A sign of our times

The Clichéd Woman and the Dandified Man - A sign of our Times.

Gone are the days with due permission from the wind (global warming you see) when woman wore demure clothes or always had the veil covering them. The men also dressed simpler and were not too worried about the color of their skin and the shape of their eyebrows.

Meet today’s woman, the seven for humanity hugging jeans, legs slathered in the tightest possible way, wearing a Zara Top with just the right amount of tantalizing cleavage showing with the seductive bit of lace peeping hinting of forbidden desires or is it a I don’t give a damn attitude confirming to the modern woman. She is perfectly coiffured with hair so straight that a man would slide off these tresses, with danger to his neck if he ever would want to play with them aka Meena Kumari pakeezah style. Today’s woman is dressed in head to toe in her designer wear from the Gucci sun glasses to the shiny new I have arrived status of the LV bag (note it has to be the patent one) and the dainty wrist encased with the Omega oyster watch. Of course, today’s woman cannot pick up her own progeny; the maid does it for them, the baby’s too heavy, my dear! But the spondylitis causing bag which is a Pandora’s box of wipes to the mysterious sun block, the cell, the battery juice pack without which no self respecting woman would step out and of course the main stay of Indian women the kajal (but alas, it is not the home grown Khadi kajal stick, it has to be a Chanel or a Dior stick, safe for eyes) and then the gloss, which will be used discreetly or in the face by them to make the pout more sexier. 

Ms. Khatoon dresses according to the international colors, so now the autumn shades are in play and she asserts it with shades of rust and a bit of olive green and then stuns with the purple. Her main aim in life is not to divulge her source from where she bought her clothes or her shoes. Currently, I believe we want a Tory Burch and a Tod’s bag to flaunt. Ms. . Khatoon and her gang continuously flit from one haunt to another immaculately clad, groomed to the bits with the base, make up all layered and eyes teased to perfection with the carats framing their angelic faces. Coffee times, driving around the Geri route, and to be seen at the right places and oh I forgot the first preview of every designer collection. Where else can I flash that toned, rightly tanned leg under a perfect subtly crumpled linen dress with hair artfully messed up as if you had just woken up but took three hours to set  and yes just the kohl line eyes behind the artsy fartsy glasses and the big chunky watch which tells others of one’s  social standing and the big fat pearls all dividing the old money and the noveau riche.

In fact, there were unwritten subtle codes for every event be it a wedding, an akhand path, lunch, dinners and the most difficult being a cremation. Does any one realize how difficult it is to wear a suit? A pastel shade one, or the perfect whiter than white with subtle embroidery and the Pakistani shalwar straight from Miyan ji from Lahore? One had to be remorseful but had to be still artistically made up, the right kind of sheen and the nude look.

Men have it so easy, just wear a linen shirt and the jeans, a bit scruffy and the loafers. So easy. But, today’s man is a dandy straight from Victorian times; his grooming takes more time than any woman’s. He regularly visits the facial wallah or is it a wali (?) to get the right skin tone, no pores and eyebrows picked, plucked to have that craggy look. Today’s man is confident in all his skin treatments for his beautiful mane that is proportional to the virility of the man. In fact, given the testament to the hair clinics mushrooming in India it seems all the men are secretly bald.

Today’s metrosexual, or whatever sexual labeling it is, treats his skin to the best treatment available only from Molton Brown or Penhaligon’s. He is careless or careful to just wear the right clothes all carefully showing a nonchalant put together attitude. The tie has to be a Burberr , the belt a Bottega and the money clip from Gucci and mind you , the watch ( again a big fat one ) from Tag and then we come to the biggest symbol of them all , SUV’s.

That is another story in it self, the projection of oneself through the car is like the little lost boy who never grew up in today’s world.  

What surprises me is the ease in which they have embraced all this far from the perception one had . It is mud packs, , to skin softeners, to special hand creams to hair coloring ( argh) and primping one self . Its ok to look good and be normal but to fight for mirror space alongside your wife on the vanity , well I always knew I was old fashioned .

Lahore Times

They look the same, they smell the same and have the ear nose ears all in the right place, and even when you touch them they feel human! I am not talking about the android robot offerings from Honda but my cousins across the border. I happened to visit Lahore, a whirlwind tour but so much fun. Yes, it is an Islamic country, different from the secular overtones that we have (sometimes questionable but largely true); there are mosques everywhere, beautiful buildings of worship with intricate architecture and amazing work.

Lahore city never sleeps, and read all about it here, it never shuts down, there is a sense of action, a spirit that lingers in every corner. If one were to roam around in the city at any hour, well people are pulsating with life and a spirit that is essentially Punjabi. Yes, we have an invisible border line dividing us drawn by some guy who had no idea how to divide a nation where people are culturally the same, eat live speak the same language. It was ironical, crossing a painted red line I was in Pakistan, the country I love to hate. Pakistan is a rival country that we want to best every cricket match. As one retired Judge Shabbar Rizvi said, the media hypes the match /contest to such an extent that it translates into the next war between the countries. What is this animosity?

Coming to this a bit later, I have my two bits on this. Lahore is an extremely manicured city (the parts where I visited) it has its colonies or societies which are lifted off Europe, landscaped by some designer, luxury personified. This portion of the population lives in a bubble of luxury competing for designer brands and giving the Japanese a run for their money over the obsession for all that is ‘phoren’. The country’s swish set is singlehandedly supporting the sales of every major designer brand and the current obsession with Tory Burch along with supporting the Belgium diamond market.

Thank God, the Lahori babes have an intuitive mindset like us Punjabis! I would hate for them to miss out on this mad rush to be identified by designer brands and the bigger rocks. It makes the heart warm just seeing the bigger bags and hands manicured with the perfect cut stone, glittering away and blinding the common folks.

However, the typical Lahori outranks us over his amazing capacity to eat! The foodie is in gastronomical heaven here. Every nook, corner, and, street has a specialty which is mouth watering. Food and its preparation and when its meant to be eaten along with its accompaniments have been perfected especially it seems at their French counterparts knees. And then the amazing cafes and coffee jaunts. A particular street which has more pot holes than any self respecting street in Punjab has the maximum number of designer places and hang out joints where the swish set is seen and heard.

I saw the best of feudal Pakistan Punjabis that are the elitist who live in a bubble of luxury from a time of the past, just that the transportation is now the favored BMW and the big mean Land Cruiser SUV. Of course, the simple servant – driver does not raise his head or his eyes, servile; his position is a different story. The difference is too great and if one looks glaring, but as they say we all are a study in contrasts. The friends I have there are typical Punjabi, with big hearts and open arms and a can- do attitude adopting to the changing agricultural scenario and keeping pace with the world. They also have an underlying radical fundamentalism for their religion, which I think, is justified in the times of Islamic- baiting done by the west. That, is a sensitive topic and not to be touched here.

Yes, the women are beautiful and I was coming to that; but we have more freedom and equality! India rocks, simply put it that. Of course, love on both sides of the border is fraught with drama as we can see!

But, yes visit Lahore to be born, too peel off layer after layer of a city that is immersed in history with architectural delights touching every major religion of the sub-continent.And , yes to shop to one's heart delight for the amazing clothes where the cuts are unbelievable.

The League of Extra Ordinary Grey haired Women

The League of Extra Ordinary Grey Haired Women

I saw the most amazing tattoo today on my friend’s wall; for the uninitiated it is not a boundary wall, nor the wall of my friends house but our friendly neighborhood networking /adda’s! The graphic description of two women who were showing their delicate backsides standing on a beach with an amazing sunset at the back; and the old woman condescendingly saying to the other,” Don’t worry my dear, mine used to be an eagle too”. Time and gravity sort of distorted it.

Reality hits, reality bites! Imagine my surprise when my hair (who have their own leftist union) just refuses to take color. They just don’t want assimilate color, nope nada zilch is the scenario. As, my Basanti says,” Memsaab five rupees and kesh kala it is. “

The streak is getting longer and darker or is it whiter? Visions of grandeur and elegance of Nafisa Ali and Waheeda Rehman and likes sweep my mind in slow motion.  I can imagine myself walking down in a perfect chiffon sari with a pearl string and an elegant chignon with a perfect line of white hair blazing testament to my maturity and advancing years.

Alas, I wish my hair behaved in this picture perfect way and in the same fashion as society wants us to be. However the hair behave with a mind of there not being subjugated by the norms as life dictates. Society, wants women to be seen and not heard. She has these unwritten laws which one has to follow, look beautiful be razor stick thin, have the right curves, and the worst one be white. What does white mean, or the weird one written in the obnoxious matrimonial advertisements ‘ wheatish complexion’? Why are we obsessed with fair and lovely, the bane of our existence?

Coming back to my unruly, wild black peppered with grey hair is seeking an independence that is so denied to us.

Women are being killed on the altar of the saddest of all crimes of being of the wrong X chromosome, of not bringing in enough dowry, and the bizarrest of all a Karnataka Judge advocating that a woman should bear her husband’s cruelty as it is her duty to bear his displeasure.

Where do these paragons of virtue come from brandishing law and dictates to the better half?

Women need to be left alone, let them be what they want to be, if we want to be grey well grey it, in fact the fastest selling novel of all times also has a shade of grey.

We, in totality are a league to be reckoned with. The only way we can overcome the superficial and hypocritical double standards set by men who incidentally came from us and not the biblical rib is to be strong and bring out the reserves of confidence that is in us.

However, till this revolution occurs maybe when MNC’s stop fooling us with miracle hair color that will make you vibrant, and you will have luxurious fly by night hair it is another trip to the salon, or as in my case my trusty Basanti who will try once again to color and tame my hair with age old secrets of mehendi and you guessed it, oil!

 Ravneet Sangha

innocence and all

I live in a pind , you know a hamlet lovingly described by writers all over the world. Mine has all the usual ingredients found in every village of Punjab, four or five gurudwaras, a couple of temples, at least one Muslim pir’s grave looked after by the wakf Board of Pakistan, one or two baba’s who have localized following promising a trip to phoren, and the other finding a right groom. There is also the village pond, the swimming pool where buffaloes, kids and fish swim in perfect harmony.

Green fields all around, a slithery snake like dusty road encompasses it and leads it to the next one; we are as Hardy put it ‘far from the maddening crowd’ surround my pind. In fact, the villagers also live in the modern world but are still caught in the medieval times. In fact, my maid Raman, who finishes her work so that she can watch her favorite soap at 11: 30 am sharp on Star Plus. She loves being transported into the age of heavy impressive saris, the flowing perfect hair and the jewelry thinking that is how people live in big cities. Her idea of a perfect life is the romance so portrayed by the actors perfected to the hilt. One day, she was very listless and I jokingly asked her,” what happened to your serial?” don’t you want to watch it? She replied, no, no I am not well. Every day when I go back home I get fever and in the morning I get better and I come to work, but today I feel a bit weak.

This carried on for a few days and I remembered to ask her again and she told me, oh I am fine now. My grandmother told me to take a dirty serving spoon and sleep with it at night. So last night, I did this and put it with me to bed and now I am better.

I, as you know am still dumbfounded and quiet.

The other day, as all housewives I go through crazy moments of cleaning madness (lot of women will nod to this one!) and have two adorable labs that are higher in the pecking order than me! One of them, the older one Simba is loosing hair maybe coz’ he misses a mate or is just plain old growing old (that is one thing we all are denying in the face) and I asked Raman, to dust him too with a broom as his hair were all over and I was getting tired of dusting his hairballs from everywhere.

Well, Madam Miss Know it all, turned around and said that if she did that, he would get a cough. I am just learning not to laugh and just nod my head in acquiescence.

She, like the rest of India, is still caught in a time warp and still clings on to the time old superstitions that govern them. They are not bothered about an I-phone 5 launch, whether it is slimmer fatter or lighter or how much it costs, she lives her simply not bothered whether we scale Mars or not, or who dies or who lives. Life for them is living daily form sun up and sun down and living it stoically minus the humdrums of us hyper class.

As I write, this it’s Thursday and she has just informed me, she has to leave by 6:30pm as she has to go pay obeisance to Baba Miyan Sai because he cured her of her leucoderma. I know she is talking of blind faith but I’m thinking take –out for dinner!

Ravneet Sangha 

Down the rabbit's hole

 Down the rabbit’s Hole …

Where is society headed?  A society is a loosely congregation of people who live together governed by unwritten laws. Nowadays, we are governed by zilch, nada. Do we have any morals, any standards any etiquettes left or they have become extinct as the dodo.

Mythology is what will become of the society that was once famed for its tradition, an unwritten set of laws, which governed and separated us from animals defining us as humans.  The famous comic illustration books Amar Chitra katha have already hired designers to recreate the long lost era.

India as a whole seems to be on a path of self destruction where cartooning is taken as an offense as in the case of Aseem Trivedi, a high court judge rules that violence or wife beating is allowed and a woman should bear it. We go through the worst periods of history where corruption is at its zenith and one forgets how many zeroes figure in the scams hitting the country. The public still lives in hope, silently picking up its pieces and living on daily foraging a life.  States where a woman is easily bartered and killed, as he does not bring dowry or the mere fact that she is not producing a male child.

Why do we forget that it’s definitely not in her hands?

Another shameful episode marks the degradation, is the physical violence that a woman bears trapped in a loveless, emotionally blackmailing marriage. Why?

‘Indian law is spineless says’, Daljeet Singh a blogger and a businessman based in Delhi. A woman whether she belongs to the highest echelons of the society or to the lowest. Violence is prevalent everywhere it does not see color creed or money. Satinder Kaur, an Nri corporate woman remarks, women need to be strong, and women need to collectively raise their voice.

The violence which is explained as falling of the stairs, a knock on the door, corridors is hidden the bruise fades from eggplant to yellow and then nothing; but the scars remain etched in a woman’s heart her psyche and the tears which have no value for this deaf mute society. Empathy has finished or maybe we didn’t know bout it. Our religion that has droves flocking back to it, the spirituality that has the world under its spell is actually just a farce, the best money making business in the world.  Spirituality exists, not because it feeds the soul but because it feeds the Gods of Mammon. My apologies, to the real gurus, though.

 A Professor in a local engineering College aptly sums up the, hypocritical and two-faced Janus of a society we live in, ‘Two things that India lacks are major propellants of this culture- Education and respect of women. Men going out for a drink is socializing, women going out is frowned upon and obscene names are used, Lady in our society is for doing Chula, mulching the buffaloes, raising the kids and serving a hot meal to the drunkard husband whenever he comes back from a binge session. Drinking by men is called machismo, but a lady who socializes is looked down upon. Women need to fight and raise their voices and if nothing works, Bobbitization will!’

We live in a patriarchal society where men rule the roost, literally coupled with insecurity woman face physical abuse and mental abuse all day long.  The insecurities of men who do not have jobs are drunkards, drug addicts or have other failings translate these by hitting out. Lashing out like a bully is the only answer and sexual abuse which a woman bears silently.

A lady based in Mumbai, Rinnie K. Gill who is a singer points out that ‘ lack of financial independence is what really makes women face abuse. She is first looking out for herself and then her children, and she sinks into a vicious circle spiraling down to an abyss.

Every day we have reports, incidents of infants found behind bushes with the umbilical cord intact, or maimed by birds, with insect bites and what do we do, shake our heads politely, murmur the noises and make sympathetic noises, but do we do something, no. One asks, what can we do, well start somewhere, if one doesn’t get on the road how will you end the journey? The society in short needs a radical upheaval, economic success, prosperity all follow as is the law of nature but till we don’t learn how to give respect to the mother of all, we cannot take a step forward. Nature wreaks havoc and fury as she rebels against this lawlessness and imbalance. The atheists who smugly ask where is your God at this moment, I would just say one thing, the higher presence is with in you, look within and the purity shall shine through. We, just need to unmask the science, the godly power to pull ourselves out of the rabbit hole just like Alice but here not in fiction but in reality.