Family or predators? I was sexually abused, so were my mother and brother

http://www.dailyo.in/lifestyle/sexual-abuse-motherhood-child-abuse-ministry-of-women-and-child-development-family/story/1/5944.html

Nineteen per cent the of world’s children live in India and children constitute 42 per cent of India’s total population. In 2007, the ministry of women and child development, presented the “Study on Child Abuse”, which among many reported facts, stated that 88.6 per cent of physically abused children in the country suffer abuse at the hands of their parents.

It is ironic that in a country which invests childcare in the hands of parents and family, believing that home is a safe and secure haven for the "future of this country", is quite literally a breeding ground of violence and abuse. The recent case of a Delhi University student complaining against her parents for subjecting her to physical and sexual abuse, therefore, should come less as a shock but more as a wake up call for all of us, as citizens of this country and as cohabitants of the society.

I was sexually abused as a child by someone in my family who was as respected as my own grandfather. I know that some of my female cousins have been sexually abused too, by someone or the other within the boundaries of the seeming perfectness of the middle class relatives community.

One of my own brothers was sexually abused as a child by one of our female relatives. Back in college, some of my hostel friends confessed of being abused as children within the confines of what we call "home" or "family".

My mother, aunt, grandmother - all have suffered sexual abuse at some point of time in the past by people as close as their own grandfathers, brothers-in-law and fathers. My previous and current female colleagues at work, at least once in their childhood (at least eight out of ten), have admitted to sexual abuse, covert or overt.

The study conducted by the government, therefore, did not come as a shock to me, when it announced that 50 per cent of child abuse came from people known to the child or from positions of trust and responsibility. Instead, what amuses me the most is a hypocritical sense of hope that we latch on to when it comes to protecting the ideal image of a home, set of family members and our unbelievable trust in the institution of motherhood.

As a society, which knows and faces this harsh reality of child sexual abuse within the cosy confines of homes and families, why are we so shocked to confront that mothers, more often than not, play a pivotal role in letting this abuse happen? By keeping mum and/or by scolding an assaulted child, thereby robbing the child of the basic human security of trust and love, she is as much of a culprit as the one who assaulted her child. The media has reported the recent case of the Delhi University girl registering a case of physical and sexual abuse at the hands of her mother, as being "rarest of rare".

Social media pronouncements have declared this case as "one-of-its-kind" – almost unbelievable and as an aberration. The sentiment behind this lurking shock is the stereotype attached to motherhood that thrust a sense of purity upon the act of being a mother.

It is revealing and telling for us as a society how we choose to discuss an issue as sensitive as child abuse. Almost every day, we watch, hear or feel cases of child abuse reaching us. There is some Sonu lurking at a chai dhaba on our way from Delhi to Himachal on the highway who suffers abuse at the behest of his employer. There is a Chhotu braving it all with his employer behind the wheels of a truck he works on after he ran away from home facing intense economic and emotional abuse. He has accepted sexual abuse as a normal fate.

There is a Shanti from some poor state in some corner of the country who lives and works in a household at one of the metropolitan homes. And however much we would want to shed our tears on the fate of these "street and poor urchins", there is a ghastly reality peeping violently within our own "cute, little, happy home", sometimes with the silent nod or studied silence of the women who allegedly make this home "perfect".

I know an aunt in my neighbourhood who abused one of my childhood friends calling him over to her house on motherly pretexts of "he is like my son and I like to watch him study", "I want to feed my new recipe to him" and "He makes me feel my son is around".

I know my friend’s mother had asked her to shut up and not discuss the issue with anyone when my friend reported that her own brother tried to force himself upon her. I know my cousin’s helplessness when she was branded as a "liar" after she talked about a certain uncle in the family making sexual advances whenever she was alone. I know my own mother had suffered for more than a decade till she got married with the silent ignorance of "nothing is wrong in the grand happy large family" she came from.

It is time we redefine relationships in our lives. It is time we question the apparent good health of institutions like home. It is time we move beyond the definition of a family, uncoiling the strands of our collective social and political DNA and wash away the acids oozing from festering beliefs.

http://www.dailyo.in/lifestyle/sexual-abuse-motherhood-child-abuse-ministry-of-women-and-child-development-family/story/1/5944.html

Why I lost respect for Modi after hearing his speech in Bihar

http://www.dailyo.in/politics/narendra-modi-nitish-kumar-bihar-assembly-polls-bjp-jdu-muzaffarpur/story/1/5287.html

On July 25, Prime Minister Narendra Modi visited Bihar and addressed the Parivartan rally in Muzaffarpur, in the run-up to the Assembly elections, campaigning for the BJP. In close to a half-hour speech that Modi made, among other statements he made (on Bihari DNA, his political alienation by Nitish Kumar, etc), he talked about the power situation in Bihar.

It is important to highlight this aspect in his speech because in a situation wherein the PM addresses a political and public rally, chooses a core infrastructure concern, and makes a promise full of rhetoric and very low on a concrete plan, he loses a bit of his stature.

I belong to a village in Nalanda district in Bihar. I left the state in 2004 for my higher education. When I visited my village for a month-long stay in April 2004, summers had begun to fester the day. There was very little electricity. Power used to be there during the days and/or light up the nights with a lot of irregularities, but still, was enough for basic sustenance. This was relief because years preceding that time saw almost negligible electricity in my village. Today, when I visit the village, I find all the houses lit up. Students no longer study next to kerosene lanterns and eye-damaging bottled diyas. Households share hot food at ten or eleven in the night and are no longer forced to have dinner by the time daylight lasts. Farmers in my village use surplus power for irrigation and other activities. Older people watch their religious soaps and young women and men their daily dose of youth-centric serials.

Statistics suggest that from almost zilch production a decade ago to a draw of nearly 3,182 MW now, per capita consumption of electricity in Bihar has increased by 70 per cent. In the past decade, 16,000 additional villages in Bihar have been electrified. Today, 96 per cent of the villages in Bihar have almost 16-17 hours of electricity every day and share the same story as that of Narayanapur - my village in Nalanda.

Albeit slow and "just there but not enough", the improved power situation has revolutionised the social dynamics of rural Bihar. It is important to understand this change from the vantage point of what Bihar was to what it is today. Therefore, for a prime minister to totally discount the merits of development in the past decade by a chief minister who might not have a favourable position in his mind space, is not just an error in administrative judgment by the head of a democratic state, but also a faux pas in political communication, especially when, during his chief ministership, Mr Modi had waxed so eloquently on the need for cooperative federalism and cordial dynamics between the center and state.

A prime minister's promises to its audience (even if it comes from his political position in a party) sound vacuous without a roadmap. Modi shied away from mentioning the reasons behind the "abysmal" power situation in the state. In a state where power production is a major concern as of now, by bringing in a parallel from Gujarat, he exposed himself to making a comparison that denotes a clear lack of understanding of resources available to Bihar and the other problems that plague the power situation here. For citizens aware and ambitious at the same time, what was expected from the prime minister was a clear communication of short, medium and long-term goals towards improving the power structure in Bihar, if at all he chose to address this concern in an open rally.

One expected him to mention that being the third largest user of solar power in India and one of the leading names to experiment with organic methods of farming, Bihar has a huge potential to harness the sun and bio-fuel and bio-mass (from sugarcane and paddy, for instance) for power production. One expected the honourable prime minister to speak about the need to aggressively commercialise the model of power distribution in the state when consumers in Bihar have readily showed interest in upping their expenditure to meet their requirements. One also expected him to go beyond the theatrics of public speech and point out at the loopholes and promise the audience towards taking sincere steps  in plugging them, if he so wished to come down heavy on the current political ruling.  

In short, the Muzaffarpur rally fell short of Modi's stature as a leader. As a prime minister who addressed a rally in Bihar amidst other state commitments on his maiden visit to the state after 14 months, a visionary roadmap sans fluff was found amiss. Instead, the hashtags on Twitter, such as #ModiInsultsBihar, reek of a grave faux pas as far as political communication is concerned.

http://www.dailyo.in/politics/narendra-modi-nitish-kumar-bihar-assembly-polls-bjp-jdu-muzaffarpur/story/1/5287.html

The Aarushi case receives a timely, thrilling investigation

http://www.sunday-guardian.com/bookbeat/the-aarushi-case-receives-a-timely-thrilling-investigation Journalism has undergone massive changes after the digital boom in India. Video journalism, backed up by social media, has created a space where the relevance of the old rules is slowly diminishing. The old model had journalists focusing on careful, research-base chronicling and the patient chasing of stories. This has gradually been replaced by a culture of real time, breaking news stories coupled with aggressive analyses in the form of opinion-based content. While one may argue that this has, to an extent, diluted the quality of journalism, it cannot be denied that it has also resulted in a democratisation of media space that has gripped the national consciousness. It is in this context, especially, that I feel Aarushi, Avirook Sen's second book, is an important and timely one: to an extent, it combines the virtues of both the old and the new models of journalism. Sen's gaze is that of a seasoned and perceptive researcher. He patiently sifts through the documents of the case, a significant volume of criminal files, by any standard. The book raises a series of questions on the investigation. By the end of the narrative, one realises that the manner in which the Aarushi case was hastily finished by the police is unfortunately representative of the police and the legal system of our country. Perhaps the most admirable thing about Sen's endeavour is his never-say-never approach, a must when you have to chase a story set in the murky suburbs of Noida. It is as enthralling for readers as it is inspiring for budding journalists. Aarushi is written in a gripping style, quite reminiscent of a crime thriller. Sen maintains a remarkable restraint throughout: he does not overly dramatise the story, which is the right call because of the highly volatile media attention that this case has received. At the same time, not a single page in this book compromises readability. This is easier said than done. Here, for instance, he provides us with a small but revealing sketch of Dr B.K. Mohapatra, one of the CFSL scientists who conducted DNA tests on the evidence collected from the crime scene. "At lunchtime one day I found Mohapatra sitting unaccompanied in the courtroom, minding two large folders on a table in front. He was a short, spectacled man, with a thick Odiya accent that sometimes confused people from the north ('blood', for instance, would become 'blawed'). He looked simple, and so were his concerns. As I sat next to him, he complained about the unpleasant extended summer, and the long waits in court. He then said it must be very hard work for reporters as well. He had seen us standing at the courtroom's door all day because we weren't allowed in. I mumbled something about everyone having to do a job, when he asked me: 'Do you get TA/DA?' I told him we didn't, but he was entitled to allowances, surely. He nodded, and I thought how the government had taken over the scientist in Mohapatra." In recent years, books like Dilip D'Souza's The Curious Case of Binayak Sen, Chander Suta Dogra's Manoj and Babli: A Hate Story and Ritu Sarin's The Assassination of India Gandhihave given Indian investigative writing a shot in the arm. These books aim to provide some kind of closure to the respective criminal cases they tackle, while pointing a finger at the system. However, books like these also run the risk of losing objectivity due to ideological fervor, in some cases. Aarushi, when seen within this larger trend, appears as a text striving to make a statement by not just telling an untold story but also trying to establish readers' connection with this kind of writing. So while the book bares the futility and the exasperation of a grimly ambitious legal and social system in India, it is also highly conscious of its literary ambitions; at places, the overall tenor of the book approaches Agatha Christie territory. By doing so, Sen walks a tightrope. But Sen is no stranger to this style: even his debut book, Looking For America, took quite a few risks with its all-or-nothing style. It had its share of detractors that criticised it for its alleged sensationalism. The uniqueness of Aarushi lies in engaging with this concern headlong. Sen rebukes the insensitive reportage of the Aarushi murder by most mainstream media houses. And he does it like an old school journalist should: by not offering judgment or analysis but leaving enough cues and facts to build an argument. For instance, the section about the narco-analysis (commonly known as the "lie detector" tests) speaks volumes. "As the story panned out, the Talwars' undisputed presence in the flat that night burdened them with having to not just plead their innocence, but also answer the question 'If you didn't do it, who did?' They did not know. In fact, investigators knew much more than them; the CBI had enough material to, at the very least, form a plausible alternative hypothesis. This is the material they hid from the Talwars, and prevented from being brought on the record in court. This material was gathered by investigators in the months of June and July 2008. They are the reports of the scientific tests on the three servants. A few fragments were leaked in 2008, but once AGL Kaul took over, they were just buried." While chronicling the various gaps in the CBI's final narrative of the case, while explaining the profile of the households which interrogate the case — Talwar's family, relatives and friends, household helps and the government machinery, which ought to help in dire situations — the author all but accomplishes what sociologists and social scientists would aim for in a detailed academic paper. Barring a few editorial overlooks, Aarushi is a highly recommended read. http://www.sunday-guardian.com/bookbeat/the-aarushi-case-receives-a-timely-thrilling-investigation

Seven cold questions Aarushi book leaves us with

http://www.dailyo.in/politics/aarushi-talwar-murder-case-avirook-sen-rajesh-talwar-nupur-hemraj/story/1/4967.html

The nation woke up to a sensational murder case in May 2008. A 14-year old girl, Aarushi Talwar, was found dead in her apartment at Noida’s Jalvayu Vihar. After a five-year long ordeal, the court pinned the "guilty" tag on the Talwars – Aarushi’s parents. Currently, the couple serves their term in Dasna jail.

Despite the haste and drama that accompanied this trial, there were many layers and edges to the murder that has left one of the most intriguing cases of its times "unsolved" till date. Avirook Sen’s book,Aarushi, is an attempt to lay bare the narrative that went unnoticed, or perhaps was deliberately ignored.

Here are a few questions the book raises, which must stir the conscience of someone somewhere – the legal system, society, police and/or the media:

1. The story that charges the Talwars guilty is rife with contradictions – loopholes that have been systematically ignored. Take, for instance, the assertion that Aarushi was raped. Initial medical reports claimed that nothing abnormal was indicated in her sexual organs. By the time the case was closed, her "cervix was found wide open". What is baffling is that no one – neither the media, which seemed to be engaged in a close scrutiny of the case, nor the legal system – raised questions over this extremely contradictory situation. And in the event of this development, the next question is, what was the reason for an apex body like the CBI to seek the help of either this erroneous declaration or the callousness with which they handled this case to establish something as basic as "Who killed Aarushi"?

2. Continuing with the line of many "misjudgements" and "misunderstandings" on the basis of which the case was established, is the equally baffling case of Hemraj’s blood-soaked purple pillow cover. While the CBI claims that the pillow cover was found in Aarushi’s bedroom, the reality is that it was discovered from Hemraj’s own room. It is frustrating and infuriating to see that such carelessness punctuated the narrative around the whereabouts of the pillow case. Even in the end, the CBI’s final version, touted as the "true version", went unquestioned by the various onlookers and custodians of justice.

3. Bharti Mandal, the househelp who worked for the Talwars, gave her first statement to the effect that the door was locked and "I never touched the door". Later, her version changed to "I tried to open the door but the door did not open", peppered by "I am saying what I have been taught to say". All logical construction of the case required a closer look into this departure of statements from something to the other. Unfortunately, no attempt to investigate was made.

4. KK Gautam, the UP police officer who was involved with the case, on being asked if there was any pressure on him, replied, “It is best we do not discuss this… you already know everything already. Please let us not discuss this anymore.”

5. There was no blood on the stairs that led to the terrace. Blood was found only on the railings and the terrace. Hemraj’s blood soaked pillow case was found in his room. The CBI established that he was killed in Aarushi’s room. Why was the opinion that he could have been killed on the terrace not considered at all?

6. Narco analyses of Krishna, Raj Kumar (other servants linked with the case) and the Talwar couple reveal that the former two are guilty and the latter innocent. If scientific analyses are rendered invalid in the court of law, by what supreme logic was the infuriating, sexist and misogynist "story" - the sensational coverage that Aarushi was a serial flirt, that Talwars were a couple with "loose sexual morals" (stereotyped as becoming of all upper middle class households) - given so much weight that the Talwars were pronounced guilty after a humiliating process of character assassination?

Dr Dahiya’s insinuation that Hemraj and Aarushi were involved in a sexual intercourse (not rape, as the later post mortem suggests) on the day of the crime was touted as a prima facie conclusion that led to other interpretations in the case. It is unbecoming of the legal system and the media to not raise any hue and cry over how this was a confident assertion without any evidence.

7. The most astonishing and infuriating information that the book uncovers is that the verdict in the case was written a month prior to the actual announcement of the sentence on the Talwars, even before the defence could conclude its argument. As Judge Shyam Lal’s team revealed, because there were no good scribes available in the area they worked in and because language (English) had to be perfect in putting across a historic judgement, the "writing" had to be done prior to the actual announcement – before Lal retired!

These questions, and many other ignored facts, uncovered by Avirook Sen’s book cry for a fresh and objective analysis of the case that failed not just a teenager, but the entire concept of justice.

http://www.dailyo.in/politics/aarushi-talwar-murder-case-avirook-sen-rajesh-talwar-nupur-hemraj/story/1/4967.html

When women step out of Indian epics to express real desires and choices in real books

http://scroll.in/article/727933/when-women-step-out-of-indian-epics-to-express-real-desires-and-choices-in-real-books
The Indian novel writing tradition is by and large a postcolonial phenomenon. Right from one of the first novels in English written by Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay to the deluge of novels written, published and consumed today, the Indian novel tradition has traversed a long distance in terms of scope and expanse.

While we have had novel writing in various languages and dialects of the country, we have also had a defined canon of “Indian Writing in English” taught at universities and colleges in India. Translation of novels from regional languages into English has been continuously shifting the boundaries of Indian writing and destabilising the appropriation of representative Indian novels within the elitist definition of a “canon”.

Traditionally, debates around canonisation and canon formation in India have been dominated by class, caste and gender concerns. Women Writing in India, published in two volumes edited by Susie Tharu and K. Lalita, is a comprehensive collection of women writing in India from 600 BC to the present day. Tharu’s anthology and a survey of the contemporary literary oeuvre of our times reveal the intricate intimacy between literary production of women writers and the temporal contours of their respective histories.

Mythology, mythological characters and myths have informed women’s writings over centuries. Till the early twentieth century, the layers of engagement with history within women’s writings were more nuanced and under the sheets, as if cautious to not unruffle the “said” and the “done”, the “established” and the “systematised”.

Breaking the mould

From the second half of the twentieth century, one witnessed a registering of protests and contrary opinions almost unabashedly. Savitribai Phule’s published writings, or the works of Ambai and Ismat Chughtai were feminist writings that struggled hard to put women’s voices as a legitimate concern of history.

Contemporary writings by women have heralded a different wave of communication for and with women. They not only create strong characters, but also explore contours of literary definitions beyond the limits of the defined canon of feminist writing.  Especially while exploring mythology, they have been informed by this constant political struggle to appropriate their recreated, gendered version as the historical version of a feminine reality.

Sita and Draupadi

Kavita Kane’s Sita’s Sister and Karna’s Wife explore the epics – the Ramayanaand the Mahabharata – in a fashion which is almost a retelling of the two representative beej kavyas of India. The eyes of the two women relegated and tucked away rather dismissively as the wives of two characters, Laxman and Karna respectively, struggling below the massive weights of the epic heroes, refashion the entire narrative in a way which is more real, more fleshed out and more relatable.

The world of Urmi, Sita’s sister – not Laxman’s wife or Ram’s sister-in-law – is one that in its very introduction, the cover of the book itself, discards the male heroic grandeur of the quasi-historical narrative. The book presents a layered representation of Urmi’s identity as an intelligent, ambitious, uncomplicated and matter-of-fact woman who is capable not just of loving madly but also of defining her love with new meanings of intellectual achievements in the absence of her beloved.

She is not the complaining, crying, pining, vulnerable woman who writes love poems while Laxman is away in exile. Urmi utilises the redundancy of a marital life by informing herself of various academic disciplines and earns the position of a sage invited for an annual conference – almost entirely a male bastion.

In Karna’s Wife, the author tries to meticulously lend a voice to the doubly marginalised Uruvi, the second wife of an unsung hero Karna. Uruvi is a fiercely independent woman who makes choices according to what she wants, rather than “what should have been”. And she does so in a logical fashion and not as a statement of protest.

Her alacrity in responding to situations and her deftness in political matters etches out a character which is strong and free – a character which would never ever have been a part of the popular narrative across history.

In the same book, the writer also lends space to the other two marginalised women in the epic – Draupadi and Vrushali, Karna’s lover and Karna’s first wife, respectively. This authorial space to Draupadi’s articulation of her desires for Karna and insights into Vrushali’s thinking after Uruvi shares Karna’s love, make for a far more nuanced, layered and humane narrative than the grandeur of an epic literary style can achieve.

Rati, wife of Kama

Anuja Chandramouli’s Kamadeva recreates the story of Kamdeva and his wife Rati. For the first time in contemporary literary discourse, Kamadeva enters the imagination of the authorial voice. Recreating the lives of the eponymous hero and his wife through a revisiting of his representation in the Puranas and theUpanishads, the is to most diligently expropriate a voice almost lost in epic canonisation. The translation and transcription of characters from mythological narratives into the popular and contemporary idioms of our times make the story more relatable and believable.

These contemporary women authors have not crafted their women characters to challenge the status quo. These characters register their strong presence without jostling for space. It is as if they already belong there. It is natural cohabitation with whatever exists without destabilizing the social order.

The women – Uruvi, Urmila, Rati, Draupadi, Sita – register an acknowledgement of their roles and identities within the larger patriarchal and male-dominated order of the day. They ask relevant questions, demand pointed answers, and ensure their voices are listened to and not just heard. These contemporary characters from mythology are not like Jane Eyre or Bertha Mason or Maggi or Tess or Lolitha who struggle and sometimes lose their sanity or even their lives in the process of seeking their space.

Contemporary writings by women recreating the mythical and mythological characters of the Indian literary tradition seem co-terminus with the rise of a new middle-class woman. The search for an identity and exploration of the self in a postmodern world of shifting definitions around feminism and patriarchy have reincarnated the mythological characters as real women walking around in the contriving corridors of literary history with the liberating ease and comfort that seems almost a utopia.

In the event that a khap orders the murder of a woman over asserting her choice who to live with, Draupadi narrating how she always felt desirous for Karna despite being identified as panchali is a fate almost enviable and ideal.
http://scroll.in/article/727933/when-women-step-out-of-indian-epics-to-express-real-desires-and-choices-in-real-books

Why we love to hate Smriti Irani

http://www.dailyo.in/politics/smriti-irani-bjp-rss-congress-hrd-ministry-education/story/1/3285.html

The youngest minister in the Narendra Modi cabinet, human resource development minister, Smriti Irani's recent interview with Arnab Goswami on Times Now has raised another round of hullabaloo for the minister. Goswami begins by pointing out to her how she has been looked down upon as a "political lightweight" and one who has always being embroiled in controversies. During the course of the conversation, two seminal issues emerge; first, test of Irani's ability to prove her competence against all kinds of attacks - mostly personal - and second, the opening up of a debate on how educational policies are being determined in our country.

The attacks are not new for Irani. Photographs of her in swimsuit did titillating rounds in the media soon after she was sworn in. Ace academicians and intellectuals commented on her TV career to obfuscate her abilities as an education minister. We look back and find that she has been accused of pandering to powers that be in order to justify her position in politics. All these and many more, merely reveal the subconscious layering of misogyny inherent within the patriarchal psyche. After all, how else can a woman make it, for this male chauvinist world, than by mis/abusing her femininity?

Syllabi in educational institutions are meant to prepare a student not just for exams but for a life beyond classrooms. With studies and research showing the huge gap between education and employability, a culture very intolerant to alternative beliefs, an insensitive and abusive social media which has cost lives of influential thinkers and activists like Khurshid Anwar, there is an urgent need to have a systemic reform in the education system. This reform - the more holistic and comprehensive it is - the better it will serve to create tolerant minds.

I remember as a kid, when we were introduced to NCERT textbooks, the first thing one learnt in laboratory manuals was to experiment, observe and infer. When in college, while the layers of ideological schooling were skinned, one was left to wonder, where is it that we experimented? We were made to believe through brilliant logic and argumentation that Manu Samhita was evil, that Bible or Quran or Ramayana are patriarchal fables. But there was a disconnection here. Where did I read Manu? Where did I read the Bible? It was never a part of my course.  It came sifted to me and sieved through a very lopsided version of a western and anglophilic intellectual discourse. I do see a need and an urgent one at that to simply overhaul the mandate of educational foundations.

It is true that for the first time in the history of modern India, the HRD ministry has done something that has traditionally been considered the privilege of an elitist few. The ministry opened itself up to suggestions from common citizens in setting the curriculum for students across the country.

It is important that in a democratic culture like ours, we have a space for intellectual tolerance and dialogue. It is extremely problematic as a democratic nation to show the kind of derision we do in discussing anything intellectual that does not belong to the "left" and/or of the "liberal". Ironically, this treatment comes from the "liberal" clan which is the most authoritarian, totalitarian and almost fascist, in rejecting the overall discourse outside the realms and limits of its ideological "-isms". Today the left in this country is more right wing in its absolute disregard for theory alternate to what it proposes.

It might be true that the ministry receives requests from many organizations not quite 'left' and/or liberal' in their leanings. It might also be true that there have been pressure groups trying to assert their influence on the ministry - but why does it come as a surprise? All those left and liberal intellectuals who swear by Foucault's theorisation on "power" also know of Althusser's ideological state apparatus which explains the impression of dominant ideologies while defining policies and plans. Just as a certain workbook defines the syllabi and curriculum while Congress is in power, so does another while BJP rules the roost. Why is this disproportionate cry in the media then? Why this preferential treatment?

Why is it that the "right" in India has been constantly demonised as only "saffron" and only about "cultural resurgence"? Why is it that we never hear of a debate between the right economics of focusing on building capabilities versus the left which argues for doling out token subsidies and freebies?

As a nation that elects its representatives every five years, it is extremely important that decision making in the country is increasingly decentralised. It is pivotal that citizens involve themselves beyond mere participation to meaningfully engage and influence the various stages of policy cycle - agenda setting, policy development, policy implementation and policy evaluation. In a country that constitutionally mandates and grants freedom of speech and expression as a basic fundamental right, this engagement will invariably have inputs from citizens all across the ideological spectrum. Are we to deny this space to those who think differently from us, however revolting to our intellectual consciousness?

Smriti Irani's fidelity to constitutional norms and due processes, her dexterity to listen to the pulse but also step back, neither dictating nor being dictated, has led to some historic moments - the FYUP and DU impasse being broken, for instance. In the words of Smriti herself, for a "political non-entity" who is not a "Cinderella", transforming education as a ministry of "political friction" to "political consensus" at the young age of 39 is a task that only a "tough nut" can crack.

It is important that in a reaction to the first ever interview by the much written about HRD minister, we give Irani's views their due and not label and stereotype a woman making it so far. Let us debate and dismiss rather than wax rhetoric, be averse to dialogue and asphyxiate anything which is not "left" and not "liberal".

http://www.dailyo.in/politics/smriti-irani-bjp-rss-congress-hrd-ministry-education/story/1/3285.html

What do sex workers dream of?

http://www.dailyo.in/politics/sex-workers-india-gb-road-new-delhi-brothel-trafficking-shweta-katti-women-prostitution/story/1/3175.html

"I lost my mother at a very young age. I was three then. My father molested and raped me for 15 years. I had no clue if what was happening to me was right or wrong. I just felt uncomfortable and dirty. I met my boyfriend when I was 20. We eloped from a small village in Karnataka and came to Delhi. I was promised the moon and stars. Later, within a week after our honeymoon, I was sold off to a brothel here, on GB road. After almost 30 long years, it feels like home. It at least gave me an identity, where I take care of myself and don't depend on someone to fend for me." — Sweety

"I came to Delhi looking for work. But an uneducated woman on the Delhi streets makes a better living by selling her body than by doing odd jobs. Gradually, I chose this. My family back home, in Madhya Pradesh, thinks that I work as a maid and stay with the family I work for. I send them money and that's that." — Reema

"I ran away from home thinking my boyfriend will follow suit as promised. I reached Delhi but he did not. I was scared. It was a new city for a girl from a very small village in Assam. Later, after being drugged and raped at the railway station itself, I was sold off here."— Baby

"I was married into a family that tortured me for dowry. I ran away to Kolkata first. My husband tracked me down. One thing led to the other, I was trafficked several times till I finally landed in Delhi."— Dolly

These stories and many others unfolded as I made my way up the numerous flights of stairs that lead to places that we partially get to glimpse at through cinema and literature.

"Encounter rooms", as these women call the tiny, dingy enclosures within rooms, can barely host a house mattress, a pillow, a small stool that doubles up as a table, and a water bottle. Beyond living make-believe lives in these encounter rooms for their clients and customers, these women live another life populated by the friends they have made here - sharing the kitchen, a washroom and an "aangan". They also share laughter over the movies they watch, their pain and trials of living the lives they do; bring up the "illegitimate" children they have mothered – sometimes because they were forced to, or because they wanted to.

"My mother belonged here. She was helpless and perhaps made this choice for me. I will not. My daughter is two years old and I want her to study. I can't dream of giving her an almost dream-like life that you live, but I will ensure that she stays out of this mess," Saima said.

"I had no option, didi. Now when I look back, I see that I don't know anything else to fend for myself. Sewing, knitting – all this will take time. And how much will it earn me in this place I live. And who will accept me outside? Why do I go back to a ruthless world which has no value or compassion for its people? If I asked you to do something else, against that which you already knew and earned your living with, didi, would you do it? The money, which I agree comes easily, is money that has helped me build my house in my village. I will return to it when I grow old. Anyway, even this profession is ruthless. There is nothing you can do when you grow old," Reema's voice trailed off.

"I send my son to school. It is right here, near the railway station. I know the company he finds here is bad. I also know that he will not be able to escape his past that easily. But that is the best I can do for him. I cannot see him becoming a pimp, a part of this muck," asserted Baby.

Before I left the company of these women, I was left with baffling questions. Who are we to deem them victims? Why do we think we have the authority to grant them an alternate life when most of us making those suggestions come from elite classrooms and air-conditioned conferences?

Most of us slip from one surname to the other, choose the least risky of professions that gives us the "grace" and "stability" to comment on something that is so far removed from mere academic and intellectual constructions.

These women with abused bodies, broken trust, subjects of their circumstances, know what they are doing; they know that it's part of a larger system and social phenomena, and they have been taking corrective measures to ensure that their futures are secure. They take pride in their efforts and their conviction, if not in their profession.

It is time we moved away from the Umrao Jaan depiction of these women, stopped seeing them only as victims, and stopped treating them as titillating "stories" to be written. It is time we acknowledged women in red light areas as resilient agents of change and hope.

(The women at Kamathipura, a red light area in Mumbai, sent one of their daughters, Shweta Katti, to the US to study Psychology at Bard University. Shweta wishes to come back and work in the red light areas of the country.)

http://www.dailyo.in/politics/sex-workers-india-gb-road-new-delhi-brothel-trafficking-shweta-katti-women-prostitution/story/1/3175.html