Role reversal

We all have our roles to play or that is what we believe. How many times have we heard that if we stick to the role we are given, everything will fall into place and there will be harmony and peace? Depending on which role is played by whom, this makes sense to a few but unfortunately not to everyone.

As a child I was clearly told what I was supposed to do, what role I was expected to play and how. I had to take care to study and get a good job with a nice pay packet. I was not supposed to enter the kitchen and cook food, nor was I expected to do anything in the house. The lines were clearly drawn. As a boy and a man my scope of work was outside the house. Who then was to care of the house? The woman of course. The mother, daughter, wife, whoever fell on the other side of the sex genes!

India is trying hard to shed the old image of cows on the road and poverty, and trying to project sky-scrapers and the sophisticated image. But what usually gets conveniently forgotten is the equality of the sexes and how important this is to reflect the progress that a country makes. The parliament is divided over the arithmetic and caste issues of 33% reservation for women in parliament. First pass the bill, implement it and then think of how it could be made all inclusive! (It is a shame that even in the west many men still expect women to be house makers and fulfil certain roles)

What then is the role of women? Is it to be a house maker, a maid, a cook, a piece of the house furniture? To understand this, we have to come to terms with our role in life. Who am I and what is my role? Am I the king, the master, the lord, or God? Can I go beyond this and can I swap my role with a woman- my mother, sister, wife, friend?

Shout the silence away!!!

Jerryyyyyyy…… My mother’s shrill cry cut through the layers of cement, and resonated onto my ears, like the loud sound of cymbals, shocking me out of my slumber. I woke up and tried my best to induce my shut eye lids to catch the morning light. Even as my senses slackened the trumpet sounded again and the theory that light travels faster than sound was challenged (at least in my case). The cause had its effect and I jumped up from my bed and exploded into action. It was Sunday and my mom had just given me the all important wake up call.

Jerryyyyyyy…… The Chemistry teacher was staring at me with eyes like a tiger on the prowl. Had I broken a test tube? , did I miss an equation? , was my tie out of place? , what was the question? A hundred thoughts came to my mind as to why the teacher was looking at me without an ounce of tenderness. I got a nudge from a friend and a calculated whisper, ‘Don’t sleep!!’

Jerryyyyyyy…… Will you go get the news paper? , said my wife in a soft and loving tone at first and upon my reluctance to shrug off my rest, the tone became a bit hoarse, getting me to recoil and jump like I had heard the sound of a gun.

Silence is godly, which is why one doesn’t get much of it. It is so difficult to have a few minutes of silence as it is always broken by something or the other, be it in our conscious state or sub conscious state. “A barking dog doesn’t bite”, so the saying goes. Wonder whether we are uncomfortable with silence because we are scared of it. It freaks us out, scares us out of our wits and our only defence is to shout!

Where is your car madam???

The day had come to an end and we were still smarting over the thrill of the first individual Olympic gold for India. Filled with the spirit of athleticism and the rumblings of our stomachs, my wife and I started our spirited walk to the super market. It was something we religiously and happily followed, to buy things for the household and which better place than a super market, considering the length and breadth of commodities available.
‘Walking together or alone is good’, say the doctors and counsellors in one breath, good for the body and for relationships. Therefore we tried our best to suck in the remnants of the fresh air, although there were regular interruptions from a zig zagging motor bike rider and a perilously close, horn honking car driver.
Our walk ended in front of the Spencer’s super market, and we entered with the excitement and anticipation of a child, about to unwrap a chocolate. We grabbed what we wanted and negotiated ourselves to the counter, to make our payment. Here we waited not just for the pleasant and smiling counter person to bill what we bought but also for someone to ask, “Do you need a box madam?’ When this was negated, the more important question would follow, “Where is your car madam?”
Now to put this into perspective I have to throw some light on my wife. She is a German, white skinned and therefore always attended to in super markets.
The way we behave with people is based on the perceptions that we build up. This is a cultural learning and we all have our own assumptions based on this. The media as part of the culture industry play their own part in throwing up various assumptions. This being the case, we have ready made ways of behaving, once we come across a person, who for us is a group of codes.
I don’t consider my self very suave or stylish. But coming to think of it, neither does my wife. But a combination of the fact that she goes to shop at Spencer’s, the commodities she buys, her white skin and her mannerisms all together, or one by one alone, act towards creating a world, of which she is then made a part of.
Don’t we all in some way or the other behave like this? We are mesmerised by outward appearances and looks, and in the process conveniently forget the inner beauty of a human being. May be we should think before we ask next time…..Where is your car madam???