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Monday, May 12, 2014
Deepti Menon - Author, Blogger and Journalist
Sunday, May 11, 2014
My Two Mothers!
I
believe that I am truly lucky! Why, you might ask! Because I have two mothers,
which is one more than most people have, and this is when I need to knock on
wood to keep the evil eye away! They hover over me like guardian angels, both
diametrically different in their vocations, but amazingly similar in their
principles and outlook towards life.
The
mother I was born to fits into the mould of the multi tasker, whirling around
like a dervish to fit in all that she does into the 24 hour day that seems to
fall short always. Having lost her husband at a very young age, she was left
alone to bring three daughters up, not the easiest of tasks even if you have an
army of relatives and friends to lend a helping hand. Single-handedly she stood
against the world, fighting demons, invisible and all too visible, as she not
only brought up her girls, but started an enlightened school where she put in
all those nuggets of wisdom that she had gathered and garnered from the schools
she had taught in. And yet, she never once let her girls know about the
hardships and the tribulations, preferring to reveal the beauty of life,
blowing optimism into their ears even as they grew into confident young women.
She was both father and mother, and made sure they lacked for nothing, which is
perhaps, why they, in turn, have turned into her strongest champions!
When
I was to be married, being the eldest, she had just been widowed and the
parting was painful, like the severing of a limb. As I took the customary three
circles around the fire with my bridegroom, her face mirrored mixed
emotions.... joy that her beloved daughter was getting married to a wonderful
man, uncertainty about how she herself would cope, and of course, sorrow that
her fledgling had grown up enough to leave. Tears gushed down her face as she
wished her husband had been around to witness the wedding of his eldest. And
when it was all over, and I was getting into the car to leave for my new home,
a feeling of panic came over me as I knew I was leaving my mother behind, and
that life would change in some way! The tears in my mother’s eyes only
strengthened this feeling!
But
when I walked into my brand new home, in a bright silk sari and matching
jewellery, where a whole host of relatives waited to welcome me in with the
traditional lamp, it was my mother in law [whom I always refer to as my mother
in love] who caught hold of my hand, and said in her matter of fact way, but
with much love within her heart, “Take off that silk sari and get into something
comfortable and sleep for a while!” It was amazing how warm those words made me
feel, as she realized how utterly exhausted I was and two hours later, I was
back to my normal self, rested in my new home with my brand new family!
And
so it has been over the years! There has never been a moment when my second Mum
has made me feel any different from her own daughter. She told me much later
how she had decided that when her son got married, she would gain a daughter,
not lose a son. She and I have long chats, discuss everything from politics
[which both of us don’t care much for!] to recipes [which we both enjoy
experimenting with!] She takes my side on most matters, a trait which her son
looks upon with indulgence even if he does protest once in a while. My daughter
smiles when she sees her grandma take her mother’s side, remarking wryly, “And
so the defence rests, as usual!”
The
other day, both my mothers were together for a short while and in the midst of
all the fun they had [which included watching inane serials and eating
chocolates surreptitiously], I heard my mother whisper, “Thank you so much for
being such a wonderful mother to my daughter! I think she is very lucky to have
you!”
Which
takes me back to where I began! I believe I am truly lucky! How else could I
put it, when on the one hand, I have a mother who listens to my grouses and
tries to solve them in her own inimitable way, who calls herself the luckiest
mum because I have written a book which she proudly presents to friends, family
and every stranger who comes her way? What else can I say about a Mom who
treasures every little scrap of poetry I have written over the years, and
forgotten about, and who puts it together and publishes it so that she can give
it to me on my birthday? A Mom who has a special place in her heart for me, her
eldest born, because we have shared dark days and bright ones together?
And
then again, what about my other Mum who makes sure I eat breakfast by churning
out the tastiest of chutneys, even if she has to do it before I wake up, or who
tells me to inform her of where I am if I am late [for otherwise she gets
frantic!], or who forces me to go to the gym because she knows it is good for
me? Who, when she is away, tells me that she misses hearing my voice, as much as
I miss having her loved presence around?
Both
my Mums hate seeing a cloud on my face, and both go out of their way to make
sure that the sun is always shining and all’s right with the world, as far as I
am concerned. Maybe, just maybe, this is where the beautiful saying came from,
“God could not be everywhere so he created mothers!”
Mother's Day Post
11/5/2014
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Boys will be Boys!
Image from Pixabay
Boys will be boys, of course! This adage has taken on a whole new meaning today, as the chief of a major political party connected it with rape and capital punishment, averring that it was unfair to punish boys for their ‘mistakes’. This was after a Mumbai court had given the death penalty to three ‘repeat’ offenders in the Shakti Mills gang rape case. “Boys make mistakes… if we come to power there will be changes in the tough anti-rape law!” After stirring up a hornet’s nest, the leader went on to say that boys and girls fall in love, and then part due to differences. “When their friendship ends, the girl complains she has been raped.”
The Delhi gang rape was also followed by callous statements by supposedly prominent people, who shot their mouths off, proving that common sense is, indeed, quite uncommon. And that ‘sensitivity’ is a word only found in the mouths of dentists recommending their favourite toothpaste. Women, of course, do not deserve to be looked upon with any kind of sensitivity. After all, according to the hordes of ignoramuses, steeped in patriarchal mindsets that should have been thrown out with the so-called burning of witches, and the prevalence of Sati, women invite rape, in the way they dress, the way they behave, and even in the way they breathe!
One self-proclaimed controversial God-man opined that the Delhi rape victim should have turned her rapists into her brothers, before they turned into her rapists! Other wise men prudently advise women to wear overcoats, eschew skirts, wear more clothes, and not walk around ‘highly dented-painted’! One gentleman spoke of ‘Sitaji’ , the Indian mythological Goddess, being abducted only after she crossed the Lakshman Rekha, something which women should not do as there are Ravans out there.
The ridiculous suggestions do not stop there! Ban cell phones that encourage girls to make futile small talk, abolish co-education, and stop consumption of fast food! A politician even blamed it on something that apparently had more of an IQ than he did – ‘chowmein’! And under no circumstances should girls wear jeans, ‘the attire of American cowboys’!
Another gentleman sagely concluded that rapes occur in India, and not in villages that embody the spirit of Bharat, as he pointed an accusing finger against Western culture that has seeped into India.
However ‘the most unkindest cut of all’, as the Bard himself put it, is when women support the rapist. In one case, a prominent woman leader spoke of a rape case as “a misunderstanding between the two parties involved, between a lady and her client”.
Another unbelievably outrageous statement came from a woman scientist, when she remarked, “When a group of men intend to rape, they will do it! Had the girl simply surrendered when surrounded by six men, she would not have lost her intestine.” The barb came at the end, “Why was she out with her boyfriend at 10pm?”
So many self appointed guardians of public morality, patriarchal figures whose tongues do not quaver when they talk against women who are wronged, molested and stripped of their dignity. A Khap Panchayat spoke of bringing down the marriage age to prevent the rising incidents of rapes.
The modern Draupadi finds herself divested of her clothing, while Sita is still scorned for having crossed her Lakshman Rekha!
Ironic, isn’t it? That every person, and his neighbor, speaks of how to protect women from rape, instead of trying to solve the actual problem – that of engraining the ideals of respect and reverence in the minds of men towards women. As Wilhelm von Humboldt put it so aptly, “The morality of nations depends on their level of respect towards women.” Going by that, India would be somewhere at the bottom of the list, wouldn’t it?
Published by the Red Elephant Foundation
Deepti Menon has always believed in the power of the pen. Having done her post graduation in English Literature and her B.Ed. in English, she had the option of teaching and writing, and did both with great enjoyment. She started writing at the age of ten, long before she acquired a Diploma in Journalism. Deepti also had the advantage of being an Army kid, and later an Army wife, and loved the idea of travelling around India, meeting new people and acquiring new skills. She firmly believes that much of her personality was honed during those travels. For Deepti, writing needs to sparkle with simplicity and originality, and she strives to find that one word that conveys her ideas most meaningfully to her readers. She believes that Mark Twain had the right idea when he said, “The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.”
Monday, March 17, 2014
21 Tales to tell - Book Launch
A two part interview by photo-jpurnalist, Mr. Murali, taken on the day of the book launch of our compilation of short stories - 21 Tales to Tell.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xMkRbH-Hk8M
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M2HCC_7gIEQ
Videos of the launch
1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XmhxglFZdog
2. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GLNXUv-_qmU
3. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEFZ67AwdQ0
4. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ssGLFfHWrco
5. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NXNOaxbphAE
6. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dydm1WtAOqc
Courtesy:
2. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GLNXUv-_qmU
3. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEFZ67AwdQ0
4. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ssGLFfHWrco
5. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NXNOaxbphAE
6. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dydm1WtAOqc
Courtesy:
Saturday, March 8, 2014
No Capital Punishment! Capital, Indeed!
“‘Nirbhaya's’[1] death will not be in vain!” So proclaimed a VVIP after the horrendous gang rape in Delhi in December 2012. However, another gruesome case soon after turned into yet another sad statistic. And another, and another....
An innocent five year old girl was found cowering in
terror and pain, after having been raped by two monsters. Doctors found a
bottle and candles inside her, as a nation looked on in disbelief. So much of
agony inflicted on a flower-like little child, who should have been enjoying
her childhood! When she went missing, her parents went to the police station to
register a case. They had to wait for hours before the sluggish authorities
filed a complaint, resulting in precious hours lost. The police did not search
the building in which the family lived. Consequently, the little girl was raped
and brutalized over three days. Finally her cries attracted a neighbour’s
attention, and she was recovered.
What were the policemen doing, meanwhile? One specimen
had the audacity to offer Rs. 2000 (40$ approx) to the family to hush the matter
up, without going to higher authorities. While there are dedicated policemen
who do aid the helpless, these men in khaki were certainly not part of them.
Unfortunately, most policemen are tarred with the same brush, as accusations of
their insensitivity and callousness towards the weak are hurled around.
Aamir Khan’s latest version of ‘Satyameva Jayate’
highlights the apathy of the police, the medical fraternity and the judiciary
against rape victims. Callousness and gross neglect, coupled with the urge to
treat these poor victims as mere statistics is uppermost on their minds. When
will this mindset ever change? Only when these offenders are held accountable,
and made punishable for their actions, of course.
The youth have been coming out in droves to protest
against rape cases, as well as atrocities against women and children.
Unfortunately, there is no dart board towards which their darts can be directed;
for this is as clichéd as closing the stable door after the horse has fled. The
victims have undergone throes of suffering, as the perpetrators’ attitudes
imply that the law will never move swiftly enough to harm a hair of their heads.
Since their faces are covered, it is clear that no one else can do so either.
Thus, a young girl gets gang raped in a bus, three brutalized
sisters are found dead in a well, acid wars scar girls for life and little
children are targets of sexual crimes everywhere. Television anchors scream along
with their honourable panellists about the inexorable wheels of justice in the
country, the very tempting option of castration, and of course, hanging till
death. Capital, one is tempted to say, except that capital punishment never
quite adds up, given the number of advocates against it.
So, sex fiends and murderers, child molesters and acid
throwers go on a rampage, secure with advocates (pun intended!) on their seamy
side, clamouring for human rights options for their clients. What they
conveniently forget is that human rights are for humans, not for beasts and
monsters!
The Boston bombings were all over the news last year.
President Obama spoke movingly of the people who had died and those injured in
the blasts, the epitome of dignity, as he spoke of no mercy for the bombers.
America listened in silence, as did the TV reporters, the media and the
bereaved families, all willing to place responsibility in the hands of the
authorities. There were no outbursts, no voices that spoke against the
Government, as even the Opposition sent out a silent message of solace and solidarity.
Back home, the Government floundered in the mire,
unwilling to take strong penal measures; the Opposition girded its loins and
jumped into the fray, thrilled to have a juicy morsel to sink its teeth into.
Next emerged the social activists, with their holier-than-thou attitudes, talking
till blue in the face, about the death penalty not being the way to reformation.
Media hounds had a field day as they cajoled, provoked and preached in turn,
milking the situation for all it is worth. No wonder that certain news
channels today have higher TRP ratings than even Ekta Kapoor's soaps.
The Criminal Law
(Amendment) Ordinance, 2013, was brought in subsequently, expressly recognizing
certain acts like acid attack, sexual harassment, voyeurism, stalking and attempts
at any of the above, as major offences, to be dealt with under related laws.
However, rapes and sexual assaults against women and children continue,
unabated, even after this. Obviously the law is far above the common man, or
woman, in this case!
The present scenario mirrors the Tower of Babel - leaders speaking in different tongues! Certain MPs demand the death penalty for rapists, others want laws that work as a stringent deterrent. One Chief Minister seeks police reforms and time-bound action against criminals, and a seasoned politician, (probably with pepper and salt), blames the Government's ‘neo- economic liberalized policies’ for unleashing the 'animal spirit' in society. Other causes are taken out of the kitty - the decline of social values, western influences, provocative clothes, vulgarity in films and television - take your pick! A lady Chief Minister even made the horrendous claim that ‘so-called intellectuals and social workers’ who discuss rape on television are associated with pornography, and only discuss rape on talk shows for money. As a quote attributed recently to Madeline Albright went, “There is a special place in hell for women who do not help other women.”
The excuses are many, the complaints myriad! However, the fact remains that India, the country that begot non-violence, has turned into a hell hole for women and children, a fact that should make the Mahatma turn in his grave! Farhan Akhtar’s poignant poem after the Delhi rape case says it all:
The present scenario mirrors the Tower of Babel - leaders speaking in different tongues! Certain MPs demand the death penalty for rapists, others want laws that work as a stringent deterrent. One Chief Minister seeks police reforms and time-bound action against criminals, and a seasoned politician, (probably with pepper and salt), blames the Government's ‘neo- economic liberalized policies’ for unleashing the 'animal spirit' in society. Other causes are taken out of the kitty - the decline of social values, western influences, provocative clothes, vulgarity in films and television - take your pick! A lady Chief Minister even made the horrendous claim that ‘so-called intellectuals and social workers’ who discuss rape on television are associated with pornography, and only discuss rape on talk shows for money. As a quote attributed recently to Madeline Albright went, “There is a special place in hell for women who do not help other women.”
The excuses are many, the complaints myriad! However, the fact remains that India, the country that begot non-violence, has turned into a hell hole for women and children, a fact that should make the Mahatma turn in his grave! Farhan Akhtar’s poignant poem after the Delhi rape case says it all:
“What is this country that I live in?
With no equality
And the quality of life
Differs from husband to wife
Boy to girl, brother to sister
Hey Mister, are you the same?
Contributing to the national shame
Replacing your mothers
With the bent ideology of another’s perception that women have a
particular role in society
Fills my heart with anxiety
Where is all of this going?
What will emerge from these seeds that we’re sowing?
It makes my head spin
But I’m not giving in
Will keep asking the question
What is this country that I live in? What is this country that I live
in?
That takes away her right to love
Brutalises her with an iron glove
Rapes her without fear of there being justice for her tear
We’ve demeaned our goddesses
Gone back on all our promises
Become a gender distorted nation
Given our conscience a permanent vacation what do I tell my daughter?
That she’s growing up to be lamb for the slaughter we’ve got to make a
change
Reboot, reformat, rearrange, and never give in no matter how much your
head may spin
Just keep asking the question
What is this country that I live in?”
[1] At REF, we do not believe in labelling or
calling the 23-year-old girl in Delhi names like Nirbhaya or Amanat, however,
this statement retains the name in order to reproduce a quotation verbatim.
Published by the Red Elephant Foundation
Deepti Menon has always
believed in the power of the pen. Having done her post graduation in
English Literature and her B.Ed. in English, she had the option of
teaching and writing, and did both with great enjoyment. She started
writing at the age of ten, long before she acquired a Diploma in
Journalism. Deepti also had the advantage of being an Army kid, and
later an Army wife, and loved the idea of travelling around India,
meeting new people and acquiring new skills. She firmly believes that
much of her personality was honed during those travels. For Deepti,
writing needs to sparkle with simplicity and originality, and she
strives to find that one word that conveys her ideas most meaningfully
to her readers. She believes that Mark Twain had the right idea when he
said, “The difference between the right word and the almost right word
is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.”
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
NO ORDINARY DAY!
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It was going to be no ordinary day! She loved his
cryptic little notes that never failed to make her smile! Today’s was no
different. “Megha, meet me at two, I
want to say ‘I do!’” The little rhyme was written in a script that was unique,
for his handwriting was filled with curls and loops, created with painstaking
care. She touched the paper with her lips and put it away deep within her
personal diary, which was filled with dozens of these little notes on little
coloured squares of paper. Every colour stood for a different mood... when he was
elated, he sent a purple message, the blue ones were for when he was dejected.
When something touched him deeply, he responded with a sunshiny yellow message
and a red one heralded his flaming temper.
Megha loved these quizzical missives. Rohit had always
been a good friend, right from high school onwards. They had studied in the
same class, acted in college plays together, hung out with common friends and
all problems seemed to disappear when they were together. He beat up her
enemies, she consoled his innumerable female fans who complained that he had no
eyes for them. But that was because he had eyes only for her...
As the door bell rang, she shook away her thoughts. As
she paid the newspaper bill, she wondered what she should wear. Of late, Rohit
had turned from a good friend to something more romantic. She dreamt of his
lopsided grin, his way of giving her a hug every time they met, the smell of
his cologne, and the look in his eyes when he gazed at her. One day he had
taken her home to meet his parents, and she was amazed at the way his Mom
enveloped her in a bear hug, whispering, “I am so happy that Rohit has found a
girl like you! I know you will be happy together!” And this was when they had
no romantic feelings for each other. Even before she could respond, his father
shook her hand and smiled. “Welcome home, Megha!” The warmth was palpable and she suddenly
found herself imagining how wonderful it would be to be part of such a family.
Maybe that is where it all began. She started looking
at Rohit through different eyes, and many of his little notes began to make
sense to her. They were declarations of love which were wrapped in a veneer of
frivolity so that maybe, she would not be frightened away by the intensity of
his feelings. They were never mushy and overly romantic, but fun notes that
made her smile deep within, and made her think about him more than she would
have otherwise liked.
Megha had made it a point to go over to Rohit’s house
to meet his parents who had really grown fond of her. His mother would cook her
favourite dishes for her while his Dad would sit down and discuss everything
from current affairs to movie with her. She felt an amazing sense of comfort in
their presence, and often she felt that she was closer to them than Rohit
himself was. Rohit often evaded her questions on his relationship with them
saying, “Megha, don’t worry your pretty head over this! I had issues with them
when I was growing up! I was always a rebel and they were not happy about it.
But they have to accept me as I am!” She had reassured him saying, “I think
your parents are very proud of you and love you very much! Only they don’t know
how to show their love!”
Rohit had smiled, and replied, “Well, they are
definitely fonder of you than of me!” She tried to ignore the tinge of
bitterness in his voice, and the hurt that revealed itself in his eyes! But
when she tried to talk to him about it, he evaded the topic by joking about it.
“You should have been born as their daughter!” “I could still turn into their
daughter!” she couldn’t help thinking, but since he had never said anything of
the sort to her, she hugged the thought to herself.
Valentine’s Day was round the corner. The shops
overflowed with red hearts, stuffed toys and cards of every size and type. Boys
and girls went wild, trying to pick that unique gift that would melt the hearts
of their loved ones. Pastry shops made heart shaped cakes and love songs blared
from every shop. The atmosphere was electric and love was in the air
everywhere!
Megha had worn her prettiest salwar kurta, and there
was a song in her heart. She had the strangest feeling that something momentous
was going to happen today, something that would change her life forever. The
sun was shining and the world seemed even more beautiful than it normally was.
Rapt in her reverie, she suddenly heard her mobile phone ring. “Hi, Rohit!” she
said, a smile in her voice. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Megha!” came Rohit’s
response. “How many red roses have you got today?”
“Quite a few, Rohit! Where are you at the moment?”
“I am with friends right now. Why don’t you meet me for
lunch? There is something I want to discuss with you!”
Megha’s heart leapt. This was the moment she had been
waiting for all her life, the moment when Rohit would declare his love for her,
when they would discuss their future together. “Of course, Rohit! I would love
to!” Plans were made and Rohit hung up, as she thought of the gift she needed
to pick up for him. It had to be extra special, the right gift for the
occasion.
At the mall she wandered around, browsing for, she knew
not what! She picked up a card that expressed her feelings for him, and finally
chose a chunky watch for him. It was expensive, but this was the DAY, after
all!
Rohit’s eyes lit up when she walked into the
restaurant. He had made sure that their table was tucked away in a cosy corner,
far from prying eyes. “Shall we order?” he asked with a smile that warmed her
heart. There was a kind of suppressed excitement in his eyes and it was evident
that he wanted to speak to her desperately. But that would come after they had
eaten. The food was delicious, and they chatted on desultory topics while they
ate. Finally when the last morsel was eaten, and Megha sat back with a feeling
of contentment, Rohit said, “I guess it is time to tell you what is in my
heart!” Megha sat up straighter, her eyes a-dance, all set to hear what Rohit
had to say. She clasped her hands together to stop their trembling, but it was
a wonderful feeling.
“Megha, I have always
looked upon you as my best friend and companion. We have been there for each
other for the last so many years. Today is the day when that changes!”
Megha looked at him, her
heart in her eyes. Time itself seemed to have stopped and she waited almost
breathlessly for his next words.
“Now I am in love, Megha,
and it is the most wonderful feeling in the world! All these years I was
incomplete, waiting for the right person to land up. And all this time the
right person was in front of me, but I didn’t know it!” Tears flowed from
Megha’s eyes as she saw a new side of Rohit’s, the romantic side that he had
always masked with a laugh.
Suddenly a strapping young
man strolled across, and sat down by Rohit’s side. Megha looked on in utter shock, as Rohit
smiled and said, “I would like you to meet Bhaskar, the love of my life!” it was
then that the darkness enveloped her!
deepti,menon.98
The Winner of the Readomania Short Story Contest
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