Friday, July 22, 2016

A few good men


Just when I thought things were looking up here was another kicker. On Thursday last week I had my teeth cleaned. Well I must have stirred up some critters hiding in the crevices of my teeth. Over the weekend, I felt a mild sensation around my right cheek bone and chose to ignore it. On Monday, I woke up to find my hand pressed into that cheek, as though to ward off sensations. There was hint of a little more pain this time, but I valiantly forebore, mentally willing it away. Little did I know this infection was going nowhere. It seems I had taunted it because it began to rear its ugly head sometime in the evening and then pound me with its fist through the night. I still resisted taking pain medication and then capitulated at 1 am when I could take it no more. I woke up with what felt like a nasty slap on the right side of my face and no I was not dreaming. It was only 4 am, and the meds had already worn off. I knew then that I needed another kind of offensive. I endured the pain through my yoga practice, refusing to medicate anymore till I got to the root of the problem – pun intended. At 9 am I was at my dentist’s. He put me in his Chair ahead of scheduled appointments and after one look at the x ray said – “looks bad, you need a root canal, I will give you the referral to the endodontist.” “Can it be now?” I countered. It was arranged for 11:30 am. I knew Dr. Wolfson from a previous root canal encounter and he was at his office ready, willing and able to see me. Big relief. The world had conjured to help me, I thought. I did not realize it then, but this was not the half of it.

I returned to the office, gathered all my work stuff, met with my folks to apprise them of these developments and set off, actually looking forward to the procedure and relief from the pain. But alas, things were not going to be so easy. As I drove along the highway, fire engines began to whiz past me. I knew then there was some major accident on my route and chose an alternate route preparing to exit the highway. I later found out a salad truck had rolled over and doused the highway with dressing – the city could have had a salad party on 401W, but I digress. I took 401E and as I was laterally crossing three lanes to get to my exit, a driver to my left began to wave wildly and flag me down. He eased his car in front of me and on to a shoulder of the exit ramp, bidding me to stop behind him. I was perplexed. He was dangerously parked. But unperturbed he came over and said, “you have a flat, just follow me” and walked me to the rear of the car shielding me from onslaught of exiting cars. The rear tire on the right side was completely flat. We got into our cars and I followed him into a parking lot just off the exit, when he got out a can of puncture sealant from his trunk and said “do you have one of these? If not always carry one. I am going to see if I can fix the leak with this.” and proceeded to empty the can into my tire. It was all so surreal. Alas it did not work. He then found out why. He pointed to a gash on the side of the tire and said “Unfortunately, there is a tear on the side from a nail, so you will need to change the tire.” Still dazed, I murmured “You are godsent” and handed him the money for the can of sealant, which he refused but I insisted he take. I took courage and moved my car to a parking lot where I would not be ticketed, thinking I had half an hour to find a cab to get me to the doctor. I was single-minded in my need to reach the doctor's. There were no cabs in sight. Then I spotted one but he did not have his light on, since he was on his way to pick up a fare. He must have sensed my distress. He stopped, cancelled his fare and said “don’t worry I know the address, I will get you there”, as I tried to give him directions through my pain. He dropped me off at 11:30 am. The doctor who was waiting for me, set me in his chair and said he would do what he could to make the pain go away. My dear husband, not to be outdone by the other good men in this story, offered to pick me up after the procedure. Later that evening he also met the CAA guy in that lot so the latter could change my tire. He left the car there overnight and the next morning dropped me off at the lot so I could pick up my car from there. Procedure and strong antibiotics later, I was fine in two days. I still have a swelling but no pain. I can live with this for now, knowing all's well with the world which has several good men!


Sunday, July 17, 2016

If I were to run for Republic Party nominee


So here is me imagining what I would need to run for the nomination of the GOP - if I were American that is ...ok just indulge me..

I am thinking of running for Republican Party nominee. A tad late I know. But -that's not why people tell me I will fail. They say no sharp elbows, wisecracking sarcasm or flair for insults live or on Twitter. No hubris. No creative ideas to deal with terrorism and immigration wth entry bans and border walls! No courage to be politically incorrect and call vast sections of the population inferior imbeciles whose moods are ordered by their monthly cycles or defective genes. No grand ideas to stimulate the economy by simply cancelling trade agreements and becoming protectionist.
Reflecting I must say I simply don't qualify now because I am not yet ready! But why? Have I ever had the courage to shout curse words into large crowds or to tweet out pictures of my opponents partner calling them names ? Or to verbally assault people calling them "stupid, crooked, corrupt, loser, weak, pathetic, total disaster, low energy, ineffective, miserable, incompetent and hypocrite" at least a few hundred times. No not really. Then how would anyone sustain interest enough to stay on my case and stay awake?!

So what's my cache? That I love my nation and care enough to want to solve its problems and that I have some competence managing money, negotiating deals and applying the law? Well I have it all wrong, I realize. These are simply not the qualities that will get the attention of the masses.

So what do I need? I need a story and even more importantly, sound bytes. Not necessarily the kind that I flashed on twitter or that I had bulimia and alcohol problems, but that I filed for bankruptcy a few times, floated a University that went the way of the dodo bird, that I made my fortunes by taking jobs abroad and that I stand by the mantra "everything is negotiable"". That I thrive on false promises and narcissism and have an entire army to help me craft my messages and stroke my ego a million ways." Of course I would not have to mean anything I say. I would just have to say anything that will get me to win. Who cares about right or wrong, being consistent or keeping one's word?! No one. Thankfully talk is cheap and does not have to actually mean anything. Even better, we have a population which is willfully blind to the "how" of bogus promises because they are mentally tired making ends meet and staying afloat. "Just tell me what I want to hear" they say, "and I will vote for you. Then keep saying or doing something scandalous and I will give you my undivided attention as I would a car wreck happening before my eyes. Do not try to reason with me or give me logical explanations of what you will do for me. It will do you no good - for I don't have the bandwidth for it"!

Given this, I will need preparation time leading up to my nomination - a proper make-over. I would need to cultivate a spontaneous propensity for putting my foot in my mouth, shooting from my hip, overruling democratically made decisions and using stock phrases like "my opponent is an unbelievable disaster" and "I can make America great again". I have to work on sanitizing myself of fuzzy words like "collaborative", "inclusive", "consultative" or "anti-oppressive". I had better start now. Refashioning my image, rehearsing the choice jargon, sharpening my elbows and getting in and out of embarrassing and disastrous situations does not come easy to those who lack the natural talent for it. I need the time before the next elections to rehabilitate myself and to build the right kind of brand equity. Oh yes, I will hire Donald Trump as my coach!

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Violence against women in India


The recent gruesome murder of Swathi Santhanagopalakrishnan, a 24 year old engineer, in Chennai, India, at the hands of her stalker raises so many issues about the increased risk of violence against women especially with the rise of social media and the utter lack of political will to protect women.

That fateful morning of June 24, 2016, at 6:30 a.m., Swathi was waiting for the train that would take her to work. Within minutes, she was hacked to death with a sickle in plain view of the public in a bustling train station of a large metropolis where thousands of women risk taking public transit to work, at all hours of the day and night. Her assailant, who had stalked her on social media before confronting her in person with his proposal, may have been enraged over Swathi’s refusal to reciprocate his feelings but had his wits completely about him regarding the consequences of his actions. He cannot plead “not guilty by reason of insanity” because he was fully competent while committing the cold blooded act in a calculated and well- rehearsed manner, following months of planning. However, Swathi’s murder is by no means just an isolated incident. It is just one that caught the public’s attention due to its gruesome nature and visibility.

How can we say we have progressed as a nation, if our women cannot take public transit to work safely? How is it possible that a woman was hacked to death by her stalker in broad daylight on a busy railway platform and no one could do anything to stop it from happening? Why do our women not trust police enough to escalate these matters at the first sign of danger, rather than trying to deal with them and live in constant fear? Why do women fear the social reproach that could result from reporting, when they have done nothing wrong?

Two days after this incident, a young woman in the same city took her own life because a man had photo-shopped and posted her face attached to a nude figure all over social media, after she had rebuffed his advances. When her parents had approached the police to plead with them to have the images expunged the latter had refused. The young woman killed herself. A maid in Bihar was raped in a public square when she had attacked her employer’s son with a razor blade following his attempt to rape her a second time! The police made no attempt to protect her here either because the perpetrator's father was a feudal landlord, very well connected and influential.

Every day young woman are raped and several killed and their bodies maimed, decapitated and rendered unidentifiable. The perpetrators get away in most instances. It was only delayed public furore over the death of Swathi and intense media scrutiny that resulted in her murderer being apprehended.

So why is it a woman’s responsibility and fault that she is violently abused and killed? Why do we not ask instead, what is so wrong with our society that our women have to die like this? What’s with our social systems that perpetuate violent patriarchy and fail to protect against it? What is it in our psyche that we tolerate all forms of oppression, not just gendered and only express outrage when the matter is in our face, depriving us of a good night’s sleep?

Yes empowerment does come from financial independence. But we still objectify women, consider biology as their destiny and treat them as goddesses or whores depending on our arbitrary moral code relating to how they should dress, act and behave. Financial independence gives her little leverage against deeply entrenched views on her place in society, mostly as a chattel for someone's use, who is incapable of making sound decisions. You only have to read the various paternalistic blog posts that give advice to young women: Here's a sampling

"- Girls married or unmarried should be selective in accepting friends’ request on Facebook and other social networking sites.

- Avoid posting photos in different attires, if interested, share such photos only in your relatives group.

- Don’t entertain boys whom they found suspicious on the first acquaintance.

- Don’t be vigorous in posting your views in groups which often entertain unwanted chats in any social media.

- Don’t trust anyone because he is professionally as qualified as you are.

- Avoid people who have inherent hatred towards working and high earning people.

- It is highly advisable to limit their friend circle with close friends, colleagues, and relatives.

- And the most important thing is, limit the use of social media and don’t get addicted.

- Please don’t decide on your life partner without your parents' consent or consensus

- Don’t fall in love suddenly"

The issues are by no means simple, clouded as they are by class, caste, race and various other factors that criss cross identities. Thus, for example, a lower caste man will be treated far worse than one from a higher caste and class for a similarly gruesome crime. Or abuse of a woman who is from a higher caste or class will invoke greater outrage than one who is not. In any event, there is an urgency to create societies where women feel safe enough to reach out for timely help without shame or fear of retribution.