work and determination that you made it to where you are now; but, in a roundabout way, that argument also means the people who aren’t as successful are not working hard and/or are not determined enough. As far as I can see, these delivery agents are hard-working and hella determined to make a buck; but if just brain-work qualifies, then maybe the scales are a bit skewed. You might not be at fault for thinking that the grades at school and the appraisals at work are the testaments of one’s value. It is the result of the system put in place to choose the right candidates for particular kinds of tasks. It’s the same for a plethora of professions and trades where you just have to be good at certain things to get the job done right. However, it’s only human to attach elevated meanings to these scores and distinctions. 

As far as such competitive evaluation systems give you positive energy and the spirit of ambition, it’s great! However, being completely unaware that the majority out there who haven’t even had the privilege to know that such things exist, is very much like an American team claiming they are ‘World Champions’ in ‘American’ Football! Joking aside, being aware of the people of the world and their predicaments helps us stay grounded and less lost in out our own bubble-worlds. It can prevent us from falling into the trap of prejudice and baseless discrimination. 

In a world where ‘globalisation’ has such a positive connotation, only trade, money and workers have really crossed borders; and maybe some refugees too. Fresh hatred and fear are being sowed for political ambitions while old biases grow ever stronger. For most of us, all the chaos is overwhelming and we cocoon ourselves, focusing more on our work, our family and our future. But one natural crisis, one mistake on the road, one late cab at night or one random misfortune (*touch wood* to all of those!) could burst the bubble in a second and reality will stare us right in the face. Only the residual humanity left in our society will come to the rescue.

It could only do us good to think also about the fellow man.

Another short story - 'Curry Leaves'

They are free if you buy other vegetables at the local grocery store. Your neighbours wouldn’t even be bothered if you plucked a few from their tree. But their enigmatic value runs deep into the very subconscious of every ‘Madrasi’. Almost every curry made down here, in the southern part of India, needs a few of them at the very beginning of the preparation process. Without its unmistakable aroma and unique flavour in the mix, South Indian food would seem alien to any South Indian. It even adds to the colour and authentic look of various dishes. 

But, the story is very different after a dish has been served. After the beautiful ensemble of the dish with its steamy freshness has been relished with resolute patronage, the curry leaf faces the ultimate twist of fates. 

He was sitting there, opposite her, in a ‘pure vegetarian’ authentic South Indian restaurant, looking at her beautiful face lit by the evening sun beaming orange through the large window behind him. Was she trying not to look at him, or was it the sun? - he couldn’t figure out. They had been together for about eight months. Eight months of feeling special and important to someone is enough to change your entire life. For him, it was validation that he wasn’t weird; that he belonged somewhere, unlike what his parents and sister made him feel. He had built himself an entire castle of confidence around it. And she was the queen. Her pink and perfect lips shifted shapes fast. He didn’t listen. Instead, he watched her gracefully pour the hot sambar onto her very white plate, with equally white but fluffy idlies sitting on it. 

Her mind was completely taken by the task of saying what she was here to say and yet her fingers, as if by their own accord, slowly started fishing out one curry leaf after another from the sambar and placing them aside. Leaves that were worth no money and yet one reason why this sambar smelled, and would probably taste, as exquisite as it would have several hundred years ago. But now it was time for them to be removed. Much like how he had to be, for her to say yes to an alliance her parents had found for her. Her voice wasn’t steady like her hands though. But neither was this whole thing unforeseen. 

He knew this was coming too. She knew he knew. But this conversation had to be had. Hope had to be extinguished and the castle had to come crashing down. The other guy was just a way better proposition. Software engineer at one of the tech giants in Silicon Valley with a hefty paycheque to keep any Indian girl happy. And if anyone deserved to be happy, it was her. But, he just couldn't face 'goodbye'.

His eyes fixated on the leaves. ‘What must they be thinking?’, he thought. They were just leaves on some random plant, trying to do their thing. But someone just came by, plucked them and threw them into a frying pan. And now here they lay, cast aside, soon to be one with the garbage. 

She tried to hold back her tears. Life wasn't going to be the same without him. She wanted him to be happy. There were other girls out there. All he had to do was get out there and find himself someone great for him. Someone nice, who could go the distance with him. Because she couldn’t. Her parents and relatives would be very disappointed in her if she let the US proposal go. ‘You know how much I always wanted to travel’, she said. 

It didn’t make sense to him, but he understood. He had to. 

The sun set as she left. 

He sat there, still looking at her plate. She hadn’t eaten a single bite. But all the curry leaves had been removed clean off the sambar.