Tumhari Aukat ?

Tumhari Aukat? 

Circa late 1950’s early 60’s : A flashback to the old black and white movies when a farmer toils his land in tattered shirt and a loin cloth bare feet in his fields , his feet encrusted with mud and sweat pouring down his back . He returns home to his family and his thatched hut where he eats a meal of stale roti and a watery dal . The expression on his face is of dismay , depression , sadness and gloom with a melancholy that reflects . 

Circa 2020- we are in the midst of a severe pandemic that exists on the this side of the barricade , everything is available on the fingertips and we are colonising Mars. Farmers are sitting on the roads , protesting peacefully in their affluent tractors , sleeping out in the open at night what temperatures dropping to 3 degrees temperature . The question that worries the kid press is how are they eating pizza ? How dare a farmer have the audacity to eat food such as pizza or a sandwich that are the domain of the educated , well read, fluent in English . Farmers aren’t supposed to eat pizza , they aren’t well read or educated . They are supposed to be uncouth , loud , brash and just limited to their dal roti or dal chawal.

I mean . Just imagine the sheer cheek , and effrontery that he dare to eat pizza . The impertinence of him to eat a pizza clad in his kurta pajama with his signature turban ? How dare he eat something that was on my menu ?

The protest of the farmer for the repealing of the laws is something that concerns all of us , every section of the society and I will keep on raising my voice and spreading awareness . A farmer is the backbone of the country . You gotta eat , gotta poop and then only you could go about to do or business . 

An ignorant lady emerged that if milk supplies wee stopped she would take packet wala doodh. Meir pyaari memsahib , you cant download , order via Big Basket or get Mother Dairy doodh. It’s a democracy where we have coexisted in a secular framework embracing different religions and showing the way to the world.

A farmer is essential to our survival three ties a day , he is the one who toiled in the blistering sun , incessant rain , freezing temperatures  all year around without a holiday . The next time you wish to make these idiotic half baked statements just to poke , you should realise we also came to the 21st century and got an education just like you! Find something concrete to debate regarding what is good for the farmer. 

Ps: the pizza base is made from wheat , the sauce from tomatoes , and every vegetable is grown in a field , and the seasoning like oregano is a herb , and the mozzarella cheese is from buffalos milk.#justsaying 

He who must not be named

 Dear Darling Indian Janta,

This is an open letter to you in regards to the main subject these days , no not covid or the vaccine for that we have crossed the barrier via clapping hands , lighting Diya’s drinking enough kadhas to drown all . I think distinctly we are all a shade of yellow thanks to the haldi we have had . But this is not even about the two obnoxious , nauseating actors who have tried to speak about the  subject , who have made fun of us and of our culture by speaking funny Punjabi .

I don’t even wish to talk about these two bits who are deluded and so misinformed and are power hungry . 

This is about the subject that should not be named . You know we cant talk about it . Lord Voldemort is a sobriquet for Tom Marvelo Riddle , a fictional  character in the Harry Potter series and was known as He who must not be named . There we were talking about him being the worst villain aka the evil wizard who was taking the world to the dark side . 

Here , its about what there is an unrest about . You know why those lakhs of farmers are sitting on the border who wish to fight for their livelihood. I feel , you all have forgotten that it cannot be downloaded or bought  in a can or bought from Amazon . Deliveries that are made to your doorstep , are grown in a field .

You know the land that is owned by marginal farmers , who till it , grow it and harvest it ; its an expensive process , then only the grains and the food that you consume is grown . 

I wished covid had taught you that we need good food to build and boost our immunity , but right now a section of the public and society is thinking its taboo and its who must not be named  .

Meri, pyaari janta , its not downloaded via google , its not available in a sack but grown . And people who grow it are called farmers . They don’t want the laws simple as that ! Why would you enforce the laws without consulting the specific party ? Even when we go to the hospital , we are asked to sign a form that tells us that we are agreeing to the operation and it can go either way . A NOC its called , so why not with the farmers ?

It so happens that the farmers have been misused all this time because they were manipulated, used for votes ( happens everywhere ) and are never consulted .If we can eat their food three times a day and sometimes we eat 5/6 times a day thanks to the new fangled diet why cant we give them subsidy and a coverage?

When would you eat food that was downloaded and available in binary numbers of 0 and 1 . Even for pooping , you need food and that is grown in a a live , to be touched and felt field and not on FarmVille.

Why as citizens of the country who have given the world Green Revolution , milk Revolution and Jai Kisan slogans now shying away from helping them?

Yes ,we are distinguished by our wrinkles and callouses on our hands and the flowing beards but the solidarity shown at the protest by every farmer cannot be divided into Sikh , Hindu or Muslim .

The hand that feeds the nation need not be named but it needs to be recognised . Do not get duped into labelling us as terrorists , or dividing us you different religions. 

Yes it was started in Punjab , because we were being affected but it the most , and we all got together to fight against it in a peaceful way and it’s become the largest protest ! From letting it be fiction start naming the problem , its all about the food , which we need three times a day and for that you. Need to thank a farmer . 

Aapki dost ,

Ravneet Sangha .

Ps :  The ones who must not be named are dimwit and nauseating and for reference for coming generations are allied Kangana Ranaut and Payal Rohatgi . 

Kangana da Tangana

 We don’t live in a bubble , nor do we think that we know and have everything or that the farm laws are affecting only us . Kangana da tangana carried on and Diljit really owns everyone’s hearts and he was true to his name by boldly answering back at an actor who loves to meddle at everything happening everywhere . She thinks India is hers only .

The problem is not that Kangana confused Mohinder Kaur with Shaheen Bagh Dadiji. The problem is that she thinks that these strong  women who have stood up for their rights and have been a beacon of the fight , can be hired for Rs 100 a day . This fixing of price on a woman’s integrity is deeply problematic and sexist .

Kangana has been answered back by a set of tweets and has the entire world entertained . His account went up and we all ended up unfollowing her . She has lost her credibility and all that she had gained . Far too many times she has jumped into the fire and remained unscathed but this time it was just taking a panga with the Jats who took grave offence on their old grandmother or the women being called out . Do you not have any morals or manners ? Or as they say do you value others with the same value you have of yours ie Rs 100.

This is a rant and rave and yes I am adding my two bits to it but she really pissed me off and hence this . 

The point is we all have to move on and now go back to refocus on the agitation and the protest at hand . For the first time , citizens who were moving to the capital were targeted with cold water when the temperatures in North India are dropping and these were all old men with flowing beards who all are like our grandfathers .

Next week we are going to have winter rain , yes there are enough provisions , langar , food , medicines and everything has been thought and provided of but what about the exposure to the cold . I fear for their healths . It is no mean feat to be outside and sleep there ... 

When we as farmers don’t want the law why is it being enforced ? We are not anti national , do not label us as terrorists and don’t spark off any confusion in the minds of the public by misinformation. Why do you forget that we are a part of your country and we chose you as the representative ? Vajpayeeji said ‘ Sarkar aye girl Jayanti per dash rehna chaie’ . One loves the country and its spirit and its ethos . 

 We witnessed a slugfest between a 12th fail who knows nothing and professes to know everything and is fanning her political ambitions on a subject that she has no knowledge of . But she was completely , Diljit Dosanjh-ed ! 

Let us all focus on the 9 th and hope that this was not mere entertainment for all but has led to a serious introspection of our society . 

Chardi kala for all

 Its Day 6 and protest continues. They challenged the farmers thinking they would cow down , go back after facing all the blockades, barricades , water canons and tear gas attacks and false cases that were implicating them for murder and attempt to murder. It became Punjabi vs the rest of the country and then it spiralled to them being called terrorists . They tried the old age scheme of labelling us as Khalistanis and thought that would make the public go against the support that was being garnered here and abroad . It also led to a shameful actress maligning an old lady as being available for hire as low as Rs 100 ( I’m sorry I am not going to forget and forgive this one ) and for the first time going to follow the hashtag of banning Kangana Ranaut . 

Imagine, the entire country has come out in support for these farmers who just happen to be Punjabi Jats and are the face of protest . Its just that we grow wheat , rice and also contribute milk to the central pool not to forget the maximum number of martyrs are from the state. I don’t remember anyone not dying just because it was for India or the homeland. One of the farmers rightly said , we cant have consensus in our own religious body , how can we want Khalistan ? A Sardar is an epitome of being strong , of being the protector of ones izzat , girls are told to take a taxi where the driver is a Sardar late at night , be it Bombay , Delhi or New York .

We are made to be the butt of every joke, of every drunk joke, of being flashy , ostentatious and flashy and to have grand life styles, have you ever gone to an ordinary farmers house? Have you seen how he toils ? He sleeps with one eye open looking towards the sky ..

This is true for each and every farmer , the protest has been joined by the Jats of Haryana , UP , Bihar , MP , Uttarakhand. The big brother Punjab has united one and all,says the Rajasthani farmer . 

Dividing us , has led to being unified with the rest of the country and the Azaan and the Ardas and the Pooja are all sung together . Its late at night and am snug in my fleece jacket , wearing warm socks and have the heater on , but my heart beats for my bazurg who lay on the roads covered with their blankets and quilts who have come in for the long haul but are being affected by the dip in temperature at night. They are all old and all  they ask as citizens of this country , as Hindustanis that the laws be taken back. Why is it hard to understand that we don’t want them? The countryside is ablaze with sending support , pinnis , dry milk , ladoos, Mathis and medicines . Someone is giving blankets, someone water , someone is singing , someone is tending to the sick , someone is making rotis on a tawi ... the love, bonhomie , the spirit of Chardi kala unites all and in the end the wrinkles of every farmer is one and doesn’t say he is a punjabi or a Hindu or a Muslim .

It shows the vagaries of nature and the steel nature that have built this country and can withstand anything . Let us continue our support and love and prayers for them . Hope and faith are what a farmers sows and he feeds the nation inspite of all the hardships he faces ...

This Ain’t Jatt and Juliet

 If he fights for Hindus , he is a saviour.

If he fights for the nation , he is a martyr .

If he fights for his rights , he is a terrorist .

These are the lines that are making the rounds and clearly shows how the media is manipulating the public . Punjab is on the move , thousands of farmers who are peacefully protesting and are moving to Delhi to register and is fighting for the repealing of the bills is met along the way by barricades, road blocks , roads have been dug up and police is targeting them with water cannons and tear gas. 

How do the old Jats with flowing beards and dressed in their kurta pajamas pose such a threat to the government ? Lakhs of farmers , men and women , old and young have moved with enough ration and supplies and some are walking by foot to Delhi intimidating the authorities that they stop on every road. .the barricades have been lifted, the road blocks put aside ,as we watch with bated breath ,and the fumes make the eyes water ,and leave skin rashes . They are also met on the way with stones .

Why does the simple Jatt be such a threat to all? You love making sardarji jokes , memes on us , on our turbans , on the flashy clothes we wear , you love our culture, you borrow it , every Bollywood movie has one song or one mandatory reference but now when we fight not for a handout but for  respect why are all of you quiet?

Cashing on Bhagat Singh, Battle of Sarainaga and even worse Udta Punjab but now , where are you all? In fact , the brightest of them tries to tell us that we have this old lady for hire , Rs 100 and she is at the forefront of every protest , be it Pakistani or this.

 Dear  Motormouth , don’t mess with us , you are from the state that was carved out from us , so don’t cash on the ridiculous . By playing the nationalist card , you cannot win votes or sway the public .if you’ve been following the march , you must have seen the heroic , proud farmer ,who walks on without any crux or backbone of a any political patronage or without any organisation as alleged by some . They also tried to insinuate that some ‘foreign power’ is financing them.

When you make jokes about us , you also know about our ethos where we are the most generous of the lot . Our  Gurus gave the world , the meaning of martyrdom , to save the Hind , they gave the world the concept of langar , where everyone is fed irrespective of caste creed, color or status . They taught us to give water to the enemy . And all this was in front of you ,where the old men who were hit by tear gas , fed langar to the security forces and were given water . We can give our lives to save the nation and defend the order and the same blood grows the wheat that sustains you .

Dont test the rebel , he is waiting to be challenged.The days are long and the gets even longer whe a sepoy lays down his life not he border whilst his father is on the way to Delhi . The high standards of misreporting are such that they label us as terrorists . why does the journalist ever worry about his moral or ethical code or is that so buried under the run for higher TRP? We are all in this together , don’t insult ,don’t humiliate us. 

It’s also not a fight between the sikhs and Hindus . Dont give it a communal color , don’t let the country burn Its the  Jatt , the son of the soil against the farmer . farmers from all over want this to end and why are we so vocal , because we are 2 percent of the population but we grow 40 percent of the wheat and rice . You’re messing with our livelihood where we will be at the mercy of a handful who will dictate prices and ruin us . 

If nothing else moves you, earn from the pandemic and remember its food that you need and the rupee . 

Lost in translation

 I love writing but sometimes as in the present times it seems futile because nothing changes . It’s like we are caught in a time warp and the state of the nation doesn’t change . One thinks the pandemic would change the hunger of the flesh or the base desires of human but every single day , every moment they come back with something worse and leave me with a heavy heart that breaks again and again . Last week in the country that is next to ours had the worst rape committed where a lady was travelling back with her children at night . The petrol finished and she stopped to ask for help , two men ( obviously ) overpowered her and took her after hitting , looting her and in front of the children repeatedly raped her . 

Why does this bother me ? I am an Indian , it shouldn’t bother me . I should be oblivious of this, I am safe , it wont happen to me and why did this woman travel late at night ? Why didn’t she take this road instead of that ? As my maid gave me her homespun advice ,she said koi baat nahi , aurat ki galti hoti hai hamesha , yehi dastoor hai . It doesn’t matter where or what she was doing or what she was wearing , society here or there will always have a list of guidelines, instructions outlined for a woman . 

She will always be too provocative, too daring , she asked for it , she posted pictures online, she said no . I have cried myself hear imagining the horrors but what got my gall was saying this that this is an elitist crime ,so that’s why its bothering me ? I mean really ?

How the blazes do you call rape , elitist isn’t that that’s why women are out on the roads ? Our countries are not safe for women , for minors , for religious , ethnic communities , for corpses, for animals ( yes animals too) . Anyone who has a voice , isn’t safe either . She is brought down to her knees, I know physically they over power her and they break her spirit and mutilate , defile . Our system is such that a woman who is raped , will shy away and hide her self , the woman said so to she said kill me and bhai don’t tell anyone . I broke down when I read this.

Don’t confuse this by saying it happened in Pakistan , it happens here too in large numbers. It’s hushed up , or just a hue and cry and the file makes rounds and rounds , lost in the dusty shelves of the police station and mysteriously a fire breaks down just because the accused is high profile . 

I think we all deserve for the world to end , the bestial , animal nature of man has raped the woman who gives birth , cradles him to life , carries him for nine months and no amount of reference to the Holy Books that give us a sacred place doesn’t save us . The scriptures give the highest position to women but lost in translation , it is .

I speak like Yoda right now , because maybe that might help us to solve and stop this rot. Public hangings , slow death chemical castrations seems what I suggest and I hope the day comes when this all is done and isn’t just a sop as always . Rape , is a four letter word ,say it , say it aloud , its akin to hate , and all we need is love and kind ( ness ) for us to survive . Society always has this list to curtail women , why not teach boys and men that this is fundamentally wrong and against any grain . When animals don’t rape , what makes us worse than them? Why will you not spare the two year old who was wearing a diaper? The skirt , the burka all cry but the diaper couldn’t even speak .

The next time you prostrate in front of the bir sahib , or at the temple , or sit in the pew of the church or even on your ceremonial mat to say your namaz remember it could happen to your mother sister , or daughters too.

Social Disancing vs Social bashing

What would happen if desi politicians spoke nicely to each other ? Would democracy fail? Will they lose themselves or maybe if they minded their Ps and Qs they might , just might help the failing GDP. The nonstop personal shots , the mud slinging carries on and they shout at each other at the top of their  voices.

Every day I sit in front of the idiot box ( that’s why its named such) thinking that I would hear something good and some enlightenment that how we would get out of this predicament of the grim scenario . During the news hour the opposition is more worried about whether the CM is out of hibernation from his farmhouse ? Is it because they want a personal tour? It is said to be tastefully furnished ! 

Why do you shout so much? It’s not the opera , its not as if you would be the next Domingo . Using slogans to incite ,instigate each other and the continuous twitter war isn’t befitting . You’ve got the Chinese sitting on your shoulder ready to invade us any moment , and all the national television channels show is the suicide angle of the deceased actor . Yes, it was a sad moment that cant be quantified but the media circus that we have made out to be along with the voyeuristic tendency of ours has made it as if we are waiting for Rhea to finally spill the beans of the next orgy she has planned complete with sex, drugs and rock and roll.

Why do we not let the judiciary decide who killed him or whether it was a suicide?its as if the journalist and newscaster all have their views just to prove that their channel has finally got the secrets to El Dorado.

I feel as a citizen we have a moral responsibility towards to the country and ourselves to act responsibly and not act as if we are here only for the #hour run of the movie  and then we go back to our homes lulled into false security that the danger is not ours to see. This is not the world of Harry Potter where we cant speak about the Lord who must not be named its us ,the public .

My maid , gave me the best home truth , she says hum logon ko Covid nahi hota ( we dont get Covid ) , hum log bachpan se haath dhota hai ( we’ve been washing hands in childhood ). It was the proverbial slap , as we worry about the pandemic arming ourselves with pills, Kadha, medicines and sanitisers galore . 

This holds true on all accounts , the proverbial washing of the linen in public . She really laid bare the reason of covid and in other ways of everything in life . Our habit or ingrained attitude to wash everything in public and forgetting to take care of our own persona hygiene is making us reach the plateau of having the highest jump in Covid cases. We need to check on ourselves and not worry so much about the next person and what is happening .This homily  by Heera is the benchmark , they’ve been washing hands for always , and we are a fault by acting hoity toity , and feeling as if we are blessed by the God’s just because we can afford the medicines , pills , its not a shield .        

Wash hands , wear the mask and move on from the social bashing that we all love to do . It is social distancing and not social bashing that the doctor recommends.             

Why do women bring down other women !

 An interesting question had popped up in one of the story ( Instagram one and not the Bollywood potboiler or the ongoing pandemic ) , it was why do women bring down other women and as always I couldn’t keep from replying and then this article came into being . A highly addictive web series is on , its called Churail and its airing on ZEE5 . In no way is this a paid sponsorship , all I ask for is good coffee and some cake . Do watch it and its the same psyche all over , men astray and have affairs and the wives wish to take revenge , in some cases prevent ..and so forth . I don’t want to let the plot out . Why do women talk, bitch , gossip , moan about other women , why are they nasty , why are they jealous , why are they envious?

I feel it comes out because of a lot of reasons ,women have pre designated roles to play in the society , their families . We are social selves and we have defined roles that pressurise us , which in turn lead us to having duality . Women are relationship oriented ,where we will strive to build bonds always and that’s an be seen as a threat to other women as they are also trying to build their relationship but feel threatened as they feel you are better . It stems from low confidence , lack of self esteem or anxiety . We also pick up more intuitively the body language of people around us and know the nuances faster . 

We have always wanted the approval of others , call it genetic conditioning or the fact millions of years of being subservient and seeking the stamp from men have made us like this. How many of you do things for yourself ? It is always to seek a yes from people , society , co -workers, colleagues ,boss, in laws , children , husband . The constraints and rules are laid down in black and white , but they are unwritten , invisible and handed down generation after generation . It’s the good girl conditioning . I also feel that our culture focuses on appearances , beauty , weight . We believe that our outward appearances are more important than our lived appearances.

It’s shallow world, yes , hence women judge . It’s a simple equation that women try to win or leverage their position in front of the male and they will bring down the other because of jealousy . A jealous person can have it all, cars , money , clothes , every materialistic possession but the they get jealous of your vie , your essence that cant be contained . Their is an energy , an aura, a glow that cant be matched by them hence they talk, or bring you down to a lower level and that can be use mere gossiping or commenting and to sow a seed of doubt.

Look around you , you are always judging , oh why is she fat , why is she not taking are of herself , why is she wearing that color, why is she posting so many pictures , why is she doing this? Instead , how many of you say good for her , maybe she needs help , how many reply on each other’s posts , or compliment or build her up , or build and adjust her crown so she may shine higher , better . 

When ever , someone gets assaulted , raped or acid is thrown , we will rush to judge and say oh she wore short clothes , why was she walking alone , why was she doing this? In the web series , its the woman who is entrapping the man , the poor man has no say , he just gets into an affair . It’s not his fault . The woman is blamed as if the man just lies down like a mummy (pun intended ) .

I would just like to say we have a hidden power , and collectively we have impact  and we can change everything . Traditionally we are told to be competitive because the best woman wins and they’re are a few jobs at the top. 

Women have faced an unconscious bias always , just shown in Gunjan Saxena , and yes by challenging the traditional roles we can break the stereotypes and that can only happen if we support each other. Just start by being kind , and having a voice together . Don’t demoralise, demean or bring her down , she also needs a shoulder to lean on. Being threatened by her isn’t going to help. And ‘ her success is not your failure ‘.

Acceptance

 Acceptance 

This word is a verb that means to say yes to something or to agree to something or agree to take something that somebody offers you . I did a podcast on acceptance of oneself and specifically my nose . Growing up as a young girl we all faced subtle and not so subtle hints that she has a fat nose, a pakora nose , or its too big and for me I was told it looked like Frontier Gandhi or it was a parrot nose .You know what , these moments stick and they do affect one subconsciously . The trauma a young girl goes through just because Auntyji and Uncle ji are bored and they want to fill the conversation gaps? And suddenly you are told it would be difficult for you to get marred just because you aren’t fair enough or heaven forbid you are fat or short or you have wiry  curly hair. They will give you 101 reasons. Indians or Asians are in general very judgemental and we have an opinion on everything and you know the nose I am talking about ; that’s the one they stick into everyone’s business. It’s longer than Pinocchio . 

Imagine that people are vehlato discuss your nostrils too ! I wish I could attach an emoji here but ...nothing else matters sadly , its a world that lays more emphasis on the physical manifestation and the outer cover. The only nose that launched a thousand ships was Cleopatras ( this is a reference to Asterix, and if you know , you know ). And the only other one that history registered was Julius Caeser’s who was her lover.

I did the podcast just because I had two memes . One was that if I could contour my nose I would rule the world and the second one was “ I think accepting your nose is the greatest form of self love” .

Girls , women , older women all have to constantly battle to prove their own worth in terms of color , shape of our eyes, hair ,body shapes and even in some countries the size of your feet , neck , waist to hip ratio . What about the beautiful soul that resides and beats inside and wants to be a bad ass entrepreneur or a businesswoman or a politician or a pilot or a master chef or just someone who wants to be or is waiting for their letter from Hogwarts? Why is the pressure to be successful? Why can’t we just be or live life simply?

The constant societal pressures that weighs / measures you by the success that you have in terms of position , money , the clothes should wear, appearances you project . Along the way , we start trying to put ourselves in a mould to be liked to be accepted by others and more than often it is physical . The society judges us by Soorat and not be Seerat . 

Men / young men, boys can be so cruel . One listener came back and told me that growing up in school one gets used to the constant teasing , heckling , teasing and then you try and get invisible . When you later go to university the comments get cheap , nasty as your physical attributes are dissected one by one , head to toe , its sickening . And she says, ‘ the boys actually put a value on what can be given to have sex with you or patao or have a setting , and it can be done for 1.5 to 2 lakhs and the crudeness is that ‘ eh kudi at ek killa di maar hai “ . To, ‘ eh mundiayn naal gall Kardi hai , that means she can talk to me and she is available?

Which God forsaken country  and language decided this? How is it that if a girl talks to you , it means she is interested in you. Or it’s acceptable to take it that she is available? Is she a bus seat to be occupied by your tush?

All the boys here she talks about are well educated , and belong to good families. It takes one line to bring a girls reputation down and what ever she says no one will believe her. It’s their words against hers and more often we will take out some flimsy excuse that she wore suggestive clothes , look at her profile or she talks too much .. 

When were all these crimes ? Why do you get intimidated? Why are you feeling threatened by her?

So , she grows accepting all this knowing that she will be judged , ridiculed or rejected on the basis of the pattern of her physical attributes! There are of course kind men who are different from this norm , but they are a few .

I wish in these Covid times , the world would be kinder to us , where we all are eating ourselves silly , so that the aliens could come and have a banquet and feast upon us. As a parent of two , all I can in the end give is my two cents or in my case two books is that give them so much love , kindness and be supportive so that they can come to you and be honest . Embrace them as they are , do not be judgemental and be ready to fight their battles like a mother dragon . Tell them that the snap chat filters, and the standards of fashion do not  dictate the worth of her . Getting married , having children and having the right khandaani Munda is not the answer to her existence . She should not be bartered that if she gets married , the nose piercing and the trips abroad will happen or she will get the designer stuff .

Honey she is a part of you , treat her now , spoil her now , let her be a princess now and also give her confidence to fly by accepting her for what she is . You , the parents are her backbones and you had her , it wasn’t a favour for the world . So own it .

Ps : Just as I finish writing this , two unidentified boys eve teased a girl that she got involved in a road accident and she died and she had just won a 4 cr scholarship to the US . However , in the end she was just a young girl who who was saying no and we weren’t accepting her No. 

Ravneet Sangha . 

Yeh Dill Mange More

Every morning, the first thing we all do is reach out for our phones and check our social media ,you’d be lying if you say you don’t. Maybe , you are the saintly one and you don’t . But all of us then proceed to sit on our thrones and scroll and check who posted what or what pictures had been posted . Today is , Kargil Diwas, and it marks 21 years of the heroic war that was fought by our soldiers on the treacherous slopes to overcome the enemy and claim back the peaks . 

So , I posted a single line status paying tribute to the years gone by , and the fact that it was Kargil Diwas. The sad part , is that I got four likes out of the 543 friends I have not that I was hankering for it to be trending or get maximum likes but the fact is that its not important . They will all see and not like the post , it hurts their gentle hands, but will keep on sharing mundane memes and go through stupid contests and other stuff that has no relevance.

Why is our patriotism so limited and so selective ? Barely two months have elapsed to Galway , but we choose to forget and go on with our lives as Corona hit us out of the ball park. You know as humans we are so selfish in saving our own asses that we forget in drinking kadhas and turmeric lattes and the ginger garlic shots we don’t even bat an eyelid for the soldiers who have died or die to save us so that we may worry about Corona.

Maybe I am being condescending or a sanctimonious prick but this has been galling me since last afternoon . Usually my sundays are lazy , I even switch off my from my Fitbit and give in to gastronomic feasts .

As a nation , we are so lost in divisive politics, game of thrones to bring Cersei and Tyrion to shame and worry more whether Dhoni would play or not . You know , if all the local leaders and the so called wannabe politicians would just com out in support of the armed forces and show some solidarity ad we could virtually support them ,out of your numerous friends there must be one army officer. Imagine how , you could choose to boost his or her moral by being behind me and acknowledging the supremes sacrifice. 

Think about it , they walked and walked to the peak wearing outdated World war 2 clothing ,trudging along without a care for their personal lives , knowing death was upon them and was raining down at them just because India counted on these brave warriors .

The least we could do is pay respect , yes we  have our own ways and I just wanted an old fashioned rant .. even the Beast’s heart started beating again when he fell in love , what would take for yours to beat again ? 

satvinder

There was no place on earth that come close to Punjab especially in the monsoon season . The sway of the fields and the green against the dark menacing clouds was just spectacular..breathtaking , and Satvinder and her friends were sitting next to the village pond and dreaming about pakoras . It was a must that when it rains its the duty , faraz of potatoes and onions to be joined in a batter and jump into hot oil as pakoras ! It was just one of the unwritten rules that all followed .

Her mother and father at home had another dilemma they were facing . Someone from the next village had come with a match for Satvinder , they wanted a winter wedding and all that was required was that she give an IELTS exam plus the 22 lakhs for the boys travel visa to the agent. It was a good match , the boy belonged to a good family , they had a reasonable farm and the most important was that he was the only son . They were connected and the father was the Sarpanch ( village headman ) . 

He had all the charisma , and outreach in the neighbouring villages and they’re izzat would be doubled in front of the biradaari . It all was that mattered to him, , daughters were expendable , and were just meant to be guarded till they reached the marriageable age and ‘rabb da shukhar Si ‘ she was gori Chitti and wasn’t wheatish like her mother . He had been wronged when he had been married.

Satvinder came home , without a care and ran in asking for a cup of tea from the maid , Rano. Rano was her confidante , her help , her true friend who would always help her to get out of scrapes. She knew not what she would do without her . Rano called her inside , and told her that a match had come for her and they were considering the pros and cons. She asked in jest , is he good looking ? Is he handsome? Where , what and how did everything happen ...

Rano told her all about him , and that what did they wish for her to. She didn’t mention about the money bit . That was Biji’s place to tell .

Giving an english exam wasn’t tough ,it was just an exam . She could study , and take classes and qualify . Living abroad in Canada was the stuff of dream and she would be away from all the oppression and the strict attitude of her father . She would have freedom and she could wear and do exactly what she wanted .

It all started with a small ceremony , they gave her a beautiful gold bangle and she loved it . Everything was just as what she had wanted and studying , giving her exam and talking to Satnam made life perfect . 

Satvinder was constantly coached by her mother over little nuances of life and how she should conduct herself. It was nagging sometimes. She shopped and days flew and everything fell in place. The whirlwind romance, the holding of hands, giving the exam and getting the requisite band that was needed by her. She knew that she looked beautiful on the day of the wedding , her lehenga and jewelry made her look like a princess !

And , it was like a dream that all had fallen in place and she looked at her jeans and herself sitting in the aeroplane . Her choora and mehendi was dark , ( she was a favorite of her mother in law ) . Satvinder started to sniff and cry thinking about her family , parents and everyone she had left behind but she knew it would be a start of a new beginning. She looked forward to it and Satnam was loving and he was also caring in his ways . Sometimes , he held her very hard when he kissed her and the entire act of lovemaking was just too hard . She had no one to ask , and googling said it gets easier .

A long flight and he was there to receive her . Everything was forgotten after she saw his familiar face in the sea of people and the buzz. Thank God ,her english was good and her ear for accent was very good. Her head was spinning , the time difference, the new place, the smells it all seemed alien. This wasn’t the image in her mind . But anyhow, she knew all would be fine .

Going home with Satnam , collecting luggage and reaching a tall building confused her. They were supposed to go to a home , those were the pictures she had seen. When she asked him ,he just this is a new flat ,  Ive bought, i wish to take you there . You’re my darling wife.

Anticipating the best , she knew her fears were unfounded. He took her up to flat and she also lugged in her extra bags . Walking in to the flat , which was new and brand new , she looked around. He took her to the bed , and that had been decorated with flowers on the side . The gesture won her over and he felt the weariness seep away . 

Would you want to eat something ? Do you want a cup of tea? , he asked .

Nothing , just that I need a bath and I will just come back . I need to get the smell off me , she said.

Coming back after washing her hair and wearing the new night suit , she came close t him . He hugged her and took her in his arms , and the frenzy of tugging and kissing started. She wanted him to go slow , but he was a man possessed. The roughness and the pinching and the brutality made her ache and she was sore . He even had hit her on the back and that had triggered his release . This didn’t seem right .

He rolled over and told her he’d back in the morning . She was tuned , what do you mean? 

I am married to someone here , her name is Janet . I just had to go with what my father wanted as he was threatening to disown me if  I didn’t marry a Punjabi girl . So , I just put some conditions and your father fell for all of them . He gave the money and I used it and you can live here for a month , the rent is paid , there is food in the fridge . 

She was shocked , trying to register what all was said . She was in Canada , discharged off by her father , as she fit the bill ,used by her husband to settle the score with his father and she had been just sort of been raped . What a life .Who would she call or what would she say ? 

She said Satnam , what did  I do wrong? I will be a good wife. don’t do this to me. My father will die when he hears of this . Please , please listen to me as he walked away . 

It was an act , I don’t care about you .Look at yourself, you’re pendu, no style , uncouth , simple woman who cant ever match me . You’re here in Canada , that’s what you wanted , now life your life .

He walked away. 

Shattered , shell shocked ,she sat down and dialler her father . 

Hello , Papaji .

Haanji , Ive reached , haanji I am fine . 

Oh , I am so glad , is Satnam there? He must be taking so much care , what a huge bungalow he has. You are so lucky . You are the envy of the entire khandaan and your Uncle says in a few years your brother can also come there after you get your citzenship. I am so proud of you . You’re my putt .

Hearing him say this, silent tears fell on her cheeks and she listened to him talking non stop and his happiness knew no bounds . She was in Canada and all that matters was that she could get them here.

Every Punjabis dream ... another girl lost her self .

Sheela

Her name was Sheela . She was so shy , that she just wouldn’t look up , it was as if she wanted to disappear into the ground and it be found. Her father had talked about the evening school that was being held and everyone went there and that there were free bags , clothes and stationary given to the children. she teaches them well but ‘Seedhi hai " ; she doesn’t know that they get free books from school . But kya Farak padta hai .

Let the children also go and maybe Om can learn something and pass his board .That is all that is needed and he can take up a job as a chowkidar . She was so happy that at least she would be able to learn something and maybe draw more.

Sheela didn’t mind carrying the books , that he gave to her carry as long as she was allowed to come for the class . The teacher was fun , lively and she could do her homework and sometimes she gave them time to draw. She even showed her drawings to the entire class ! Sheela loved that ; even if she felt so and could not speak up when they were clapping for her.

And next week , the teacher had planned a visit to the city and it was for a general check up . The first they would be having ever. It was in a private hospital and they wouldn’t t be paying anything . Food wold be given , and something to drink. They had all made badges for themselves and theyre were a list of instructions to follow.

School was great , class was brilliant ,and it was ok to do the chores at home and then to press Pitaji and Chachaji’s feet . This was a century old tradition and it didn’t matter where you were living or what century or what time it was if they come back ,it was her mothers and her moral duty to press their feet till they slept.

Bechara, had worked all day long and they were the bread winners and were purush . It was followed in all castes . 

The day came and she was very excited . It was a field trip and she was going to the city . She dressed in her long skirt and choli , took her chunni and did her hair in her trademark in red ribbon . That she loved , her hair in a plait and a fat red ribbon at the end.. 

Sitting in a bus and looking out and dreaming they reached the hospital . Sheela hadn’t ever seen such a huge building, it was bigger than the cold store also . The lurching of the bus had made her a bit queasy but everyone around her was normal and were all joking . The girls wore bright suits and Chunnis and some had the glittering pendant sold at the nukkad shop. All of them had worn eye liner or Kajal . She knew she looked lovely . 

They went in proper lines and started getting their first general health check up . Teacher ji , had said she would get her eyes also checked up , her constant headache must be dealt with .Maybe she had a tumour and that meant she would die .

Sheela was in the line for girls and they were taken in to the female ward . A doctor did their heigh and weight and a quick prick o check her blood . This would help in knowing about the country and they would be give supplements to become strong.

Suddenly there was commotion , and Ma’am came running . She asked what it was , a cacophony of voices were coming and they all were talking at the same time . Ma’am , she’s fainted , she fell ,she’s wet herself.

I was aghast , what had happened . I had taken responsibility for every one of them and I knew what was coming when I went back home .

The Gynaecologist took me aside and said it’s normal , she wet herself when the nurse asked her to remove the skirt and she fainted when I explained that I was going to examine her. After much persuasion , I examined her . She is suffering from severe depression and has been sexually abused .

The day changed from light to dark. Everything became grey and the sharpness of black and white went and all that I had strived for was lost .

We came back and all the kids were happy and they all had medicines and further appointments and follow up . At least something went right and all was not lost .

In my hubris and lack of finesse , I thought calling her parents and complaining about this would smoothen things . I wanted to protect and shelter and get her to talk. The shyness and the mannerism was all because of her being abused repeatedly and her stance was all typical .The words rang in my ears and I knew I had to help. 

I called the father from work ; after all he worked for us . Why would he not listen ? And he had to listen and fix this . Fathers are supposed to protect , they are meant to shield from any harm . I was all charged up and waited and fired up , geared up to fix this . 

Evening came, twilight came , birds settled and it was dusk time. The father came and I explained delicately that I need to take her to the doctor for lady problems ... 

He said yes ,I wills end her , she will go to the doctor for sure.

I slept so well that might , thinking that I could save her and draw her out of her shell. Next morning , I sent our Man Friday , Panditji to get her so we may take her to the doctors for a private consultation .

The room was all empty ,stripped bare , naked and all that was left was a red ribbon fluttering on the window grill.

Shaufta

Every day , you think life would be different. You think , ok another sun rise , and its a new day , dawn and all that bull shit spiel that you sell yourself to live another day . But , you know what , it doesn’t change . You psyche yourself everyday that oh things will be better. The planetary positions thanks to the solar eclipse , and the ongoing lunar eclipse that was coming forth would have a positive influence . But it didn’t matter.

If you have a point , you’re stubborn and stupid ( aka big reveal you’re a woman ) and if you have an opinion you have these labels. But if you’re a man , thanks to the biological assets given to you by the Holy Father , you are on the other hand forceful , manly . Men actually know everything beta , how many times had her grandmother told her this?

Crying , she knew this would be told her . She had to understand and adjust and compromise that was what was expected of nice girls who belonged to good families.

Where did they get these adjectives as nice , good? Shagufta thought . What was worse in these Covid times? Being a Muslim or a woman or a wife or being married ? Everyone of these situations were damning her and she was suffocating . She wanted to take online classes and teach the students and earn some money. In that way she would be independent and she could also while away her time and use it constructively .

What is the point of an education if it comes with the sole purpose to marry ? All her friends were educated , they all had dreams but apparently that didn’t matter , you just needed to marry well. Education was a tick in the check list and not to be used for employment purposes.

She wanted to change the lives of others but right now it was as if she had no control over hers.

Ali , didn’t even take her side. He was the one who abused her with these. Appeasement and love was just temporary to have sex and to get over with the physical urge , she doubted it was anything to do with love . Love was just an over rated emotion ;she had provided him and the family with the three children . She was expendable with the three words , nothing that the Modi government had done had changed her life, it was just a publicity exercise.

What did they know about the reality ? 

Shagufta ,just knew that she could die and life would go on after the janaza . A few tears would be shed , lot of wailing would be done and two weeks hence , they would start saying oh bechara Ali , needs to marry . Who will look after his kids? He needs a companion , he needs someone to take care of his needs.

She knew , if the situation was reversed nothing like this would happen . No one would ask her to remarry , no one would wonder where her physical or other needs would be fulfilled . It would be deemed ok for her to live like a widow and deal with everything in her own way .

The monsoon season was on them , and Lucknow was going to get flooded again, especially her street and by lanes. The first drop of rain , the unbelievable sensual fragrance that couldn’t be bottled would escape and it was as if everyone’s temper and all the anger and frustration would just melt away.

Ali , came back and asked for his cup of tea , she made it in the way he wanted and he got busy with his phone . Lost in his world , he kept on checking his messages and time elapsed. Dark clouds kept on gathering ,and it seemed any moment it would rain . He shouted again for his chai, it was a sacred routine , coming back and chai and then unwinding . The first cup back from his office was all that mattered to him . The cup was there and she came to pick it up and then replace it with another cup of steaming tea . He shouted as he did , you stubborn , stupid woman. How many times have you told I want my chai ? Why cant you get it right ? You’re useless and not worth anything . Didn’t your mother teach you anything ? Why don’t you go away form my sight ? 

Ask my ammi to make the tea .

She went away . 

As the clouds darkened and the wind started blowing like a banshee , everyone knew the monsoon rain had arrived and the oppressive heat would be lifted . As the first drop fell, a sudden creak was heard . Ali heard it and dismissed it , must be one of the stairs and went back to his school group . Someone had sent a nude clip and he was getting aroused . When the creak changed to a loud thing falling , he knew something had broken . He got up , and shouted Shagufta , Shagufta Kay hua , Kahan ho ? Kya Gir Gaya.

He opened the door , and the first smell of the raindrops came and he saw her swaying from the fan , with her chunni , chair fallen .

Rain fell incessantly , and she had also escaped .. forever .