When Love is a Crime

The Indian Supreme Court's ruling that overturned the landmark Delhi High Court verdict is a re-iteration of India's age old cultural stand against freedom of choice when it comes to one's personal life, more specifically... sex life. Interfering in other people's sex lives is a national pass time. We love to decide who other people should marry/have sex with. So in most Indian marriages, instead of Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi, it is a case of Sab Ne Bana Di Jodi!

Sab Ne Bana Di Jodi

This is probably a cycle of abuse. Somebody else forced us into loveless sex, so lets do the same with others. Why should sex be a source of joy for somebody else, when it is a source of discomfort, boredom or pain for us? As a social collective, we are all survivors of passive sexual abuse and therefore perpetuate the cycle by punishing others.

We can't feel happy for others, especially when the source of their joy is a fulfilling sex life! We hate happy couples, straight or gay! Khap Panchayats, political goons, religious communities routinely bump off straight couples for the exact same reason they oppose homosexuality... They find it immoral for two consenting adults to discover joy in exploring each other's bodies. They equate love with lust and label all relationships that have not been designed/permitted by families/communities as immoral.

Equality?

So straight or gay, we are in this together! We have to fight for the Right To Love and this right has to be for everyone, irrespective of their gender. The current government is unlikely to take any bold legislative steps in an election year. Moreover, sexual minorities are not an important vote bank.

I'll go to bed with a heavy heart tonight, knowing that in my country, marital rape is legal, but sex between two consenting adults of the same gender is not. Since, when is love against the order or nature? In the land of the Kamasutra, why is love a crime?

He, She or Just Me

There was always something reassuring about Rituparna Ghosh’s movies. No matter how they ended, they always seemed to say, “It’s OK to be different.” His movies were a reflection of him and were therefore all about finding the courage to fight for what you believe in, regardless of the consequences.  

Many of his characters took on the challenge that Ghosh had made his life’s mission… to question the stereotypes perpetuated by the gender binary. These characters did it with such dignity and grace that after a point you looked at them just as people, not men or women, just human beings with dreams and extraordinary strength.

Meanwhile speculation is ripe that Sujoy Ghosh could step into Rituda’s shoes to finish Satyanweshi, a film based on one of Bengal’s favourite detectives, Byomkesh Bakshi. This is his last film, but that shouldn’t stop you from revisiting some of his best work.

Our pick is Ar Ekti Premer Golpo where Rituda plays two characters, a jatra actor who has spent a lifetime playing female characters and a gay filmmaker who is making a film based on the actor’s life. The film is a rare treat where you also get to see the legendary Chapal Bhaduri play himself. Rituparno plays the younger Chapal and the director Abhiroop. The film is a discovery of every element of one’s identity personal, social and sexual.

Ar Ekti Premer Golpo shines like a tiny flame atop a fast melting candle in a dark old crumbling house braving against a crushing storm. It is bright as a beacon of hope, yet vulnerable to its life being snuffed out by one strong gust of wind.

Rituparno Ghosh, you will be missed.

Head, Heart and Hormones

Sometimes I wonder if men and women can ever just have sex… no strings attached… We all love doing it, but one of the two… somehow always ends up investing emotionally. Wonder why?

Why is it impossible to view sex as… say a recreational activity… your favourite team sport! It helps you burn calories, keeps your heart healthy, makes you feel calm and satisfied (OK OK… So sometimes you have to fake an orgasm, but it only teaches you to be smarter and choosier the next time!)

So why is it so hard for both parties involved to treat sex as something as normal as eating, sleeping and pooping? Why do we have to complicate things? No one appreciates indigestion, insomnia or constipation… then why the hell do we complicate sex? And what’s with the nasty labelling… ‘Havas ki devi’, ‘Vaasna ka pujari’, slut, cheapo, ‘paap ki dukaan’?

Why is it so hard to separate the heart from the hormones… or more specifically neurotransmitters?  It is all in the head. Sab chemical locha hai! Detach yourself emotionally from your relationships… and analyse them with just your head… Love is a very beautiful emotion, but as you will discover, most of the time what you suffer from is another four letter word… It is in fact the most dangerous four letter word in the world… DOSE

D- Dopamine. It is a neurotransmitter that controls the brain's reward and pleasure centers. It brings about a feeling of excitement

O-Oxytocin. Yet another neurotransmitter that is responsible for making the mating couple feel like a bonded pair. (This is the scariest one)

S-Serotonin. This neurotransmitter is associated with feelings of well being and happiness.

E-Epinephrine. Street name Adrenalin… responsible for our ‘fight or flight’ response, associated with high risk behaviour… You get the drift.

Ask yourself… Are you in LOVE? Or is this a case of DOSE?

And finally we come to Marriage/Shaadi/Vivaah/Nikaah/Lagna/Biye… (I speak a lot of languages and I’m not afraid to show off!) I’m not judging… to each his own. You wanna spend your life with the same man/woman, I’m happy for you… All the best! But are you sure, you are ready for a committed relationship? Two signatures on a piece of paper do not make a marriage, neither does exchanging rings/vows/garlands… A marriage is also not a social structure built to hold together a mommy, a daddy and babies. You think children are products of love? Look around you… a vast majority of those around you are the by-products of a marriage, or the result of failed contraception or worse still marital rapes.

Why do parents burden their children with expectations? It is because most children are not the products of love. Most children are born to fulfil a purpose, to play a role, to live as per a plan laid down by ‘those who know best’. Every kind of abuse is a cycle. Emotional abuse seeps down generations. It is very difficult to break such a cycle and often this cycle of abuse becomes a way of life, it becomes the norm.

Ask yourself some really difficult questions:

Do you really love your child? Why? Is it because you gave birth to the child? Does that mean parents of adopted children will never be able to love their children as much as you do? Ask yourself… Isn’t parenthood the most selfish relationship? You create/bring somebody into your life because YOU want to love somebody… and YOU want somebody to love you back!

Do you really love your parents? Why? Is it because you feel socially obligated to do so?

Do you really love your husband/wife? Why? Is it because he/she is the one you promised to love… and the promise was made amidst great ceremony in full view of the society?

Ask yourself… What is love? Have you ever truly loved anyone? Are you capable of love? Do you feel love? Do you understand it? Or are you one of those countless idiots who dismiss such questions with a hazy, “It is a deep emotion, too difficult to define or explain…”

If you really love someone, you will always know precisely why you love that person. You will also concede that love is never selfless. “I love you”, begins with an 'I'. “You are the center of MY universe.” “I can’t live without you.” Love is all about what makes YOU happy and what makes YOUR world go round. Why else do you suffer a heart-break and feel sorrow when the love of YOUR life finds love with someone else?

I know what love is… I know why I love the man I love. It is because he is a reflection of me, my doppelganger. He cherishes and embodies the same morals, ideals and values that I hold in the highest regard. He is independent, strong, self-made… he is a warrior and bears scars of past fights… scars that prove that he is a man who will stand his ground, fight for and defend what he believes in… honesty, hard-work and a sense of honour. I know I want to live for him, with him and as his and his alone. I know I’m prepared to fight for him. I also know however, that I’m NOT prepared to die for him. 

My love IS selfish and I have the guts to accept that. I also know that my man will never be mine for he has pledged himself to someone else and is happy with her. I’m selfish and I feel terrible about my inability to be happy for him. But I’m proud of my strength and my ability to accept the truth.

You see… The truth ALWAYS sets you free!

The Truth About Harrish Iyer

6000 e-mails, 1200 smses, 200 BBM messages, almost 500 calls… and still counting… That’s what the first 48 hours were like for Harrish Iyer after the Satyamev Jayate episode featuring him was first telecast this Sunday. Needless to say, it is all very overwhelming, for Harrish is a very simple man, not the publicity hungry media whore he is made out to be. Yes he has a publicist and a manager in me, but that’s because it is humanly impossible to keep track of the vast deluge of correspondence and media invitations he receives.

It all started as soon as Harrish appeared on Satyamev Jayate. Within minutes our phones started ringing. His friends, my friends, the press… There was a flood of BBM messages, Facebook and Twitter came alive. And then the e-mails started pouring in… an overwhelming majority from people who wrote in to say they were survivors too. Harrish diligently replied to as many as he could, but after a while it started to take a toll on him. Reading message after message where people… complete strangers bare their heart to you about their suffering… it gets to you… and sometimes the best thing to do is take a break.

I decided to take him out for lunch, and we headed for the food court of a mall nearby. We ate in silence for a while for that is what he craved most… there was too much going on in his head and he needed to calm down… We shared a Pav Bhaji pizza and a bottle of cola and decided to just walk to clear our heads and figure out a way to deal with the present situation. And that is when I saw how far Harrish is willing to push himself for what he believes in.

For those who think Satyamev Jayate was Harrish’s first TV appearance, let me give you the low down. Harrish has been speaking up for fellow survivors of Child Sexual Abuse for over a decade now. He has been on talk shows hosted by the likes of Barkha Dutt and Richa Anirudh. 


He has also given several print and radio interviews and has been counselling fellow survivors for over 10 years. It is not easy… to go back into the darkest part of your life and relive it, just so that you can help another survivor confront his worst demons. Harrish has been walking what many would describe as nothing short of a mental minefield, only so he can carry others on his shoulders and deliver them to the other side.

At the mall people first stole glances at him, then started pointing, then someone developed the courage to walk upto him and shake his hand. Then one by one nearly 50 people walked up to him to introduce their families and children to him, to take pictures with him. Harrish patiently obliged, but asked them for exactly one thing in return… that they promise to educate their children about CSA.

Even now, Harrish’s work is far from over. The restless soul that he is, Harrish is now planning to hold awareness campaigns in schools, housing societies and public spaces. So if you want Harrish Iyer to speak to speak to parents and children in your school or neighbourhood, or if you are a mall manager/PR, please get in touch with me, Deborah Grey on greyfrost1013@gmail.com

We are prepared to do whatever it takes to prevent a child from confronting the horrors that Harrish did. If that means more media whoring, more appearances on TV and radio, more interviews to websites and publications... then so be it!

And while I'm still in my Maa Durga avatar... let me kill one more demon that has raised it's ugly head... the Demon of Doubt... Many people doubt the genuineness of Harrish's story. They think that he took 11 long years to break the cycle of abuse because he is gay and was probably enjoying the abuse.

Well first of all, YES... Harrish Iyer is gay! So what? He DID NOT enjoy the abuse. No 7 year old would enjoy forced anal sex! Also, homosexuality and sexual abuse are not connected in ANY WAY! Harrish was born gay... just like I was born straight! Homophobia has to be wiped out! People don't become gay after being sexually abused! Get your facts right and stop this mud-slinging campaign against Harrish Iyer or for that matter even Aamir Khan! 

The entire team of Satyamev Jayate has worked very hard to ensure that the subject of CSA was dealt with in a very sensitive way. And nobody willingly withheld information about Harrish's sexuality. The show was about Child Sexual abuse and not Homosexuality. Just as no body would introduce Deborah Grey as a straight journalist, why should anyone be expected to introduce Harrish Iyer as a gay activist?

It's time we looked deep within ourselves and killed the Demons of Doubt that plague our souls... 

Mardon wali Baat!

One of my favourite writers of all time, Ravindranath Tagore, had the unique ability to delve deep into the heart and mind of women and was therefore able to give us complex, multi-layered, strong yet vulnerable, determined yet confused female characters like Binodini, Chitrangoda, Sucharitra, Mrinal, Kalyani... and many more.
This inspired me to try and get into the male mind, think like a man, challenge my long held belief that men cannot feel romantic love the way women do, that they only care about two things sex and ego... So long as she is good in bed and adds value as a head-turning arm candy... But there have been some men in my life who have challenged this notion, forced me to accept that men too are capable of love, sacrifice, tenderness and devotion.
The following poem is an experiment. I have, for the first time, attempted to write about a man's love for a woman from the point of view of a man. I would welcome feedback from all my male readers:

Kuchh der tumhare seene par sar rakh kar sona chaahta tha,
"Baalon mein ungliyaan mat phero, irritating lagta hai!"... Yeh kehna chaahta tha...
Suti saadi ki silwaton mein reshmi badan ki narmi ko chhoonaa chaahta tha...
Par yeh ho na saka...

Roti banate waqt, gori kalaaiyon ki rangeen choodiyon ki chhan-chhan sun-na chaahta tha,
Balcony mein kapde sukhaate waqt koi dhun gungunaati tum, woh dhun sun-na chaahta tha...
Shaam ko kahin bahar jaane se pehle tumhe singaar karte dekhna chaahta tha...
Par yeh ho na saka...

Sardi ki dhoop mein Maa ke saath chhat par papad sukhate hue tumhari tasveer kheenchna chaahta tha,
Phir chori chhupe, jab woh naa dekh rahi hon, gaal hi par sahi tumhe ek baar choomna chaahta tha...
Pyaar karta hoon tumse, bas ek baar tumhe yeh kehna chaahta tha...
Par yeh ho na saka...

The above poem is the registered intellectual property of Deborah Grey and will soon be published. I strongly discourage any attempt at plagiarising/churaoing my work. Also boys... agar ladki patani ho toh original maal use karo!

Dear Maa

A few days ago I lost the woman who could have one day become my Mother-in-Law. She had been sick for many years and lived as quietly as she died. In the two years that I had known and grown to love her son, I had never once seen her. My man always said that he would introduce us at the right time. She was bed-ridden and never ventured out of the 10x12 bedroom, that was a virtual prison. I always imagined what my first meeting with Maa would be like. Today I'm writing to a woman I would never be able to talk to...
Dear Maa,
I'm your son's girlfriend. Yes the same short haired girl Papa told you he spotted in your son's bedroom as he walked past the door. The same girl he often catches a glimpse of when I sneak in and out of your house at all kinds of un-Godly hours. I have told your son that I hate this hide and seek business. We have been together for almost two years. It's time he introduced me to you.
I often wondered what that 'meet the parents' would have been like. The very first Saas-Bahu encounter is always a scary experience for both women involved. What would I have worn, a feminine pink salwar-kameez or my everyday jeans and T-shirt (wouldn't wanna come across as trying too hard). Would I have let my hair loose (the way your son likes it) or tied them up in a neat pony-tail (it's easier to manage). What would we do about the 'bahu ke haath ki chai'? Would you have asked me to make some in your kitchen, as our first meeting would have taken place at your home...
What would you have asked me?
Beta can you cook?
What are your future plans?
Why did you quit journalism, beta?
Is PR a good business to be in?
What do your parents do?
Do you like children?
Would you inspect and observe? Would you ask me to sing, smile, walk...? Ask me why I wear no jewellery? I'm not as strikingly good looking as your son. Would you wonder if I'd look good next to him? Would you wonder if I could give you good looking grand children? Would you ask me if I loved your son? Really loved him... How much? How would I answer that?
I have so many questions for you...
Did your son tell you that I performed a special pooja for your recovery during the Ganpati Festival and then sent you prasad through him?
Did he give you the Durga Pooja bhog I specially sent for you? I know Papa doesn't believe in God, because if there was one, you, the love of Papa's life, wouldn't have sufferred so much and for so long. But now you are with God and I'm with all these questions... Questions I will never find answers to...
I wanted to meet you Maa... but I couldn't... you son wouldn't let me... and I didn't insist... But I must say, your son is one tough young man. He was a picture of calm at your funeral... so was Papa... Even didi was strong... But I couldn't hold back my tears.
I'm sorry Maa... I love you Maa... and yes I love your son...
Goodbye Maa.