Book Review: Do Not Ask the River Her Name

 [I first published this under the title “Israel-Palestine Conflict Seen Through The Eyes Of A Malayali Nurse” in YouthKiAwaaz]

A forty year old Malayali nurse working in the Middle East seems like an unlikely narrator of a book which largely focusses on the Arab-Israeli conflict and the oppression of the people of Palestine. Yet it is Ruth Albert who emerges as the soul of Sheela Tomy’s latest novel “Do Not Ask the River Her Name”.

Sheela Tomy says that the when she first thought about writing this book, she wanted to document the experience of the female migrant workers who are often ignored when we talk about the migrant experience. During the two decades she had spent in the Middle East. She’d met countless Malayali nurses who live and work in harrowing conditions so they can send money home. Born into near poverty, they give up their own dreams and aspirations so they can fund the healthcare and the education of the rest of the family. However, it was when the author met a Palestinian national and heard her story, that the scope of her novel expanded to embrace the Israel-Palestine conflict and of how Palestinians are refugees in their own land.

There are three main protagonists in the novel- Ruth Albert, Asher Menahem and Sahal Al Fadi- each of whom serves as a narrator. The three of them represent the three Abrahamic faiths, and they are all atypical in different ways.

Ruth is a Malayalee Christian who was first sent to Saudi Arabia to earn a livelihood, She narrowly escaped falling into a scam, returned to Kerala, got married, had a family, and then went to Dubai so she could earn enough to pay off for her cripped husband’s medical treatment and the education of her daughters. She nearly got caught in a human trafficking scam in Dubai, and was fortunate enough to land a job as the caregiver to a retired Jewish professor in Israel. One would presume she doesn’t have much of a life outside of her work, but she takes a deep interest in learning about the history and culture of the Holy Land, and stars in a popular v-blog where she chronicles different places of historical and religious significance to Christians. In this she is supported by the family she works for, and her narratives brings so much of the history alive for us.

Asher is an Israeli Je who’s heart beats for dispossessed. He is supported by his father who faced displacement as an Iraqi Jew, and therefore has sympathy for the Palestinians. But his mother who lost most of her family during an attack by the Hammas disapproves of his political ideology. Despite the tension at home, Asher continues to support the Palestinians who are fighting for their freedom.

Salal lost his parents in a gruesome accident when he was still a child, and was forced to become the head of the family when he was still in school. A bright student, he gives himself an education, and works hard to ensure that Palestinian get their rights. He is also an extremely talented writer and excepts from his memoirs are quoted throughout the book.

The novel straddles geographies and time zones. It jumps from the verdant landscape of Kerala to the desserts of Dubai and the snowy slopes of Switzerland. Within Israel, action shifts between Nazareth, Jerusalem and other places of historical importance. But along with that, the book goes back back-and-forth in time. Often, an incident is happening in the present at historical site, but the narration shifts to the same thing that happened centuries ago. It is almost like nothing has changed except the names of the protagonists!

The book has a large and diverse cast of characters, none of whom is what you would expect. Lily grew up in abject poverty, but is determined to snatch happiness out of everything. Leah is irreverent and combative, but she is always there when you need her. Joshua followed orders, and never expected to be penalised for doing so. But most intriguing of all is Mariam- when Ruth first encounters her, you are not sure if she is a person or a figment of Ruth’s imagination. Till the end, you are not sure; all you know is that she is always there, remembering what happened to her 2000 years back and relating it what is happening today. The city of Jerusalem features prominently in the book- a city that is sacred to all three of the Abrahamic faiths, but which is in the political control of one of them. There is even a retracing of the route taken during the stations of the cross, which is rich with symbolism and critical to the plot.

Because of the ongoing conflict in Palestine, that part of the story gains prominence, but equally important is the story of migrant workers in the Middle East. These are not educated fancy people with agency. These are poor people, who pay agents hefty sums of money to be given a chance ot work and earn abroad. Their life in the Middle East is perilous and they are forced to ignore the oppressive system so they can continue to earn money. Many often fall prey to human trafficking schemes, and each of them lives in almost inhuman conditions. However, here too, you find they find support and sympathy where they least expect it.

The book takes it’s title from a Mahmoud Darwish poem:

Don’t ask the trees for their names,
Don’t ask the valley who their mother is.
From my morehead bursts the sword of light
And from my hand springs the water of the river.
All the hears of the people are my identity
So take away my passport.

It is hard to tell who the River is. Is it the river that separates the oppressor from the oppressed? Is it the river of compassion and justice that flows through the book? Is it river that traces the journey of Ruth from Kerala to the Holy Land? Or is it the River Jordan that plays a key role in the climatic scene of the book?

“Do Not Ask the River Her Name” is an extremely difficult book to read- in fact it would not be wrong to say that you cannot read the book, you can only experience it. There are times when you wonder if what you are reading is the reality that the author is describing, or something that is the product of the imagination. The book is rich in scents too- the smell of apple blossom permeates the book, as does the smell of burning flesh. The book is told in multiple styles- straight narration, dairy entries, extracts from Salal’s memoirs, transcripts from Ruth’s v-log. And there is poetry and Biblical quotes.

August is ‘Women in Translation Month’, and if you haven’t narrowed in on a book yet, do pick this one up. You will be swept away by the descriptions of places, the depth of empathy displayed by each of the characters, and by the meticulous research that the author has done before embarking on the book. The book could not have been an easy one to translate, and Ministhy S. has done a commendable job. Do read.

[I received a review copy from Harper Collins, but the views are my own.]

Can We Use Our Current Rage To Demand Greater Transparency In Sports?

[First published in YouthKiAwaaz]

There is a lot of rage among India sports fans today.

Rage against the rules that disqualified Vinesh Phogat for being just 100 grams overweight.
Rage against the implementation of the rules which denied her at least the silver medal, which according to them she “earned fairly”.
Rage against Antim Panghal because she “stole” the slot that Vinesh Phogat should have had, forcing her to compete in a lower weight category.
On the other side, you have rage against Vinesh Phogat for being a “sore loser” and choosing to a file an appeal against her disqualification.
Rage against fans of Vinesh Phogat for supporting an anti-national who spoke against the government.
Rage against Vinesh Phogat for allegedly using her clout to deny other athletes of a chance to compete in the Olypics.

If exhibiting rage over sporting outcomes was an Olympic sport, Indian sports fans would have certainly got the gold medal!
But in all this rage, there is surprisingly little rage for the one issue that we should all be raging against. The System.

There is utter lack of transparency around selections

If you have been reading/ viewing/ hearing the news, by now, you would know that Vinesh Phogat (who normally weighs around 57 kgs) wanted to compete in the 53 kg category at the Paris Olympics. However, by the time she returned to wrestling after recovering from her ACL injury, she was informed that 19 year old Antim Panghal had already sealed the quota for herself by winning a bronze medal in the World Championships. Since trials were not going to be held for her preferred category, in order to compete in the Paris Olympics, Vinesh chose to take part in the trials in the lower weight category. She won, and was assured a place in her third Olympics.

The decision to not conduct the trials in the 53 kg category is, however, quite ad hoc. In the past where there were very few athletes who had the ability to perform well at the international level, using the performance in one international competition to secure a berth in another international competition might have worked. However, today, in sports like wrestling where the system is geared towards churning out international level competitors at a steady pace, the selection process has to be democratised. When there are multiple contestants vying for a limited number of slots, it is imperative that sports federations conduct free and fair trials to select the athletes who will get to represent the country. Unfortunately, selections are often ad hoc in India, and this is not the first time that the spotlight has been on the lack of transparency in the selection process.

In 2019, Mary Kom was unilaterally chosen to represent India at the Olympic trials in view of her past achievements. Nikhat Zareen, who was then a young and upcoming boxer, had challenged the decision and had demanded a fair trial. Despite Mary Kom opposing the need to conduct the trial, the Federation had to give way to the demand and conduct the trial (which, incidentally, Mary Kom won, though she refused to shake hands with her young opponent after the bout).

Lack of transparency leads to power structures

When there is little or no transparency in the process followed by sports federations in the selection of athletes to represent the country (or even to get considered for training camps), it not only supresses the emergence of new talent, but also grants undue power to the sports administrators. A system where merit is not the sole criteria for selection invariably leads to groupism and corruption, and creates an environment where it is easy to demand sexual (or other) favours in exchange for advancement. Sexual harassment has always been about power, not about sex. When absolute power is concentrated in the hands of individuals or coteries, it is easy for them to abuse the power, and it becomes almost impossible for female athletes to avoid sexual advances or to complain against it.

It is precisely this systemic sexual harassment of female wrestlers that the wrestlers, including Vinesh Phogat, were protesting against. They wanted to draw attention to a system where a man in a position of power was abusing his position to demand sexual favours from athletes who were in no position to resist the advances. During the protests, much was made of how Sakshi Mallik had invited the sexual predator to her wedding. However, in a system where one man has the ability to destroy your career, do you really have a choice? While the federation denied (and continues to deny) allegations of sexual harassment, it is indeed ironical that by denying Vinesh Phogat a transparent trial, they tacitly admitted that the system is one that enables both intimidation and sexual harassment.

Today, it is easy to blame Antim Panghal for denying Vinesh Phogat a chance to compete in her chosen weight category. What people fail to understand is that both Antim Panghal and Vinesh Phogat are victims of a system where power is concentrated in a few hands, and merit does not matters as much as the ability to avoid displeasing the people in power. When the wrestlers protested against systemic sexual harassment last year, they did not just demand justice for themselves, they wanted a better system for younger wrestlers like Antim. During the protests, in reply to a direct question, Vinesh actually told a reporter that she was willing to sacrifice her career if it was going to help lakhs of other young women compete safely.

As sports fans what can we do?

If we as sports fans want to see Indian athletes do well in international events, we should be vocal in supporting athletes who are demanding greater transparency and accountability from sports authorities. Systemic sexual harassment is always a sign that something is wrong with the system, and instead of raging against athletes for giving the nation a bad name, we should join them when they are protesting against an inequitable system. If some of our current rage could be channelled into amplifying the voices of athletes who are demanding an equitable system which offers every athlete an opportunity to train and compete according to their ability, that would be far more beneficial in the long run.

Indian sports fans come alive every four years and either elevate athletes to divine status or pull them down from pedestals they never asked to be placed on. After a few weeks of displaying their nationalism, the Olympics and Olympians are forgotten, and people move onto other things- till the next Olympics. If we really cared about the future of Indian Sports, we would be demanding transparency and accountability from the sporting federations. We will be demanding better training facilities, equitable access to the best coaching and a transparent system of selection. It is only when the system is overhauled that we will see a resurgence in Indian Sports. Is that too much to expect from the Indian Sports Fan? 

This Book Discusses India’s Hyper-Nationalistic Education Curriculum

 [I reviewed “The Smart and the Dumb: The Politics of Education in India” for YouthKiAwaaz].

When I visited government schools, especially in rural areas, I was often asked to speak to the high school students. The intention of the headmaster was clear- they wanted me to give a motivational talk on how education was the passport to a better future; a means to move not just themselves but their entire family into a more aspirational circle. Yet this was the one thing I could never bring myself to do.

However, much we may want to believe it, education is not a silver bullet, certainly not in India. While education was expected to be the great leveller, it has instead created a different kind of inequity, one that is more insidious, because it is invisible. “What is the point of education?” “What does education mean to different people?” These are some of the questions that Vishal Vasanthakumar examines in his book, “The Smart and the Dumb: The Politics of Education in India.”

When policy makers or educators think about education in India, they first look at the numbers. But while there is a lot of data available, statistics alone doesn’t tell the whole story. For instance, the data tells you that more than 90% of children in India are enrolled in schools, but data also tells you that a large percentage of students in (and beyond) grade 5 struggle with basic literacy and numeracy which should have been accomplished in grade 2.

Clearly the truth is somewhere between these two data sets. And it is this truth that the book seeks to uncover. The author spent many weeks understanding the many aspects of education in India, and the issues he has brought the issues to light through impactful case studies.

Challenges in Pedagogy and Social Capital

Perhaps the greatest challenge in India today is around the quality of pedagogy and teaching. Do we have a sufficient number of schools, are there enough teachers teaching in those schools, are the teachers competent to teach, does the curriculum address the needs of education, is our grading system adequate and accurate, and (perhaps most importantly) does our system prepare students for success in life. These are the questions that policymakers and educationalists contend with on a daily basis; and each of these issues is brought to life in this book.

The book also talks about how India has literally set up an industry around entrance exams, where the worth of a person is reduced to how well they perform in these national and state level entrance exams. When you need to pass an entrance exam for everything from getting admission into professional colleges to getting a coveted government job, the focus of education shifts from acquiring knowledge and skills to acquiring the ability to pass an exam.

Isn’t such a system designed to fail? Doesn’t the proliferation of coaching centres like the ones in Kota help people were already privileged to do well in the exams, though not necessarily in life or learning. What of somebody who does not have access to the kind of money and the kind of resources needed to go to the centres. How will they measure up against a definition of success they can never attain?

The author has also gone deep into the issue of social capital, where people who have the privilege of being born into a certain caste or class genuinely believe that their intrinsic worth is responsible for their success, while ignoring the social networks and the cultural background that helps them at every stage. These are the same people who oppose affirmative action because they believe that it will snatch away the opportunities they feel entitled to.

As the author puts it, “by continuously peddling the myth of meritocracy in a neoliberalized world where opportunities are getting farther and farther out of reach, the politics of education become a politics of humiliation where regret and comparisons are constantly provoked.”.

Curriculum, Women’s Challenges, and Conflict Zones

The book also questions the curriculum, especially the social science curriculum. Instead of creating an environment where students learn by debating and questioning, our curriculum has always reflected the political ideology of the period. In the early days of the republic, the curriculum was used as a tool for nation building and students were taught that their identity as Indians superseded their tribal, religious or linguistic identity.

Today, the predominant ideology is one of hyper-nationalism, which seeks to erase inconvenient parts from history. Both these ideologies have, in different ways, marginalised the already marginalised sections of society. Is either the right way to teach social science?

The author devotes two chapters to specific challenges that women face. Many women especially from marginalised backgrounds struggle to access education for a host of cultural, physical, social and financial reasons. This is a vicious cycle because education will continue to be deprioritised for women till the status of women improves, yet for the status of women can only improve if they have access to education.

The other issue which is not discussed at all is the expectations from mothers, especially mothers of children with a learning disability. Why does society put the burden entirely on the mothers? Why are mothers expected to do so much more? Why do they feel so much guilt? Is it because our education system is not equipped to deal with anybody, who is not, exactly confirming the definition of normal?

The author also talks about the role of education in conflict zones, and the dire need for adequate trauma counselling.

Takeaways and Reflection

The book does not offer solutions, because the author acknowledges that the “problems of education in India are diverse and are being handled by some of the best in the world.” Instead, what the book attempts to do is the explain the challenges, and invite the reader to engage with the fundamental question- “What do we educate for and who’s needs are served by education.” It is only by understanding and engaging with these questions that education can be democratised so it leads to an equitable society.

Whether you are a policy maker, a teacher, a school administrator, a parent or just a concerned citizen, this is an important book to read to understand the education system in the country. The book will force you to look at education in a different way, and it is only after understanding the challenges that one can work towards finding solutions.

When I would be asked to speak to school children, I would not speak about why they should study hard- instead, I would focus on their dreams, and emphasise that while not every dream can come true, they should dream big because it is only when they dream big that they can achieve more than what they now have. The book has a number of stories of students for whom the education system didn’t deliver what they thought it would deliver. Understanding why would be the first step.

[I received a review copy of the book from Penguin India. The views are my own.]

Two Incredible Translations Of A Powerful Writer Of Hindi Prose

 [First published in YouthKiAwaaz]

Author and playwriter, Swadesh Deepak, has been described as ‘one of the most uncompromising of Hindi prose writers’ of modern times. The English reading audience was first introduced to his works when his memoir, “Maine Mandu Nahin Dekha” was translated from Hindi and published as “I Have Not Seen Mandu” a few years back. It stunned readers with its’ honest portrayal of a man battling mental illness and yet seeking no sympathy for it. Speaking Tiger has now brought out two more collections of works, “Court Martial and other Plays” and “A Bouquet of Dead Flowers Stories”, and in the words of his translator, Jerry Pinto the two collections should be read in tandem with his memoir, because “They are a trilogy, the Deepak trilogy. They may bring you no closer to understanding the enigma of Swadesh Deepak, but they provide an odd consistent world, an addictive world.”

Court Martial and Other Plays

“Court Martial and Other Plays” is a collection of translations of three of Deepak’s most critically acclaimed and popular plays. The title play, “Court Martial” is, of course, the best known, and even people who are unaware of Sudesh Deepak and his huge body of work have seen, read or at least heard of this play. It describes in the most unflinching and uncompromising manner, the classism and casteism that is inherent even in the Armed Forces. The story show you exactly how deep the rot has set in every institution in the country, and by the time you reach the chilling end, you are left wondering not why there are acts of violence, but why there are not more acts of violence.

The other two plays are equally powerful in different ways. “Kal Kothri” is an intensely personal play which examines the role that a man is expected to play in a patriarchal society and of how the family unit conspires to keep the man on the pedestal, even when perhaps he no longer deserves to be up there. The protagonist of the play is at the same time a perpetrator of patriarchal norms and a victim of it- it leaves you with many questions, none of which have answers. The play also deals with something which is a recurring theme in Deepak’s stories- the intrinsic corruption in government institutions and the difficult choices that people are forced to make between doing what is right and doing what is right for them.

The third play in the collection, “The Saddest Poem Ever Written” is at the same time an unlikely (and tender) love story, and a commentary on class differences and how power structures are used to oppress. The play examines the many power structures that exist simultaneously and of how when the oppressor classes fight among themselves, it is always the weak that have to pay the price. Deepak shows that while often violence is the only means by which the vulnerable can protest, violence doesn’t lead to the desired result. At the end of the play, you are left with nothing more than a profound sense of unhappiness because of the inequities that exist in the system.

Each of these plays is a gem, and it is worth buying the book for any of them individually and certainly for all of them collectively. I am glad these translations have made the works accessible to a population that is not conversant with Hindi.

A Bouquet Of Dead Flowers Stories

“A Bouquet Of Dead Flowers Stories” is a collection of 10 short stories chosen from the vast repetoir of Swadesh Deepak, and taken together they give you a picture not just of the man he was, but of the world he inhabits. Some of these stories talk about class and caste and other socio-economic differences, and of how everybody wants to take out their frustrations lower down then they are. The two stories that form the book ends of the collection- “Hunger” and “The Child God” both deal with how vulnerable children are and of how they are exploited by adults, including adults who should be protecting them. In both cases, the child cannot even trust their parents to do what is right for them- even as you are angry with the parents, you realise that it is not entirely their fault either- don’t the parents need to survive too?

Many of these stories have as a protagonist a man who is quite different from the norm. A man who tries to rebel against the patriarchal expectations of how men should behave. And yet, in their attitude towards women, they confirm completely to the gendered stereotype. Since this is an issue that keeps cropping up in many of his stories, it is probably something Deepak has struggled with himself. In a story, “Dread”, for instance, the protagonist Naveen has not done any productive work in his entire life, yet he refers to the women in his life as “silly woman”. It is probably his way to pandering to his own ego, yet, it also shows a remarkable self awareness on the part of Deepak to write about this with such honesty.

Some of the stories also feature adult men who have a very strained relationship with their fathers. They are clearly at the mercy of their fathers, yet do not want to be. Some of the sons know the “secrets” of their fathers, but are those “secrets” really that secret, or do people just pretend they are? One knows that Deepak’s father used him to carry messages to his mistress- one wonders if these stories also reflect the confusion he feels about his relationship with his own father?

An image that recurs often in the stories is of people holding up dead flowers either as a peace offering or as a gesture of farewell. There are romances where people give up their entire soul for the other person but get nothing in return, except dead flowers!

Most of the stories have strong women protagonists- clearly the author is fascinated by women who have a mind of their own. Yet, often, these luminous women fall in love with entirely unresponsive men- they give much more than they receive, yet seem to accept that. Obviously, this is not the kind of iniquitous relationship that society should be moving towards, but is that what Deepak sought in his life? We do know that he suffered from mental illness- was this quest for the tantalising woman a symptom? Or was that what brought it on?

Every story in the collection will leave a profound impact on you. Each story will have you questioning the very foundations on which our society is built- the norms, the hierarchy, the inequities. The writer asks a lot of questions, for which they are perhaps no answers.

Read the books together, or read them separately, but read

The translations in both the collections are impeccable, and at no stage do you feel the stories/ plays were written in any language except English. Some of the stories indulge in bilingual word play, and the translation is so masterful that you cannot even imagine how the passages might sound in the original. The stories translated by Jerry Pinto are particularly masterful- if Swadesh Deepak, the writer, grabs your attention, it is partly because of the power of Jerry Pinto, the translator. The translations by Pratik Kanjilal, Nirupama Dutt and Sukant Deepak are also adequate, though they lack the absolute mastery that Jerry Pinto’s translations have.

Though there are two books, you don’t have to read them together. But I can guarantee that if you read one, you appetite will not be vetted till you read the second. His memoir, by all accounts, is an extremely disturbing read, but I do know that I am going to pick it up soon, because I cannot have enough of Swadesh Deepak. I cannot thank Speaking Tiger enough for making a prominent voice of Hindi writing accessible to the public which is more comfortable reading English.

[I received a review copy of the books from Speaking Tiger. You can follow them here: Speaking Tiger.
The views are my own.]

Why The Witch Hunt Against Imane Khelif Is So Wrong

 

[First published on August 2, 2024 in YouthKiAwaaz]

Imane Khelif was born and brought up as a woman in a country that prioritises male children. She was assigned female at birth, has a functioning uterus and has never thought of herself as anything but female. She also suffers from DSD (disorder of sexual development) because of which she has an XY chromosome and her testosterone levels are higher than for an average female. None of this, however, takes away the fact that she is female.
Khelif has been participating in international boxing competitions for several years (including the Tokyo Olympics where she didn’t go beyond the quarter finals).

She failed an unspecified “gender test” at the World Championships in 2023, which she appealed against. The results of the test were never made public, and she later withdrew her appeal because the Association which conducted the test was suspended for irregularities.

Khelif has been allowed to in the Paris Olympics as a woman because she met their eligibility criteria. 

Angela Carini knew all this even before she stepped into the ring. Her bout lasted 46 seconds, during which time she left herself open and was punched on the nose twice.

Khelif was clearly the better boxer and it is unlikely Carini would have survived the bout even if the punches thrown at her were weaker. But she chose to react emotionally and imply that she lost not because Khelif had the better technique, but because Khelif had more strength than one would expect from a woman. And the internet was quick to pick it up.

What followed was nothing short of a witch hunt.

Khelif was branded a man, he/ him pronouns were consistently used to describe her and people brought up images of men inflicting violence on women to polarise the public. Posts were written on how women trained for years only to have their match snatched away by “a man”. But didn’t Khelif herself also train for years to get to the Olympics? Did any of those people screaming about “unfairness” think about how unfair it is to indulge in personal attacks on the basis of one statement made by an emotional loser?

Calling Khelif a “cheat”, as many have done, is not right. Even if it turns out that her testosterone levels are higher than what is allowed by the rules, it doesn’t make her a cheat, because to be called a cheat you should have intentionally done something. Khelif didn’t take anything to increase her testosterone levels. It is the biology that she was born with, and if anything she has got cheated out of her right to compete in a sport which she has trained hard for. 

The attacks continued even after the IOC issued a statement in her favour

Even after the IOC issued a statement in favour of Khelif’s participation as a woman in the Paris Olympics, people continue to question how she could be allowed to participate as a woman against other women. This, despite the fact that experts have explained that gender is a continuum and that women suffering from DSD could have higher testosterone levels, and still be considered women.

Boxers who have competed against Khelif in the past have said that she punches harder than most. But none of them have questioned her gender. Yet, the witch hunt continues, without any thought being given to the trauma that it might cause Khelif.

Has anyone spared a thought to what this trial on social media might do to Khelif? 

The insinuation that Khelif has always lied about her gender doesn’t make sense? She is from a country where male children are prized and prioritised. Why would her parents have brought her up as a woman, unless they genuinely believed that she is one? There are photographs of Khelif as a young girl- are people insinuating that her parents perpetrated a hoax for decades only to enable their child to compete in the Olympics as a woman? 

More importantly, Khelif is from a country where transgender persons are not recognised, and gender change is illegal. Do the people who are deliberately misgendering her even realise that they are making her vulnerable to violence from fundamentalists? Worldwide, transgender women are more vulnerable to attack than cis women. By raising questions about her gender in this manner, Khelif is being put at risk deliberately.

While people on social media are full of sympathy for Carini (who according to them was cheated out of a medal by a man), do they pause to think of the emotional trauma they are causing Khelif who spent her entire life as a woman? Do people even realise how wrong it is to link link the Khelif- Carini bout to domestic violence, and how triggering it can be to victims of domestic abuse?

The issue of transgender women in competitive sports is a complicated one

The issue of transgender women in competitive sports is a complicated one, and it has to be dealt with in a manner that is fair to all, and sports federations are doing their best to frame guidelines and refine existing ones. Indulging in mass hysteria merely on the basis of a statement by one defeated athlete doesn’t help. If Carini wanted to lodge a protest, she should have done so in the current manner- through the sports federation/s of her country.

This trial on social media is a sordid chapter in women’s sport, and it is a shame that so many are gleefully participating in it without making an attempt to understand the issue. If a woman who was born woman, brought up as a woman and thinks of herself as a woman is not considered a woman because she doesn’t fit your mental picture of a woman, then the problem is with you and not with her.

A Peek into the world of the Madiga community of Telangana

 [Book review of Gogu Shyamala’s “Father May Be An Elephant And Mother Only a Small Basket, But…”]

Gogu Shyamala is a noted Dalit academician, gender rights advocate and writer. Born into a family of agricultural labourers in Telangana, she is the only one of three siblings who escaped being forced into bonded labour and managed to obtain higher education. The intriguingly named “Father May Be An Elephant And Mother Only A Small Basket, But…” is collection of short stories translated from Telugu by various translators.

Perhaps it would not be right to call them short stories- they are slice of life vignettes, which invite you into the world of the Madiga community in rural Telangana. Most of the stories are told from the perspective of children, adolescents or youth, and though the stories may not be autobiographical, it is clear that they are based on what the writer experienced as a young girl before being sent off to a boarding school to study. Each of the stories show how deeply entrenched the caste system is, and of how families live in constant fear of reprisals from the upper caste reddys and velamas if they are displeased in any way. Yet, the stories are not about gloom and oppression; Shyamala describes the games people play, the songs they sing and ways they snatch joy from everyday living.

The stories which spoke of Ellamma brought out the many aspects of the goddess. The upper caste people refer to Ellamma as ‘their goddess’ (‘their’ implying she belongs to the Dalits). Yet, they believe that Ellamma brings them good fortune- 
 Everyone in the village believes that Ellamma’s hands, her feet and her words, all possess the gift of good fortune. Even people from the next village say the same thing. No upper caste woman has this gift. When a girl comes of age or gets married, her relatives call Ellamma and fill her lap with grain and fruit.
 But though the practice has now been outlawed, Ellamma could also be considered the property of the village, and in one story, a family is willing to face the wrath and violence of the upper caste in order to protect their daughter from being made an “Ellamma”. Nothing is as it seems, and the only thing that remains constant is how the caste system continues to be imposed despite it being outlawed.

Perhaps my favourite story was the one where the narrator was the water tank. Environmentalists write about how traditional patters of land and water use conserved natural resources, and of the danger of interfering with them in the name of development. Shorn of jargon, the story said exactly the same thing!

It is hard to read the book and not come away with a deeper understanding of the life lived by Dalits in rural Telangana. The translations may not capture the nuances of the Telugu dialect used by the writer, but they do capture the people and places.

I read the book during #DalitHistoryMonth, soon after meeting Gogu Shyamala at an event and being blown away by her understated power and charm.

Five Reasons to Read Brotherless Night

 [Brotherless Night, by V. V. Ganeshananthan recently won the Women’s Prize for fiction. Here are five reasons to read the book.]

“I knew that if a certain kind of person wanted something done, I should comply without asking too many questions.”

These lines from the introductory passage of the book sets the tone for ‘Brotherless Night’, the story of a young Tamil girl who dreams of becoming a doctor only to have her world torn apart by the growing unrest in North Sri Lanka.

 I would have loved to give the book more than five stars if I could, so here are five reasons (one for each star) why you should read the book:

 1. It provides a deep insight into a period that I lived through, but from a perspective that I was not exposed to. Growing up, I read about the escalation of the Sri Lankan conflict from the perspective of the IPKF, with occasional interviews of the leaders of the Tamil Eelam. This book talks of what it means to be Tamil in Jaffna- to witness the growth of power and violence in the region, and to be reluctantly pulled into the vortex.

 2. The book deals with what one family living in Jaffna goes through- of how events impact different people differently, of the push and pull of situations beyond their control, of how tragedy impacts people in different ways, of the secrets they cannot trust even their own family members with. The characters are deep and unpredictable in their predictability (or is it the other way round).

 3. The book is told from the perspective of a young woman, and raises important issues of patriarchy and control within the framework of internal war. Men go out and fight, women are expected to cook for them (even when women are asked to assist in field hospitals, it is the caregiving role they are expected to play). Yet, when things go wrong, it is women who resist in ways that men cannot.

 4. Though the book is a work of fiction, the research that the author put in is so deep that you wonder if it is actually a fictionalised account of someone she knows personally. Most of the key incidents are told from more than one perspective, and small details make you believe the author is describing a scene which she actually witnessed.

 5. The book is full of references to books. People gift books to each other, people make book recommendations, there is also a feminist book group! Your TBR may not thank you after reading this book because it will go up.

Since I wanted to give the book more than five stars, a personal reason why I loved reading the book- I loved the Tamizh words and phrases and the descriptions of familiar food!