For Your Thoughts Only

The Council for Developing Studies in its 2014 Mid-Winter Report titled ‘Changing Society’ has gathered and analyzed data from the top 50 universities in the country. The conclusions of this study calls for an immediate rethink of the fabric and future of society.

It should be noted that the Council had earlier, in its 2011 Mid-Summer Report, observed: ‘Though the rate of growth is well below what it should be, probably influenced by global factors, it is encouraging to find that youth of both sexes are following similar professional trajectories and the gulf between men and women, by way of salaries or promotions and its associated ills such as discrimination or harassment, has reduced appreciably.’

The 2014 report emphasizes that the divide has diminished even further. The most startling revelation of this study is that the professional trajectory of the sexes has altered inexplicably.

In fact, the study reveals a mind-boggling divergence in the division of labor. Unlike the growing trend of conservatism in some developed economies as revealed by the reduction of women in the work-force and an increasing demand for stable and comfortable lifestyle, the situation here clearly indicates neo-liberal and postmodern influences.

In the top 50 universities, women show a clear preference for the ‘soft streams’, leaving the ‘hard streams’ colloquially referred to as ‘crap dip/dept’ for men. The dominance of women in the Arts departments is near total, averaging an impressive 92.3%. In the R&D divisions of science and technology departments, though the faculty still shows a slight bias towards males, the student population, from undergraduate to postgraduate levels, is mostly female. The rank-lists of the last few years clearly support this fact. Meanwhile, in areas such as management, business administration, politics and law, the absence of female students is startling with a meager representation of 4.6%.

The study mentions in passing that this development or divide could possibly explain greater awareness and financial security along with lesser frustration in society, shown by the dip in suicide and divorce rates in recent years, and increased stability of marriages, even though those entering that institution are fewer.

  

Dreams I Live

A few days back, in a dream just before dawn, I saw news of the missing MH370 flight, that it has been found. I woke up, rushed outside and waited for the newspaper boy. I tried to recollect other details, if I had seen any, the date, the dead or the survivors, the place.

When I was twelve, a girl came to me. Shoulder length hair, feather-cut I think, slender, she caught me staring at her, I must have looked surprised, she did not seem offended, we searched in each other’s eyes, there was sadness in hers but that could have been the reflection of mine, she smiled, she said something, I remember she walked away. Three years later, at a Cultural Festival away from home, in another district, I met her, I was surprised, it was as I saw, she did say something to me I cannot remember, or forget, I remember her walking away.

In my early twenties, an old love entered a dream, that she would surprise me with a visit. A week later, she turned up at the Institute, I was in a students’ meeting. Aren’t you surprised, she asked me. I shook my head. I laughed, I was damn happy. I had another chance, after years of exile, to tell her that I love her. But that I did not see and it never happened, just another love better left unsaid.

Then, in my late twenties, I saw the dream that changed my life.

It was me I am sure, a life strange though, a hundred or two hundred years earlier. I recognized my land, though I am not sure if it was mine, there was someone there who decided all for me and my lot. My hut had clay plastered walls and floor, it was dark, tiny windows that remained closed, a few mats and pots, privy somewhere, or in the open, I remember the darkness, the silence, the tiredness. Working in the fields, beasts of burden, from dawn till dusk, porridge or tapioca on a leaf scooped up with a leaf, animals sitting in the shade or under the sun, in the fields, away from houses and those folk, water from a well for my lot, a dip in the river where we were allowed. There was little time to be bitter, to think, to worry, just a life that was the same each day, every day, illness or death brought a break. The small kids slept inside with the women, others outside. I vaguely remember my wife. A girl, a good girl I heard some tell me. I do not remember talking to her, or giving her gifts, or taking care of her or the kids when they were sick. But I was there. I did not drink, well, not excessively before the bitterness took root. I did not hit her I am rather sure, before then. She looked nervous, with me. I saw her laughing and smiling, with others. Mostly, it was just silent labor for her too, just the usual. Once in a while, I went to her, I held her, with little to say, we buried our heads against each other, the quick thrusting and release over like ablution. Into that idyllic life entered a woman. Was she the girl I saw at twelve or the old love who surprised me, I wondered when I was awake. She walked past us in the fields, to the house of the lords. We muddy dirty lot disappeared into the slush, only eyes remained, peeping through the paddy or the pile of coconuts. I went near her house, feeling brave, a great hero, they let loose the dogs on me, they laughed, they thrashed, and they laughed and decided it was better fun to leave me alive. I worked harder, tired myself out, I drank longer, till I could not sense my tiredness, I disappeared into my shell, and when others tried to enter, I attacked viciously. I hated the moments of clarity, to think I can’t think. I hated life, with no love or hope or desire or thought. I woke up before I died, it must have been better fun to keep me alive to live that dream.  

Transformation

The lawyers debated about the length and nature of the alleged incident. Her side called it bestial brutality, his conceded that it was just a consensual affair. The accused seemed innocent, head down, admitting guilt about adultery, not rape, and when he looked at her, his eyes expressed hurt or dismay. He was described as a hardworking white-collar employee who lived for his wife, kids and aged parents, a mere mortal stumbling over wily seduction. Her lawyer described the abuse that went on for hours, moved to the evidence, including each object and method employed. The other side questioned her character. She looked like a victim then, shriveled, defeated, confused. Her choice of clothing, leading to the incident, was called inappropriate and suggestive. It was recorded that she was not a virgin. Her experience in matters related to sex was impressed upon the learned judge with the impassive face.

She looked up, stared at his lawyer, bewildered, flinching at the conjectures about her sexual life, her sad eyes turned to the accused, her lawyer, the clerks before the judge and then to the judge.

She changed then.

Her back straightened, chest pushed out, her breasts heaving, the shawl slipping, her legs parted slightly, in a wide stance, a hand on her hip, her ample curves visible, the other hand toyed with a charm on a chain near  her breast. His lawyer stopped the narration when she smiled, a smile that lurked on her smirking lips and teasing eyes, the eyes that seemed to have turned kohl-lined, dark and fearless. She stared at the lawyer for a while. Then, her seductive gaze fell on everyone in the room, daring people to speak. Her tongue flicked out to wet her pouting lips or suggestively poked within at her dimpled cheek. The judge wiped his forehead. Her lawyer appeared stunned. The accused kept his head down, fidgeting, nervous or scared.