She is wasting her life – not!

Some months ago a troll left a comment on someone else’s blog about how I no longer get after working moms because I am now one myself. The person whose blog it was, promptly forwarded the comment to me and deleted it. She has no time to entertain personal attacks. Particularly when they have nothing to do with the post in question.

Anyhow, here’s the thing. I never did ‘get after’ working moms. I had an opinion. I stated it. Some didn’t like it, but that didn’t matter. Because thats the thing with opinions. They take a side. And not everyone has to like that side. And it ruffled feathers because I was a SAHM myself, at that time. People don’t like you commenting on them if you aren’t in their boat. Just like I don’t like NRIs telling us how everything is wrong with our country!! Here’s the thing, I still stand by what I said even though I am not an SAHM.

I have been a working mom for a year and a half now. And I don’t like it too much. Let me clarify. I enjoy work  – if I were to look at work in a vaccum. What I don’t enjoy is leaving my children to hired help to take care of entirely. Which is what you’re forced to do by most Indian organisations that keep you in office until 9 pm and don’t want you to have your kids as the screensaver (kidding!). They milk you for everything you’re worth, chew you up and then spit out the remains.

But I was fortunate enough to get an awesome boss. As long as my work hits the table as planned, I am free to exercise my flexitime option. It means I sleep barely 4 hours a night, I am sick as a dying dog and maybe I’ll die at 40, but hell, who wants to be mom to adult kids anyway. This way I get the best of them and leave the OA to handle them marrying unacceptable people

Anyway, my point always has been, that its  good for kids to have a parent around. In my case, as the member earning less, it made sense to quit. I also realise that if I were earning more and our family income had got suddenly halved and we had huge loans to pay off, my decision might have been different. That and the first maid who burnt the Brat’s belly.

So anyway, a few days ago, a friend was talking of a common friend. A brilliant girl. And saying that she felt bad that this brilliant common friend of ours was wasting herself being home raising kids. Now I don’t know where to go with this because she reads my blog (hey you!!)  – but its still important enough an issue for me to want to address.

I know that I felt the same way until I had my kids. You know, what self-respecting, educated woman would sit home wiping noses and washing bums when there are agencies to take care of that thing and you have a world out there to save.  Kids are this homogenous mass of cranky, snotty whiners until you have your own. Who is of course brilliant, adorable and well – so special! You no longer think of it as sitting at home wasting your life.You are leaving your special impact on this child who is special to you. Raising them exactly the way you want.

A few days ago a friend mailed me. She is also a working mom who has her MIL helping her raise the children. Now all due respect to the older lady, but she belongs to a different time and age and hell – most importantly, she is a different person. The kids kept getting conflicting instructions. My friend is now on her own for a while and the kids are much easier to handle because its only one person giving them instructions. Another top business journalist friend quit her job 6 months ago, when her child was 2.5. And now she wishes she’d done it earlier because the child’s behaviour and temperament have undergone a sea change.

I don’t think I am levelling any criticism here. Merely saying that anyone with half a brain can see that two people will raise a child in a radically different manner. The OA and I are very different in our approach too. And if we were to divorce each other and keep the kids for 6 months each, the kids would go nuts with the different attitudes (and with the shuttling, I imagine!) and instructions.

Anyway, my point is, even today, as a working mother, I don’t see how I am leaving any significant impact on the world. Which of course brings us to the next point. How do you define significant? Its different for each of us – right? To me, significant means you’ve either found a cure for cancer or the common cold. Or else are working with an NGO or are a teacher.  This is my personal definition. I don’t think too many journalists are doing earth shaking work – myself included. And neither do I think selling more colas or chocolates (even if they are the biggest brands in the world) and watching the numbers sky rocket, is particularly great. You’re just giving our kids extra calories and cavities with no great benefit, so you’re not really my number one role model.

I am much more in awe of the influence a parent has on a child. You spend time with your kid and you’ve just taken one more kid off the streets, smoking something illegal. Again, no disrespect meant to those peddling soaps, cell phones or anything else. Just that I object to a parent taking time off to raise their child, being told they are wasting time or their intelligence.

Lets see what else you’d be doing with that intelligence.

- working your ass off for your company

- making more money for the big bosses above you

- making more money for yourself

- buying a bigger house

- putting your kids into more expensive classes

- higher EMIs on various goods

- struggling to work harder and worrying that you might lose your job and not be able to meet that EMI

- and the cycle goes on.

- or, as some people plan – retire at 40 and sit around doing damn all.

- why not just cut the cycle and the tension and take it easy and sit around doing something meaningful earlier in life?

This is not just others we’re talking of. This is also what the OA and I are doing. I took 5 years off work and now that I am back, we’re finally investing and buying all the things that we haven’t in all these years. A second car, more books, short holidays – but also, also, both of us working, working, working. If it weren’t for the flexible nature of my job, I don’t think I’d be doing this.

It goes on. Everyone I meet these days says, I wanna make big money and quit work at 40. Damnit – quit at 40 and do what?!! Spend your days bumming around? You waste the best years of your life, your youth and your health, stuck inside AC offices with stale air and cold white lighting, and then want to sit around at 40 doing nothing, while your kids are now in their teens and have no interest in you? Strange idea.

Funnily, I hear more men say this, than women. Its like a sudden change has come about when its no longer shameful to say you want to sit around doing nothing, not being socially useful or productive. Isn’t that the charge levelled against SAHMs? What do you want to quit your job and do, I ask all these men and women. ‘Oh, read, travel, garden, sunbathe… play with my cats and dogs, learn pottery.. blah blah” To say nothing of all those investment and mutual fund ads that show men sitting around watching the rain because they’ve retired young. Is retired a more politically correct way to put it? In that case I also retired at 25 and took up a post-retirement job at 30. There, doesn’t that sound nice?

What you’re saying essentially is that its okay to stay home and read a book and do nothing. That doing THAT is not wasting your intelligence and talent. But staying home to raise your kids, leaving your management degree aside for a while is a waste of your time and resources? Particularly if everytime I see you, I realise your kids are healthy and happy, you are health and happy, your husband is healthy and happy.. so then where is the problem?

I don’ t know if this is a feminism problem, but again, it seems to me that the very same choice, is treated differently depending on who is doing it. A man taking a sabbatical to discover himself, read and travel, is oh – deep, interesting, in touch with his innerself yaada yaada. A woman taking a break to raise her kids because she feels this is the right thing for her and for them, is unambitious and wasting herself according to her friends. While her acquaintances are shocked if she says more than Moo.

Sometimes when I give my going back to work some thought, I think of it as a very sneaky choice. One that appeases everyone. Today’s society (because it believes that women should work), my family (because they believe that they educated me so that I work), my kids (because I can tell them what a great example of the emancipated woman I am, you know, I was a working mom who struggled to bake them muffins, do their homework, cut their nails, nurse them through illness, all while holding down a job!), my husband (because I am an earning member who is paying her way) and so on. And the best part is I am no longer as defensive and insecure as I was when staying home. If I had a buck for every SAHM who shrugs self-consciously when asked ‘What do you do?’.. I’d be a millionaire.

I feel terrible that they’re made to feel like such wasters of time and resources. Never mind that some of them volunteer, bake, write, invest in the stockmarkets and fill up all the tiny gaps we don’t even realise exist. And never mind that its a choice that suits them and their family and is really none of our business.

When I get into bed and am alone with my thoughts, I am naked. I see my flaws, my failures, my pride, my mistakes, and I wonder how many of us can stop and say we’re doing something truly unselfish. In a simple way. Not portraying ourselves as matyrs. Not calling it sacrifice. Simply doing something because we feel its the best and not letting others opinions of us, colour the way we feel about ourselves.

There’s a simple pleasure to bathing your child, teaching him to shut the taps tight and not waste water, feeding him while telling him stories of the crow and the fox, teaching him to tie his shoelaces, and my personal favourite – welcoming them home from school (I dont get to do this one often enough). Home isn’t the house – its mommy and her mommy smell and her mommy smile. And who are we to tell those who have chosen to do this, who are privileged enough (and here I don’t equate money to privilege) to have these joys, who hear their child’s  first word, watch her first step and nurse her first bruise, that they’re wasting their lives? They’re teaching their kids the greatest lesson in life, if you ask me. That nothing, nothing on earth, not money, not education, not career, can be as important as a person. And the best part is that this is a thankless, tedious job. One you do only for love of it. It is not a credit on your resume, it doesn’t send you to Goa for an offsite, you don’t get a salary and while there is a lot of personal growth, there is no moving up the career ladder here. Until you become a grandparent which from what I hear, is definitely a promotion!

Here I will clarify that I’m not talking about those who have no choice and are struggling to make ends meet. I am talking about us. The middle class and above. We who can choose to work or not. Where we can manage on one salary. Where we’re highly educated and intelligent enough for our friends to say we’re wasting our resources.

We’ve made a choice, they’ve made a choice. If we don’t want to be called heartless b******s who leave our kids to hired help, we have to stop patronising them and saying that they’re such intelligent women and we’re sorry they’re wasting their brains. Right there we’ve insulted their intelligence by implying that they’re stupid to know what to do best with their brains and their family. Right there. Yes, back up a bit and watch the insult roll off your tongue. Even if you didn’t mean it.

To say nothing of how conversation comes to a grinding halt when you say, ‘So what do you do?’ and they reply ‘I’m home with my kids right now’. Ahem. What does that say about your conversational capabilities if you feel like your topics of conversation are limited now that you can’t talk shop with them? Surely you realise they read and watch movies and catch the news just like you? Why not chat with them, just like you would with me, about what they think of Kasab’s death sentence. I assure you, they’ll have an opinion. You don’t have to discuss the best washing powder with them, you know. Here’s a mostly SAHM who I have grown to love and respect over the years. And another. And here’s another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. I could go on, but I won’t. My respect guys.

And yes, my respect to the working moms like myself too. No disrespect intended to self and others like self Just a reminder. Lets not call it a waste of brains if you’re home with a baby. Not unless we’re willing to stop all the backpackers, readers, writers, travellers and tell them all they’re wasting their life too. And even then – NOT!

There’s probably a lot more to this and so I throw the floor open. What do you guys have to say?

PS: Here’s what Ranjani had to say. And Noon’s post is here.

Still talking Feminism

Anna Quindlen, the author I pretty much idolise, once said,

“It’s important to remember that feminism is no longer a group of organizations or leaders. It’s the expectations that parents have for their daughters, and their sons, too. It’s the way we talk about and treat one another. It’s who makes the money and who makes the compromises and who makes the dinner. It’s a state of mind. It’s the way we live now.”

And of course you nod, because you believe it and can’t imagine it being any other way. Until you come across something like this giving us strategy on branding (link via Sairee) for women executives. I was rather horrified, reading stuff like -

Do not drag your family to work. No family photos, no screensavers, no drawings. Yes, yes, I know men have all of these, but who said life is fair.

Really? Not even a screensaver?! Hello third wave feminism! Would you like to come over and meet this author?

And what is this about not informing a supervisor early about a pregnancy or marriage?  I would like to think of it as a matter of courtesy, not legalities. Just like my boss isn’t officially bound to let me come in 15 minutes later because of my physiotherapy, but does it out of consideration. An architect working on a 3 year project to build a hotel should give the company adequate notice to make alternate arrangements, right? Besides what is adequate notice? I don’t know. Some of us pop immediately and start throwing up, while others remain thin as a rake till we deliver and don’t have a day of anything wrong. What all of us do, is take time off after the baby and if you have an idea of it early enough, why not? This one however is just a judgment call so this isn’t a real quibble.

The  next – no discussion on ‘feminine problems’. We’re obviously going back to the day when you couldn’t say you are having your periods. Excuse me? I understand if this was a blanket rule of not giving out any medical details. But I absolutely object to the whole ‘feminine’ problems line. Is it okay to say you have a prostrate problem then?

As for PTA meetings and sick children – as I type this, the OA is holding a feverish Brat in his arms, having taken half a day off from work. I took the morning off. A week ago the Bean got heat stroke and we both split the time, the OA taking her for a throat swab and blood tests (the doctor suspected dengue).

Not only do I find this kind of post a bit of a blow to feminism. I find it a very regressive way of thinking and a blow to the family structure. World over, we’re making a move towards a work environment which respects the family and personal life. So it should be completely okay for a parent (be it a father or a mother) to say they’re taking the day off for a sick child or the morning off for a PTA meeting. This is the India of nuclear families. A sick child cannot be packed off to daycare and neither can the maid attend the PTA meeting in your stead.

When we talk of work life balance, we’re making an obvious statement. That work is not life. There is life beyond work and we’ve got to start respecting that. Start respecting that not just for parents who rush home to a sick child but single people who have responsibilities towards their parents, friends and even themselves. Who might want to travel, volunteer for a cause, pick up an instrument, or indulge in a hobby.

I am disappointed with the kind of thinking we’re encouraging, by asking women to literally neuter themselves professionally. If its okay for men to talk about a ball game at work, why not for a woman to talk about her child? Heck, I know the OA and his colleagues discuss schooling and children very often. (I once did a post on the OA and three of his colleagues eating Happy Meals at McDonalds during lunch hour, just to bring home the toys for their kids. I miss you Southways!)

I respect them all the more for it and their reward is children who literally worship the ground they walk on. It’s not really a favour they’re doing their kids. It’s a favour they’re doing themselves, by remaining human. And by not living up to male stereotypes – jocks, workaholics, casanovas.. everything, but family men. Men who care and aren’t afraid to say it. Not to sound like a Raymond’s advertisement here… but you get my point. At times I feel sorry for men having to live within society’s narrow constraints and high expectations too. Only when I am not feeling sorry for women and their plight

I don’t deny the fact that women are judged on these issues. But they’re only judged because the men are conditioned to never mention home and family at work. But that is changing. From the senior management guy who sits across my cubicle, telling me that his wife has managed to conceive 8 years after their first child and he is worried about her health to the big guy down the row I sit in, who I bumped into at every school last year, taking an hour off, just like me, to pick up admission forms. We’re all in this together. So we’ve got to learn to integrate work and life. They can’t be separate and at times, contradictory entities. And we’ve got to respect men and women for what they choose to talk about or display – as long as its not inappropriate. Yes, the woman with a picture of her twins pinned up on her soft board as well as the man with a picture of his wife peeking cheekily out of a shop in a Bangkok market. An acquaintance recently had a bad motorcycle crash. With his family in another city it was friends who took the next few days off from work to nurse him, get his bike repaired and deal with the cops.

And employers and HR executives alike, are going to have to learn to change, unlearn, re-learn and accept this new India, these people who are not just automatons at machines, but are parents, children, siblings, friends, lovers too. Work is just a part of our life. It is NOT our life. And this can’t be an individual’s move. Because if I refuse to take work related calls on my sacrosanct Sundays, there are sure to be other younger, more ambitious people who will take that call and do that job, leaving me redundant. Which is fine. Because in about ten years they’ll want that Sunday off and they’ll regret having shut that window in their own faces. We aren’t there yet, but it takes baby steps. And eac h one of  us needs to walk that road. United we stand as the old saying goes. Otherwise its just the British divide and rule theory where they tell the single people that the marrieds/parents are taking a free ride… and the marrieds/parents are pushed into panic striken responses and longer working hours. Playing us off each other. Ensuring that none of us get a life. Giving us silly sops like TT tables and gyms in the office. Hello.. let us get out of work at 5 and go for a jog in the park, thank you very much.

It’s the rare person who stays young and single and free of responsibility for more than ten years of their working life. After that, whether you have kids or not, you yearn for a life beyond the Blackberry and the Q2 report. And if you don’t, heck, I don’t understand how you’re reading this blog! This is certainly not the place for you.  It’s about time we united in an effort to stop work from pushing life off the table, neutering us, turning us into genderless, humourless, witless people. Go on people. Pick life.  As for my sistahs – here’s to a table with a pretty coffee mug (no disposable plastic coffee machine cups!), pictures on the soft board, crisp cotton suits, floral shirts and bright handbags. We’re not men. We’ve never been men. We don’t aim on acting like men (perish the thought!).

I lead you back to the Anna Quindlen quote. This is the life we live. Men and women alike will earn, will cook dinner and will rock a puking child and soothe him. Telling us to camouflage that side is unfair and detrimental to us and to our society in the long run.

Disclaimer: I have not read this lady’s blog in entirety. I am only commenting on this piece. Because I am sure she is good at whatever job it is that she does – so no disrespect meant to her. But when a woman, and one who has risen to the top, tells other women to deny their femininity and that it is the only way to get to the top…. it is a sad, sad day.

A rose is a rose is a bloody rose. Okay? Okay

After the Manyata/Dilnavaz/Sara-Sanjay Dutt surname controversy I had a chat with this young man who seems like a sweet, harmless old fossil – who pointed out that it takes little to keep peace. And if a woman is joining a man’s family, why not take his name yaada yaada… Just to keep peace.

That’s it. No better reason, but peace. Here’s my question – why does peacekeeping always fall to the woman?

I tuned out during his session of gyan because I realised that he was so mistaken in his basic premise that there seemed little point in going on.

Women today no longer just join a man’s family like staff. Marriage is an equal partnership where the man is also becoming a part of her family. In which case, why not mutually exchange names along with vows and leave it at that?

Today, man and woman both leave their parental homes and set up one of their own, based on mutual respect and equality. How hard is that to understand? Even if not physically – you do set up the concept of a new family together.

Men need to either keep up with the times and understand that, or then get left behind and wonder what the hell hit them.

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Okay so I wrote this post and being the kind of issue it is, it never does end. Funnily it came up a few times more. My PAN card is a mess. My dad has this loooong name which includes his first name, father’s name, village name and a bunch of other jazz which most of the time does nothing but add to administrative issues. All his official papers have different names and sometimes initials for a few of them. As a result my PAN card which has his name, doesnt tally with his PAN card and now I’m going nuts cutting through red tape to get it. It hasn’t mattered all this while but now that I have a steady income, I need it desperately and I’m cursing my dad for having kept 4 names that he displays randomly as the mood posseses him.

I spoke to the income tax call centre today and the lady was as frustrated as me as we went through the documentation. We realised that on every bit of proof we have various permutations and combinations of his name. I’m tempted to quit work and not earn a rupee  just to save myself this running around. Between the Brat’s admissions, my eff-ed up knee, my job, the Bean’s health and a planned move to shift out of this third floor house, I am standing on my own last remaining nerve.

The lady finally frayed it by saying, ‘You know ma’am, don’t mind but your father’s name is too long and there is too much scope for mistakes. Please re-apply with your husband’s name.’

I hung up slowly after thanking her. And I was just so tired. It’s as though I’m nobody without my husband’s name or father’s name. Yes, I know this is a process that even the husband goes through – he must always fill his father’s name. But I’m tired of how patriachal it is.

What if I want to fill my mother’s name? For one thing she’s a darn sight better organised than my father, has all her documentation in place, and has just a first name and surname. It would be the simplest thing on earth to apply with her forms as proof. But no, it must be either my father or husband. Both of whom have their endless village  name, father’s name and God alone knows what else that they add and subtract, making every bit of identity proof a pain in the arse.

What if my parents are divorced and I dont want to use my father’s name and I’m single and have no husband’s name to give? Why don’t the columns read Parent/Spouse’s name instead of Father/Husband’s name?

Here’s a better question? Why oh why do I have to get a PAN card?

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I think the mistake we make in this endless debate, as in many others, is believing that if I’m not for you, I’m against you. Well this isn’t one of those. A woman’s name is her own business. It begins and ends at her doorstep. If she is okay with changing it, nobody has a right to tell her she is regressive. If she doesn’t want to change it, nobody has a right to tell her she is a rebel.

This conversation came up again with friends and a couple of them said that their surname wasn’t their identity so they didn’t mind changing it. ‘My name is not my identity and changing it won’t change the person I am’ they said.

I beg to differ. It’s definitely not my identity, but it’s part of my identity. You wouldn’t have randomly changed it before marriage either – right? Because it WAS important to you.

It’s just a question of the times and social conditioning. A 100 years ago even the first name was changed after marriage and most women meekly accepted it. I’d like to see anyone changing their first name today meekly just because their inlaws say so. I know a lot of families still give that new first name as part of the custom, but how many women in our generation do you know, in your own social circle, who have taken on the new first name and are referred to by it and introduce themselves by it? Or changed their official papers to their new first name? Or told all their friends to call them by the new name?

Similarly, we women of this generation have grown up accepting that surnames will be changed. There is no inner tussle in the head or the heart. But our first names – well that we were told we’d have for life and I can bet you we’d have a huge issue accepting it being changed. We accept the surname as fait accompli because we’re conditioned to believe that its okay. Which is fine. When we were kids, all families had the same surname. But things are changing.

Families no longer belong to the same community. They’re a mix of Bengali, Tamilian, Bihari, Mizo, Goan, Haryanvi… so many combinations. The entire definition of a family is a new one. They’re a mix of religions. (Did anyone see the Republic day issue of HT Brunch? Story on the Alvas and another family  – mix of so many religions and communities). They no longer eat the same thing. In the same family I’ve seen the Jains eat different food, some people eat egg, others eat meat and yet others eat beef and pork. So even the dining table holds different food for the various members. The people sitting around the table worship or believe in different Gods or different avatars. So the name perhaps, is the least of the issues. How does it matter if we carry different second names?

Do people with the same surname not have fights? Do they not get divorced? Do they not fight over property? Do they not have affairs and cheat on their spouses? Does it give enough of a family feel to not harass DILs for dowry? Does it make you feel enough of a family to support your wife and split the housework? Does it make fathers attend school functions that their kids are in?

I see some women who change their surnames but insist on every single tiny custom being done the way they’ve always done it in their parental home. This is not a generalisation – its just that changing your name is not really a sign of wanting to fit into a family. The attitude should be one of willing to adjust and be a part of it. A simple name change means nothing more than that.

There are all sorts of people and the way they behave isn’t governed by their surname. A few days ago we were househunting and the broker was slightly rude to the OA. The OA gave it back politely but I went at the broker like a tigress and the OA had to calm me down and drag me away, reminding me that we needed the broker. I didn’t care. We lost the best house because of my hot headedness but I wasn’t going to stand by and watch some asshole give my husband lip. And we don’t share a surname. But I can’t imagine feeling anymore of a family than we already do. I loved him 8 years ago when we had different surnames and nothing’s changed. I can’t imagine loving my husband or my children anymore than I love them right now -  I feel it come rushing up my stomach and burning my insides. If I loved them any more, I’d implode!

All this, is not to say that women shouldn’t change their surnames. But to say that keeping the same surname makes you feel more like a family is just a specious argument. You feel like a family because you are one. Nothing can change that. Not the food you eat, the God you pray to or the name you keep.

If you want to change your name because you were conditioned to do so and you think there is no harm – why that’s a fair enough reason. If you do so because you like the sound of Mr and Mrs Agarwal – good for you again. If you do so because you love your inlaws and think its a small gesture to keep them happy – good for you. If you think it would keep your husband happy and make him feel more like the head of the house – good on you again.

But don’t tell me it will make you more or less of a family. Don’t tell me it will make the kids misfits. And don’t tell me that a man doesnt equally marry into his wife’s family. I don’t want to hear it.

PS: Disclaimer for those who will be sure to come running and imagining things. I have no issues with those who change their surnames. I fight for their right to do that just as I fight for my right to keep mine. I do have an issue with statements that reflect badly by implication – that not changing my name is either disrespectful to my husband (what respect ? he’s an equal), will leave my kids feeling like misfits ( really – and have you never seen families with the same surname where the entire family hates each other and have no communication or relationship?) or any other such crap. Actually – go ahead. Tell me, and make my day as I rip each ridiculous argument to pieces.

Pink Chaddi Campaign

You may have heard of the Pink Chaddi Campaign that kicked off three days ago to oppose the Sri Ram Sena. The campaign is growing exponentially (3,800 at this point in the life of our Consortium of Pub-going, Loose and Forward Women) and that is not surprising. Most women in this country have enough curbs on their lives without a whole new franchise cashing in with their bully-boy tactics. (Read Nisha’s interview here to see what started this snowball)

Of course, a lot of men have joined the group as well. Here is we want to do with the Pink Chaddi Campaign. Join in. Be imaginative, have fun and fight back!

Step 1: It does not matter that many of us have not thought about Valentine’s Day since we were 13. If ever. This year let us send the Sri Ram Sena some love. Let us send them some PINK CHADDIS. Look in your closet or buy them cheap. Dirt-cheap. Make sure they are PINK. Send them off to the Sena.

The address to send the package is: Pramod Muthalik, Chief Bully Boy, Sri Rama Sena, #11, Behind New Bus Stand, Gokhul Road, Near Lakshmi Park, Hubli – Karnataka.

If you don’t want to mail it yourself, you can drop it off at the Chaddi Collection Points. We will be collecting across the country through this week and sending the packages on February 12. More information about Chaddi Collectors in your city soon on our blog: http://thepinkchaddicampaign.blogspot.com/

Step 2: Send the Pink Chaddi Campaign a photograph of the package. Tell us how many chaddis you are sending out and inspire other women in other cities. You can either mail the information here or you can mail it at our facebook address.

Step 3: On Valentine’s Day we do a Pub Bharo action. Go to a pub wherever you are. From Kabul to Chennai to Guwahati to Singapore to LA women have signed up. It does not matter if you are actually not a pub-goer or not even much of a drinker. Let us raise a toast (it can be juice) to Indian women. Take a photo or video. We will put it together (more on how later) and send this as well to the Sri Ram Sena.

Step 4: After Valentine’s Day we should get some of our elected leaders to agree that beating up women is ummm… AGAINST INDIAN CULTURE. For right now, ask not what Dr VS Acharya, Home Minister of Karnataka can do for you. Ask what you can do for him. Here is his blog. http://drvsacharya.blogspot.com.  Send him some love.

A Valentine for India

So what are you planning for your loved one for Valentine? I have no idea what to do with the OA or for him so all ideas will be welcome. On the other hand, should we be discussing our plans here?Because pssstt…. the Shri Ram Sena guys are on the prowl, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting couples found celebrating. Because it’s against our culture  to show love and affection or celebrate it.

Between the Shri Ram Sena, Shiv Sena, Bajrang Dal, RSS and VHP, there’s very little space in this country to exercise all the freedom our constitution promises us. The media is calling them the Hindu Taliban. I think that is so wrong. We need to stop doing that. It’s almost as though we’re giving them a place and a name and accepting that they will contunue to exist. I refuse to do that. I want to put my fingers in my ears and scream and refuse to listen to anyone who says that this is here to stay.

What are all of us doing to stop this other than shaking our heads disapprovingly?? Someone here has set up an initiative and I am proud to introduce it to all of you who are in Delhi. Do join in and contribute.

Let’s stand up to the moral police. Let’s keep it non-violent. Let’s not let all traces of love be wiped out…

Here’s wishing you flowers, chocolates, champagne, candles and all else that makes your day magical and special…

PS: The NY Times writes about the issue.