Walking in the moon light!
Yesterday was full moon night and we- Krishna, Chinku and his friends- two Ajays and Girish – were on the beach. The night was beautiful and bewitching. The typical evening crowds had returned to their homes; so had the venders on the beach. Only few romantic couples wandered around in the cool breeze making the night cozy and lively. Girish, a friend of my son from Gulbarga Central University, belongs to Palakkkad, the place of Porattunatakkam- a sort of theatre. I had experienced this art form in my childhood, when we lived in a small house near the Bharata Puzha. The villagers organize this drama during the harvest festival on a makeshift stage in the paddy field. When the night falls, the villagers gather there in the paddy field with mats and plenty of eats; the old ones with betel nut boxes. The actors wore colorful costumes: very different from their real life drudgery. There were no women actors; so the men dressed themselves as women and with extraordinarily larger boobs as if that was the symbol of womanhood. They would use the local dialects and the songs were rusty but appealing to all. We, the girls, always sat together while the boys sometimes went to the back- stage to peep into the makeshift greenroom. In fact, they only told us that the women characters who came on the stage were actually men.

Girish sang a poratunatakam song for us and also another folk song pleasing the snakes. Snake worship was common in Kerala and we used to have a small area covered with lots of trees and climbers (Pambukavu), exclusively for the snakes. It had idols of snakes carved in rock. Snakes were fed, once in a week, with milk. It was again a belief that snakes come out and drank the milk when we moved away. And we never questioned that; though the texts we read taught us that snakes do not drink milk. Diyas are lighted every evening. And whenever we saw a snake in the courtyard (those days it was not un common), my grandma would never allow us to disturb the snake; instead, she would calmly talk to the snake, “why did you come this time? Haven’t we given your dues? If not please forgive us: please don’t disturb the children. Go away.” And unbelievably, the snake used to go away. So we always thought that Grandma had extraordinary powers.

Girsih’s songs brought so much memories of my childhood in the village; I can still the smell the paddy in my mind. Grandma is still alive; but without her magical wand. Her paddy fields are gone. And her old tiled house which became unfashionable for her children has given way to a house with concrete roof. The old house had an “ara” (a dark wooden chamber meant for storage place) which was a treasury for all the children. She used to store so many eats there – bananas, salted mangoes, unniappam, achappam and even sugar. We used to devour the ara often; especially during the vacation. Once my twin brother stole a mouthful of sugar without realizing the ants in it! Ants bit his tongue mercilessly and he cried out quietly. He did not cry aloud for obvious reasons!

Now it was the turn of Ajay to sing and a thorough a city bred kid that he is, he sang an English song and my son joined him. They brought me back from nostalgia to the realities of the present. We sat there for long looking at the moon and the magic it spreads on the sea. You may say the moon is the same. But my moon in childhood days was a very different one: it had a different meaning in my life. Here sitting with these children, though the same age group but so different in attitude, behavior and brought up in different cultural settings, I realize that I am neither here nor there!

Valley of Flowers (Photos by Chinku)

We had read about Valley of flowers and did not want to miss it at any cost. We reached Govindghat—the place from the trekking to the valley starts—early morning. We carried the necessary food, clothes for an overnight stay at Gangria and enough water. Unlike Kedarnath, there were no shops on the trekking path. And only two villages are there on the way. So it is better to carry all the necessary items from the base itself. Chinku, who was enthusiastic about finding new trekking paths, lost his way at one point and for an hour or so we could not communicate with him at all. I panicked. He was back finally with some bruises that happened while climbing up the rock.

We walked along the banks of the wild, but beautiful, Alaknanda. Like Kerdarnath, the first few KM were easy going but then the trek became too steep to climb up. The only tourists we met on the way were a Sikh family and they were returning from a visit to Hemkund Sahib Gurudwara. At some point we were even too tired to talk. It was a never ending trek! Finally, late in the afternoon we reached. Only one hotel was open and we got some rice and dal to eat. And it was a feast after that long trek.

The Valley of Flowers is just 3 KM up from Gangria. This stunning Valley was introduced to the world by Frank S. Smith, a botanist by profession in 1935. We started our trek to the valley early morning. The weather was very chilly and windy. But this time I was some what prepared; few warm clothes and a woollen cap and two pairs of trousers too! We were the only people on the breathtaking trekking path. No ponies are allowed here and that protects the sanctity of the area. We walked through a broken bridge and a hanging bridge over the river Alaknanda which runs passionately. It was beautiful to walk through the not so well laid pathway looking at the flowers and early birds. Unfortunately, the season has not begun. The first flowers were just coming out. However, at that moment the whole valley was ours. We sat on a rock watching the stunning enormous peak and down there the glacier where Alaknanda begins. The ethereal beauty! Time stops here!

We started back to Gangria, once again through the beautiful pathway. To make it gorgeous, the sun was playing hide and seek through the wild trees. We stopped in many places; this time not because we were tired but wanted to stand still and enjoy the serene atmosphere – far away from the maddening crowds. We were in a trance. And I want to come here again, when the whole valley will be blanketed with flowers. Krishna collected a bottle of water from the untouched river and I am preserving it as a treasure now.

We were back in Govindghat; this time not by walking but on a pony. Different experience- we – Chinku and me enjoyed enormously after the initial discomfort. But Krishna was yearning to get off the beast! And next day back to Haridwar and a night train to Delhi

So that was the end of our trip!

Badrinath (Photos by Chinku)
Our next destination was Badrinath. Joshimath is the ideal place to camp to go to Badrinath and the valley of flowers. We took a jeep to Gupt Kashi, another one to Rudraprayag and a bus to Joshimath. We were in Joshimath by the evening. Now I have got used with the stomach churning rides through the hills. We checked into a small place called Morning Calm Hotel opening to a huge parking space cum playing ground. When we reached there at least three teams were playing cricket in different parts of the ground and the small children looked the most serious ones. I happily watched their gestures; surely, they were highly influenced by the TV.

The mutt set up by Adi Shankara was adjacent to our hotel. We visited the mutt, the cave where he lived and the kalpavriksh under which Shankara meditated. We were told that the shiv linga in the cave was formed out of spatika - ice hardened over the years and does not melt now. People from all over India come over here to get the blessings and they worship the kalpavriksh (a mulberry tree wrinkled with age) too. I picked up one leaf and kept it carefully in my purse. Just for the memory. Not only Adi Shankara, I too visited the place!

We waited for the jeep to Badrinath for quite a long time. It was a special day for us: Chinku’s results came. He did not disappoint us. To Badrinath, you don’t have to trek; it is accessible by road. Thanks to the Indian army and the Sino-Indian border only a few kilometres from the shrine. You just walk across the bridge over the holy river, Alaknanda, to reach the temple. We were welcomed there by a hail-storm. Chinku found his black jacket covered by the snow very fascinating and he wanted me to take a photo of it. My hands were frozen; we were not prepared for such a cold weather. And his request was rejected. There is a hot water spring near the temple. It saved us from the freezing cold.

We visited the ‘closed’ Badrinath temple, abode of Lord Vishnu. This was the place where God Vishnu came to meditate after being reprimanded for indulging in worldly pleasures. It was nice to know Gods also get punished once in a while. The temple will be open within a couple of days. Interestingly, in Badrinath temple, the pooja is performed by a Malayali priest, who will come all the way from Kaladi, Kerala during the season. It seems this arrangement was made by Shankara himself.

On our way to Badrinath, we had seen the men from BRO (Border Roads Organisation) removing the debris of a major landslide and we had to stop there for an hour or so. But while returning, the place was very much motor-able; hats off to BRO, they are doing a great job in Uttarachal! We were back to the hotel late in the afternoon.
Next is Valley of Flowers: no Gods and Goddesses; just nature!

Kedarnath (Photos by Chinku)

Gowrikund is the base (this is the last point one can reach by bus or cabs) before trekking to Kedarnath. From Uttarkashi to Gourikund, it is long route through Srinagar, Rudraprayag and Gupt Kashi. It was, indeed, an adventurous trip for us, watching our mini bus negotiating the steep hilly road (in some places, not even proper roads due to landslides). We were the only tourists in the bus; others were the people who lived there; in the hills. They mostly slept or talked to each other loudly in Garhwali. Even the conductor of the bus joined them. The Chamba region is beautiful with the peepul taal (peepul lake) in the back ground. Its water appeared greenish blue from the bus. One can feel the shrinking forests on the way. May be the mammoth landslides are nature’s fitting reply to human greed.

Our 12 hours journey from Uttarkashi ended in Gowrikund in the evening. We got a clean, freshly painted room in the Behl Ashram Guest House for a reasonable amount. Season is yet to start! As the name indicates, the temple at Gowrikund is dedicated to Gowri (Parvathi), wife of Lord Shiva. The myth is that Parvati meditated here for a long period to get Shiva as her husband. Indeed, this is a nice place to meditate; having a reason or not. The green blanketed mountains, wild flowers and the misty air. The nature is in abundance here! A serene ambience! Another major attraction in Gowrikund was the gharamkhund (the hot water spring). That was a delightful discovery; in the cold weather a bath in the steaming hot spring water (which has medicinal values too). The tiredness from the long journey left us within minutes. And later on, Krishna became obsessed with the gharamkhunds.

After a good night’s sleep, we were ready for our trekking, early in the morning. We stored biscuits, dry fruits, water and few aloo paranthas packed from the nearby hotel. (We had arranged for that the previous evening itself). The people there advised us to take ponies, but we decided against that. We were prepared for the climb; at least that’s what we thought at that moment. We had trained ourself, for this, walking along the Thiruvanmiyur beach-- 7 to 8 KM-- every day for a month before we started our journey. We thought we were tough enough. The first 5 KM was fun. We were chatting and enjoying the weather as well as the glimpses of the snow capped mountains. And rested here and there!

People were setting up their shops for the season which will start shortly. There were few tea shops already open. Soon we realised that climbing up the hill is not a joke and we were not prepared. We felt the strain of the climb; our heart beat became erratic at times and we had some breathing difficulty in that altitude. We took breaks too often. Sometimes our legs refused to carry us though the mind wanted reach the destination. We asked a local as to how the climb ahead was? He said steeper. That dampened our spirits for few moments.

But then we did see people (the porters) were carrying heavy and unwieldy stuff on their head and walking ahead of us. We thought of their endurance and they inspired us to complete the task. Somehow we reached Kedarnath. And it was worth the walk.

The Temple was closed. I knew that we had missed the sight of the Jyothirling. However, I peeped through a hole on the door and tried to communicate with the God. We visited the Samadhi of Adi Shankara adjacent to the temple. After establishing the four mutts in the four corners of the country (mind, he walked to all these places in times when transport and communication facilities did not exist), he died here; not before constructing the Kedarnath temple. The temple is an architecture marvel, situated in the periphery of the snow hugged mountains.

We three sat there under a shelter to protect us from the drizzling and had the last few pieces of the Parathas. We were surrounded by mountains and eternal silence. While walking down to Gowrikund we discussed about Adi Sankara and wondered how he could have travelled through these difficult terrains in the short span of his life. Though I belong to Kerala (and so did Adi Sankara), I realised how little I knew about Sankara. I must read more about his Advaita philosophy!

Uttarkashi(Photos Chinku)

We took a share taxi from Rishikesh to Uttarkashi (this part of the world is also known as Dev Bhumi- the land of Gods) which is approximately 150 KM away from Rishikesh. The name Uttarkashi reminded me of the devastating earthquake of 1991 that killed hundreds and caused extensive damage.

On the way to Uttarkashi, we could glimpse the snow capped mountains. It reminded me the days we spent at McLeod Ganj, the abode of Dalai Lama and his Tibetan followers; this is where I saw the snow hugged mountains for the first time in my life. We sat on the lawns of Chinar lodge sipping endless cups of tea, in the pleasantly cold weather; far away from the muggy summer of Chennai. I was engrossed in the beauty of the snow -- far beyond the pine trees, forgetting the world around. Well, there was hardly a “world” around us.

But this time, I could not enjoy the mountains as much as I enjoyed in McLeod Ganj. The hilly roads and the hairpin bends made me feel sick and withdrawn. On the way, in a small restaurant, we lost one of our cameras; thank God not with many photos. I must say that we left it there and forgot to pick it up while leaving. I am not sure if I must say that we lost it!

We reached Uttarkashi in the evening. This is the connecting place to Gangotri and to Gaumukh and that’s why we are here. The famous Shiva temple on the banks of Bhagirathi is the major attraction of the pilgrims. Uttarkashi is warm in the day and tolerably cold at night. Season had not begun. So we got a decent accommodation for a reasonable amount at Gangaram’s lodge. Gangaram is a typical guy whom you may meet in one of the tourist places. Unfortunately, Gangram was not very market oriented person. Though he has an excellent piece of land on the banks of Bhagirathi, he could not capitalise that. His rooms do not face the river; but bathrooms did. He dutifully informed us that we can see the river Bhagirathi from the bathroom. However, I was not very keen to spend an unusually time in the bathroom! Even if it was to enjoy the magnificent river! However you can do that while taking a bath, which is needless to say a pain since there was no running hot water.

But you can just get out of the room to watch Bhagirathi flowing proudly showing the blue pristine beauty amidst the rolling stones. We sat under the banyan tree, near the temple, for hours watching the evening river. There were few sanyasis who lived on the banks and in a temporary shed attached to a temple. They sat silently smoking. Well, they were in a different world. Mystic world!

In Uttarkashi, we visited the Viswanath Temple. The myth says that Parsuram, the great Muni built it. This is a small shrine except for the deity- a huge Shiv Linga. We could pray to the God from close quarters since there were hardly any visitors; thank God, the season was yet to begin.

We retired to bed early for we had to start early in the morning to Gangotri.

Gangotri

I was very excited about the Gangotri trip where I can meet Ganga in its purest form. We planned to walk up to Gaumukh. Reaching Gangotri was not at all difficult. Just 5 to 6 hours journey from Uttarkashi. The beauty is that we travel along the banks of the Bhagirathi. The Gangotri is famous for its temple; one of the chardams. We reached there around 11AM and had aloo paranthas (that was the only thing available) with pickle for break fast. There were only few shops as the 6 months season was yet to start.

Gaumukh (cow’s mouth or face – the largest glacier where Ganga originates) is 18 KM up the hill trek and we were advised against climbing up since the path way in some points were affected by landslides and the workers were still fixing it up. And you may need a whole day to reach up and return. We were not prepared for that. So we walked up a few kilometres from Gangotri on way to Gaumukh and returned.

We visited the temple which is dedicated to Goddess Ganga.

The weather was so unpredictable here. It was sunny when we reached; but within two hours cold wind began to blow accompanied by rain. We froze. So decided to get back to the base; Uttarkashi.

Rishikesh (Photos by Chinku)

We reached Rishikesh in the morning enjoying a share auto ride. Of course I watched the ‘balancing act’ of carrying so many persons in a three wheeler with some nervousness. Rishikesh is famous for water sports like river rafting; but we decided against that since we had only few days in hands and we were keen on reaching the Himalayas, our real destination. Like everyone, else we walked towards the Ram Jhoola and across the hanging bridge. I must confess that I am scared of hanging bridges and seeing a massive crowd on the bridge made me dizzy. So I did not enjoy the view of the Ganga from the bridge; just hurriedly crossed. Temples across the river were too crowded to seek blessings; so walked ahead to Laxman Jhoola, the next hanging bridge. It was a pleasant walk in the not -so -hot morning sun and we had a bath in Ganga at Rishikesh also. I noticed that the Ganga was quiet and gentle here. Chinku sitting on a rock, threw a small stone into the river ( I think all boys do that to watch the ripples), but a local guy protested; “she is our mother, don’t do it”. I felt the local sentiments towards the holy river -- she is not just another water body. A quick lunch (early noon) at a small little place near the bus stand and we were ready for our next destination -- Uttarkashi.

Well, I am back from a long hiatus. I was into a spiritual journey to the Himalayas – actually on the Gangetic trail part I, starting from Haridwar, Rishikesh to Uttarkashi, Gangotri, Kedarnath, Badrinath and the grand finale at the valley of flowers. Am back now.

Haridwar
Photos by Chinku

Our spiritual passage began from the holy city, Haridwar. We took the Jan Sadabdi express from Delhi in the afternoon and reached Haridwar late in the evening. Har ki Pauri is the main area and THE road unmistakably led to the Ganga; the holy river. We were there just after the Khumb Mela and got to see the remnants of the Mela, the largest religious congregation on earth.

A journey to Haridwar was one of my dreams and all of a sudden it became reality. Here the Ganga flows fervently; before my eyes, carrying the burden of civilizations. I was glued to it; in the mystic twilight; and plunged my feet into the cold water. The water looked muddy; but how does it matter. People come here to wash away their sins, get blessed and search for solutions. And me? I don’t know!


The bathing Ghats are secured with chains that are fixed to the metal pipes so that the devotees take a dip safely in the gushing water. Spirituality with safety! I could see people from different parts of the country, different age groups, speaking different languages; but all of them were chanting mantras eulogizing Ganga, the mother. She looked pleased too watching her devotees offering flowers to her in leaves and also the diyas lighted up. All these were to please her!

And there were the men, wearing a certain uniform so that they looked like officials, approaching the pilgrims, invoking their religious sentiments asking for money and offering special blessings in the event they paid!. They pitched it at Rs.101 and went on reducing the price to as less as Rs 10. The rates go down as the Maha arti is nearer in time. Well, I did not give any money. I think the mighty Ganga did not need money from me. Some people threw money into the Ganga and there were children of lesser Gods collecting that money wading through the knee deep water, daring the cold and the current.

Haridwar is famous for the ritual called Maha arti and we too witnessed to it. Maha arti takes place in the evening, day after day, with the priests holding as many lamps as they are near before the temple devoted to Gangama. People throng the banks to watch the arti; the whole thing lasts a few minutes. Well, it was a visual treat, I must admit. The air filled with chanting of mantras by the thousands of devotees gathered there from across the country, the colourful sky and the fragrance of flowers they offer; all these together created a surrealistic ambience. Surprisingly, I too became part of those unknown faces and sat there in a trance. Humility!!

And as we walk back down the same road, lined up with shops on both sides selling food, clothes and all such material needs of the people and also those selling video recordings of the maha arti or devotional songs. The cycle Rickshaws adventurously negotiated through the crowds while the motor bikes blasted rushed through blowing loud horns irritating those walking. Added to the chaos, the (holy?) cows too were easily finding their way through the crowd. People’s lives and livelihood in Haridwar are very much dependent on the pilgrims who throng here day after day and throughout the year.

Rishikesh, our next destination is just 25 KM away!


How to reach there: All trains bound to Dehradun pass through Haridwar. It is 250 KM from Delhi.These trains go to Rishikesh too. The Indian Railways operate a passenger train between Haridwar and Rishikesh too. A short distance of just 25 KMs.

Maqbool Fida Hussain (MF Hussain)’s New Home

Well, what I am writing is not politically correct. It does not matter when one confronts with truth. Let me confess that I am not an ardent lover of paintings. Rather my knowledge on paintings is miserably restricted. MF Hussain is supposed to be a celebrity painter: so I read in the news papers. Somehow his name, as far as I can remember, is linked with some controversy or another; whether he was painting Maduri Dixit with passion or his painting of Goddess Saraswati nude

Mr. Hussain has been living outside India since the year 2006 after a series of disruption and threat that he faced while exhibiting his paintings in India. And dozens of lawsuits filed against him across the country for his supposedly ``blasphemical’’ paintings. He ended his run finally by accepting the honorary citizenship that was ‘generously’ offered by the Qatar government. And his film maker son said to the media that “having a sense of belonging was important at this stage of his life (Hussain is 95 now) and that his father missed home in India terribly”. A genuine feeling!

Newspapers reported that in Qatar he was warmly received by a large welcoming committee. Well and good! If I ask a question to Hussain as to whether he will be painting the Prophet with the same fervour with which he painted Goddess Saraswathi in his new found home, I will be treated like an extreme right winger. I do not want to ask that question; I am not a right winger. Instead, I will ask a secular question. Will the Qatar government receive Salman Rushdie or Taslima Nasreen with the same warmth as they received Hussain. They are also well known in their field and also on run since they had written the controversial books Satanic Verses (1988) and Lajja (Shame 1993) respectively. Well, I have already asked the politically incorrect question. Its ok, I don’t have to be pretentious; I am not an intellectual!

Who is afraid of Women Reservation Bill??







Democracy is not merely a structural or a functional system. This, indeed, was not what the founding fathers of our Republic intended it to be. Democracy, in fact, is as much an ethical concept. As peoples’ participation is the backbone of democracy, in a modern democratic set up, the decision making process virtually begins and ends with the elected representatives. There will not be a disagreement that “people” include women also. However barring a couple of countries in the world, the women, who constitute about one-half of any nation’s population, are under represented in the various democratic institutions.

In India, women’s role in the political space is reduced to that of voters as well as activists within the parameters defined and earmarked for them by the political parties, which are once again, dominated by men. It is a fact that the political parties, irrespective of their ideology, have failed to provide adequate representation to women while selecting the candidates for elections. Resolutely, the parties keep women in the fringes of politics. Naturally, women’s representation in Parliament, the State Legislatures and in the local bodies suffered a set back due to this negative attitude.

The Report of the Committee on the Status of Women in India in 1974 rightly pointed out the attitude of the political parties towards women’s representation in the democratic bodies. It said: “The parties reflect the established values of a male dominated society, which would be difficult to alter without certain structural changes in the socio –political set up. The parties would continue to pay lip services to the cause of women’s progress and the policy of tokenism by having a few women in legislative and executive wings of the government whose minority and dependent status offer serious obstacles in the path of their acting as spokespersons for women’s rights and opportunities”.

The pandemonium that accompanied when the Constitution Amendment Bill to ensure quota for women in Parlaiment and State Legislatures was taken up for voting in the Rajya Sabha (on March 8!) only confirms the observation of the Committee made over three and a half decades ago. The MPs who opposed the Bill went to the extent of snatching it away from the Chairperson of the House and tearing it to shreds literaly.It was not at all a democratic or matured behaviour the MPs put up. However, this was reflective of the chauvinism that is rooted in the existing socio- political culture that discriminates against women in the affairs of the state.

Ram Monohar Lohia, one of the founders of the socialist movement in India, attacked the segregation of women in politics and equated it with the segregation on the basis of caste identities. To him “the two segregations of caste and women are primarily responsible for the decline of the spirit. These two segregations have enough power to kill all capacity for adventure and joy. All those who think by the removal of poverty through a modern economy, the segregation will automatically disappear make a big mistake. All on war on poverty is a sham unless it is at the same time a conscious and sustained war on these two segregations”.(Ram Manohar Lohia, The Caste System, 1953). It is indeed an irony that the three most vocal opponents of the Bill – Mulayam Singh Yadav, Lalu Prasad Yadav and Sharad Yadav – claim to be the legatees of Dr. Lohia!

The History of the Bill

The 1974 Report on the Status of Women in India, submitted to the Parliament, recommended that “a system of reservation of a proportion of seats in these bodies (legislatures and parliament) would provide an impetus to both the women as well as the political parties to give a fairer deal to nearly half the population in the various units of the government. If women enter these bodies in larger number, the present inhibitions that result from their minority position in these institutions may disappear faster and give them grater freedom to articulate themselves” (p.302 (Towards Equality - The Report Of The Committee On The Status of Women In India, Ministry of Education and Social Welfare by a Committee, Department of Social Welfare, 1974). It recommended further that the political parties should adopt a definite policy regarding the percentage of the women candidates to be sponsored by them for elections to Parliament and State Assemblies.

However, these recommendations had to wait for long -- almost two decades -- to be acted upon. It did move forward. The 73rd and 74th Constitution Amendments in 1993 were steps taken to get closer to the dream. For the first time in the history of local bodies in independent India, one-third of seats were reserved for women. And this remains a Constitutional imperative. This, indeed, was a radical step that initiated the demand in the political discourse to have such reservations to Parliamentary seats as well as the State Legislature. It is possible to trace the immediate provocation to the present Bill to the 73rd and 74th Constitution Amendments.

In this context, it will be interesting to see the women’s representation to Lok Sabha from 1952 to 2010. As the table shows that the women’s representation has never crossed the 10% mark except in the 15th Lok Sabha (present one). In 1971 and 1977, the 6th and the 7th Lok Sabha, women’s representation was abysmally low. It is the same story with the State legislatures too. If this is the case with the representation of women after half a century since independence, then it may take another century for women to touch the one third mark, without reservation. This is not to assert that reservation will empower the women. But this, indeed, will provide the political space for women and also the much needed exposure to the political discourse.

The contentious Women’s Reservation Bill was introduced for the first time in Parliament in September 1996, followed by the euphoria of the successful legislation of 73rd and 74th constitution amendment. The Bill that was known as the Constitution (Eighty First Amendment) was introduced when H D Deve Gowda was Prime Minister. Well. It was vehemently (and even physically) opposed, even at the introductory stage. Incidentally, the Gowda's government fell as the Congress withdrew its support. The Bill, however, remained alive and when I.K. Gujral was the Prime Minister, it was referred to the Joint Parliamentary Committee which was headed by Geeta Mukherjee, veteran parliamentarian and Communist Party of India (CPI) member. That was in 1997.

As chairperson of the Joint Select Committee of Parliament on the Women's Reservation Bill, she worked hard to accommodate the different view points and take the measure to its logical end. However she could not do so until her death on March 4, 2000. And with the fall of the Gujral Government and the subsequent dissolution of the Lok Sabha (in November 1997) the Constitution Amendment Bill too lapsed.

The bill was introduced again by the NDA government in June1998 as the 84th Constitution Amendment Bill. Unfortunately, the Vajpayee government also fell prematurely and the Bill lapsed. It was introduced again in November 1999 after the NDA returned to power. However, as expected, the political parties failed to reach a consensus and the Bill was put on hold. Sarad Yadav, a Janata Dal MP at that time and thus part of the ruling combine then spoke aloud that such “reservation will do nothing but helping few more women with bobbed hair (Bal kattis) to enter Parliament’’. This futile exercise was continued in 2002 and 2003. Despite the offer of support from the Congress and the Left no progress was made in this front.

The UPA government introduced the Bill once again in May 2008. And it was introduced in the Rajya Sabha; the difference is that the Bill will remain alive in that case even if the Government fell and the Lok Sabha dissolved! All that is only academic discussion now. This time it could not be mowed down. It went through the committee stage and the Bill was moved in the Upper House amidst protest from the Samajwadi Party, JD [U] and RJD MPs. Finally the Women reservation Bill reserving 33 per cent of seats in the Lok Sabha and the State Legislative Assemblies to women was passed by the Rajya Sabha on Tuesday 9th March 2010.

Seven MPs (four from the Samajwadi Party (SP) and one each from the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD), the Lok Janshakti Party and the Janata Dal-United) were suspended for their unruly behaviour in the Upper House. The real absurdity was that these MPs who were physically lifted from the House, sat on a protest in front of the statue of Mahatma Gandhi. The absurdity was given Gandhi’s opinion on the entry of women into the political space. The Bapu had held that as long as women of India do not take part in public life there can be no salvation for the country. ``I would have no use for that kind of swaraj to which such women have not made their full contribution”.

The Bill is expected to be introduced in the Lok Sabha in May 2010; however, in today’s political climate, one is not sure of that. The three Yadavs- Lalu, Sharad and Mulayam- and their party’s rank and file oppose it vehemently for flimsy reasons. Their contention is that since there is no provision in the Bill for reservation for women from the Muslim community and the Other Backward Classes, it will lead to the marginalisation of the women from these sections and provide an unfair advantage for the upper class women. The argument does not, however, explain the question as if that is so how do the men belong to backward castes and the Muslim community get elected to the parliament without reservation? Another question is as to what prevented these leaders of large and important political parties, and that too claiming to the legacy of Ram Manohar Lohia, from adopting pro-active measures all these years to open up educational and economic opportunities to the women from among the Backward communities?

It is nothing but politics of desperation. Men in the parliament are scared of loosing their seats. Even the one third reservations, it is for sure that some of them inadvertently will lose their fiefdoms. They were ``manning’’ the corridors of power for such a long years and do not want to loose that position. Hence the opposition!

Now those opposing the Bill are asking for a wider consultation to reach a consensus. The same excuses stalled the Bill in the earlier occasions for almost one and half decades since it was introduced for the first time in 1996.

The point is if democracy is seen as an ethical concern, keeping women out on the fringes of the political institutions is an un-ethical measure. The women, after all, constitute half the population. Let me conclude this article with a quote: No matter how noble the man is: or how good his intentions are, he cannot understand a woman’s needs or adequately represent her”.(Marie Mitchell Olesen Urbanski).

Photo- Chinku
Thank you Heike for bringing us the tulip plant, all the way from Feldafing, Germany to Chennai! It was little annoyed with the Chennai weather. However, this did not stop her from blooming beautifully!!

Shame on you Jayaram!

The news is that Actor Jayaram made a nasty comment on his domestic help; specifically on her looks. He reportedly told a Malayalam TV channel, recently, that "my maid, a Tamil woman, is like a dark fat buffalo. So how can I look at her", when asked whether he had taken a second look at his housemaid in real life. The interview was in the context of his recent film. Of course, his comments put him up in a soup and there were protests against Jayaram’s comments in Tamil Nadu and a Tamil outfit went to the extent of ransacking the garden in his house in Chennai.

There are two or three points that I would like to make in this note. Firstly, I strongly feel that we must learn to treat any attack on the modesty of a woman (what Jayaram did in this case) as an assault on women irrespective of the colour, caste, religion, place, groups and so on. How does it matter whether the victim is a Tamil woman or a woman from Rajastan or Bihar? Hence the outcry “Tamil Woman” is unwarranted. It is yet another matter that the majority of Tamil Films too depict/treat women as a commodity rather than human beings.

Now about Tamil women! As a person who has been working with women for many years, I have had ample opportunities to travel all over India to work with the less privileged working women. The Tamil women, especially those from the lowest economic strata, had always surprised me with their endurance and fortitude. They are very enterprising and hard working and they take up any job without any inhibition.

In Tamil Nadu, there are many women headed families or families in which women are the main bread winner. They work in the agricultural field, run small eateries on the road side, work as flower vendors in front of temples, theatres, beaches and any other crowd pulling places and also a large number of them work as domestic workers; sometimes they manage to work in more than 6 houses and the with the meagre income they contribute largely to their households. So describing a human being, who also happens to be cleaning up your mess at home, by her colour and figure is a criminal and inhuman act. Hence Jayaram’s words, no doubt, are condemnable.

At a different level, I am not surprised by his comment, in the sense that, there is no dearth of Jayarams in Kerala, the most literate state in India. If you sit through any of the “comedy’’ shows in the Malayalam channels, the major event would be caricaturing politicians and second to that is vulgarising women through suggestive comments. In most of the cases women are being treated like commodities and there is no sense of shame in visualising them in such a way in the TV serials.

In real life too, women are intimidated in the public places and public transport. I still remember that in my college days; in the private buses, there is a “creature” called ‘kili’, who is supposed to be the cleaner of the bus. He would invariably stand on the steps of the bus and that used to be very inconvenient for the women passengers to get down from the bus. Sometimes, these kilis would rub their shoulder against the girls. As student activists, we used to protest against this and would insist that this man should get down while we got off the bus. And invariably, these men used to make rude comments insulting our looks. Their comment would be ``what you think? You are a world beauty or what that I am dying to touch”. They would drop some famous actress’ name too.

One of my CPM friends confessed secretly to me that he is scared to send his grown up daughter alone for tuitions in the evenings. He says, chechi, times have changed. “Yes the times have changed and so have the people. Now where is the movement comrade?” I wanted to ask. Let me leave it at that and may be for another occasion.

So Jayaram is in no way different from these larger groups. It is yet another matter that Mr. Jayaram’s pleasantly-plum-relatively-on-the-darker-side-wife (who was also an actress), was considered to be one of the fattest in that era. One may still be interested to know whether Mr.Jayarm addresses her as a brown fat buffalo and refuses to look at her at home???

Film -Ayirathil oruvan (THE ONE in a thousand)

Director Selva Raghavan

I had the misfortune of watching the well advertised, much reviewed Tamil film “Ayirathil oruvan (THE ONE in a thousand)”. “Brave attempt at trying to come out with something new in the placid world of Tamil cinema”, “stunning visuals and grandeur”, “.breaking away from the shackles of the stereotypes”, the reviewers raved. Apart from the reviews, all the main actors too had done their bit in the print media by way of interviews recalling their spine-chilling and bizarre experiences while the film was in the making. Most importantly, the film took three long years to complete due the “density of the plot and the depth of its treatment” is what we were all told. And we were also informed that the director had to suffer a divorce, thanks to the film.

The film revolves around a bit of the Chola –Pandya rivalry; where the Cholas were pushed out of their kingdom to an Island somewhere near Vietnam. The heroine Anita Pandyan (Reema Sen) is in search of the idol of their deity, taken away by the Cholas, while on run. The second heroine Andrea is in search of her father, an archaeologist, who was lost somewhere in the Island while tracing the Cholas.

You have two heroines and unfortunately one hero who is condemned to carry the burden of the two heroines, literally, on his back. Well. He drops these compulsive ‘climbers’ then and there. It is yet another story that the second heroine cried foul before the press as her role thinned down after the first half.

We have this sexy and revolver wielding (she even manages to use them with ease, shooting down adversaries with both hands simultaneously) heroine, who is an archaeologist by training. She is supposedly strict; and hence filthy words flow with ease from her mouth while dealing with subordinates.

Karthi, the hero reminds us of his first movie paruthiveeran; his performance was acclaimed, for the right reason, in that film. He has the same ruffian role in this film too. However, in this movie, he cries too often. As it happens, finally he emerges as a real hero after a long absence in the second half.

The first half was boring enough and the graphics- supposed to be scary- were hilarious. Then we hope against the hope that the second half will give you something worth the money and the effort. That is where you go wrong. Despite the weak storyline you somewhat understand the story in the first half. But the second half leaves you blank. Thank God, the disclaimer said that the story is not exactly from any historical incidents: otherwise one would have searched the volumes of south Indian history to understand the plot.

But then you have this seductive number by Reema Sen, the first heroine and those who were interested in watching her cleavage and her flat belly the money spent was worth. Of course, there is no dearth of sexy numbers by these heroines.

And Partheepan, the Chola king looked like a king (raja part) in the village drama and he acted “too sincerely” for the money paid to him. His dialogues were too long and at the end of the sentence you almost forget where he started from. And he dances (Thandavam) too: Don’t ask why? I don’t have an answer.

There is a lot of violence and lots of men (supposed to be tribal) as if they were in a fancy dress competition. Most of them get killed. Of course, some of them at the hands of the heroine, brandishing two revolvers, and others by the army officers accompanying the trained archaeologist.

The film reminds one, in some frames of a series of English movies including Macanas Gold. But the director vehemently denies that the movie has anything to do with any of the Hollywood productions and let me trust him. What is wrong if two persons in two different parts of the world and living in two different times think alike?

The end of the film made me weep. I wept thinking about the money wasted along with a Saturday afternoon.