Blue bottles

Wear a white ribbon to protest violence against women. Work in an NGO that helps to prevent violence against women. Wear khadi. It apparently helps too.

Today, I watched a private screening of “Mathrubhoomi- a Nation without Women”. Again. I admit the first time I watched it I was deeply shaken. But this time when I did, it simply didn’t move me. I watched it with impassivity that would astound my movie-going friends. This movie was a part of the violence against women campaign. Which ever of you has watched the movie, will know it’s about repercussions of female infanticide and its manifestations over human and women’s rights. (I speak of Women’s and Human rights separately for reasons I shall go into later.) At least that’s what you think when you watch the movie for the first time. But then it turns out to be just a barbaric spool of celluloid that’s waiting to disgust you into vicarious shame and shock.

Violence against women. A campaign against the Abuse of Women. The movie was succeeded by a discussion by a panel of experts. a gyne and obstetrics doc, A lady from the AIDWA and of course the audience that was left. A round of questions and answers prevailed. Which turned out to be a contest in proving the prowess of the several English speaking audience members there. A word play of mottled questions which never really penetrated the depth of the matter. Bravo for the Anglais speaking Indian youngsters. Really, a fine job. But did anyone there really give a rat’s *** about what we were really there for? Did anyone there discuss the movie critically? (I don’t mean a technical discussion of It.). We all wore white ribbons. We all looked pained when several men abused the woman on screen. But did anyone of us rise to the occasion? Do something about anything that even remotely resembled the reason as to why we were there?

No. All we did was to discuss a bunch of cliches and pretend that we went into the depth of the issue. Pathetic. The only class act was Miz. Beena Inamdar, The Principal, Symbi. She actually made sense. That was probably because she followed every single thing that she said. Like refusing to attend a social function that blatantly encouraged the male child. And like refusing to marry like a princess and saying no to dowry. Like questioning every single alumnus of hers whether they had followed the path of Dharma.

You know a few laws. You wear khadi. And speak beautifully. It does NOT make you an activist. DO something. Don’t excuse your inactivity by saying that social change takes really long so anything you do won’t really matter. It matters. To those who look upon you for inspiration. Don’t exude forced optimism. It’s worse than giving up entirely.

Does or does it not make a difference when we hold a rally and have a peace march against violence? Will it amount to anything if I hold a candle and walk? Will it help if I sign a petition for something I know is never going to be approved? That’s all I want to know.

When I get these answers, I will believe that something that I do will matter. And that I’m not Quixote.

AAAAAGGHH! 10 months since this blog came to life. I remember the time Appu and I would check upon it twice a day to when months later, when the activities were nada.

I’d like to thank a few in getting here.

Appa, merci beaucoup.

Appu Singh, lotsa love, baby.

Su M, dunno why a ’side-project’ means so much to me. I love the fact that I’m still here. To gasoline rainbows and me ves y sufres. Toot toot.

To all the irregulars and the slightly regular, thank you and have a nice day.

I’m amazed i didn’t give up somewhere halfway. Freaky man. To some person, I don’t remember who, who inspired me with their madness and spirit to go on. Another two months to go. Till then…