Showing posts with label #ramonasworld. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #ramonasworld. Show all posts

‘Congratulations!! It’s a perfectly normal and healthy baby girl!!’
Most people would be thrilled to hear that. But then again many would consider that to be a disappointment, a burden, a result of bad karma, a tragedy or a reason to get pregnant again, hoping this time the Gods’ won’t curse you with another girl child.

I’m not here to judge, I’m just thinking out loud and trying to understand – why for generations, a girl, a woman has been seen as an inconvenience, not just by men but by women too. So this time, I’m going to place the ball in your court and ask you 6 questions. Take your time and think about it. I would love to hear what all of you – male, female, young, old etc have to say. And of course I know I am generalizing here - there are exceptions, but we’re looking at the larger picture.

*Please don’t reply with it’s our culture/tradition/religion; unless you have actually read up on your culture and can send me facts to back up your statement. Facts don’t include what your parents, teachers, guru babas said.

1.     Why is it expected that a good wife will cook, clean, look after the house, bear children, attend to them, to her husband, his family and tend to every need each of them may have and go to work whilst a good husband will go to work – all else is beneath him?
2.     Why is this ‘good’ wife an even better one if she quietly bears the brunt of his stress – be it emotionally, sexually, physically or mentally?
3.     Why is a single woman frowned upon and called a slut if she enjoys sex, but a single man is patted on his back and called a stud if he does the same?
4.     Why is it so hard for single, independent women to find apartments to rent whilst if there are men, it’s no problem at all?
5.     Why is she a bad influence, not a fit candidate to take home to ‘mother’, if she wears clothes that show skin, lives her life her way, has lots of male friends, tattoos, parties, smokes and drinks?
6.     Why is she too much to handle if she isn’t afraid to stand up for and be herself? Why is her opinion not worthy of being voiced?

I know most urban women will relate to at least one of these questions. We have all experienced these situations directly, seen it second hand within families, amongst friends and with house-help too. I know a lot of men who seem very liberal and open minded but when it comes to their own wives, sisters or daughters, something kicks in and everything that was acceptable suddenly isn’t.

If you could help me understand why we as a society (again not just men) discriminate against our own, I would be able to find peace and make some sense out of what we are doing to ourselves. It’s easy to point fingers, bash, blame everyone and the government!

But before I choose sides in a seemingly never ending blame game, I just want to ask –

How many of you mothers have knowingly defended the wrongs of your sons, husbands and fathers; how many of you have oppressed your daughters; secretly favored your son over your daughter – yet she is the one you expect to look after you in your old age; taken abuse silently – verbal or physical; judged other women based on their appearances?

How many of you women have thought it was okay for your mothers to behave this way? And let it continue?

How many of you men have treated women badly even in the smallest way? Accepted parents/ in laws hitting their grown daughters? Thought certain women need to be taught lessons? Told a woman how to behave/dress? Asked for dowry? Expect her to do all the housework? Watched women get teased, tormented, harassed in public and just walked away minding your own business?

I state again, I am not judging or condemning anyone here. But if there is an inner voice that (despite the obvious external discomfort) identifies with an ‘I have’ to even one of these questions, I think it’s time that we remember to look deep within each of ourselves, before pointing fingers outwardly.

There is no denying - A change must begin.  But it only begins within - regardless of religion, education, social standing, wealth and gender.
Understanding love and attachment...

There wasn't much to do in Ajmer besides visit the Ajmer Sharif Dargah. Well that's what I'd have thought if not for some 20 odd people insisting I see this institution, this legendary landmark they call their Almamater. And so, I did just that. I went to Mayo.

As it turns out, I had a few friends from my college days that were in Mayo, but the number of friends I'd had for years that also turned out to be Mayoites was an insane surprise! Add to that, all the new friends I made on my journey so far, who were also obviously Mayoites. I didn't realise until that moment, that my life was suddenly full of them! Every single one of them without exception, so passionate about their boarding school, swearing love, loyalty and allegiance to it - far more than I've ever had the pleasure of receiving from all the men in my life! Jokes apart though, it intrigued me. What was all the fuss about? What was up with the attachment the boys - regardless of age, have with this place? Why this desperate need for me to go see what at the end of the day, is a school?

I think for once, my pictures will speak more than my words... but then I don't really think my pictures did justice capturing the elaborance, serenity and magnanimity of it all. From the grand enterance to the grand main building to the grand golf course to the grand everything - this place was grand!!! I'm not sure I've said it enough...grand!!!

The students were home on holiday so I was given a VIP tour around every single inch of the huge school campus and its premises. I visited the dorms, the class rooms, the guest house, teachers quarters blocks, learnt of the history, the admission process, the uniforms, the prices and all the tons of amazing facilities this school had from horses and stables, indoor and outdoor pools, basketball and squash courts to cricket and football fields. Awestruck and dumb founded, my jaw hit the floor. I felt like I didn't have a real schooling and all this made me want to go back to school immediately or have that lie of convenience turn into a truth immediately, so that my (fictitious) son could be schooled there and there'd be no debate about it, since his (equally ficticious) Jaipuri father would certainly be a 3rd/4th generation Mayoite too! I was suddenly oh so envious of all my friends who studied here!!!

I was told of stories, mischief the boys got up to, the naughtiest batches and I visualised it all as we passed by peacocks and squirrels on the numerous, extensive and impeccably manicured gardens and lawns. I even sat on that famous marble bench that every Mayo boy will know of.

I was really thrilled all my Mayoite friends pushed me to go visit it, dissing my whole 'but its so random' attitude. I now get why they are so attached to it, why they talk of it so fondly, why they are like a secret brotherhood, why no matter what - their children will always follow suit and be admitted there; why they boast of being a 5th or 6th generation Mayoite, why they have so much pride. I left Mayo thoroughly impressed, my Mayoite friends all gloating and beaming as my phone beeped non-stop with curiosity, during and after the visit.

I stood corrected - this certainly wasn't 'just another school'. Besides the obvious beauty, it was these 3 hours that seemed to transcend all dimensions of time. The past kept flowing in and out of an imaginary future, as I breathed in the cool, fresh air, alive and totally aware in every moment of the now. 

So if you're in Ajmer, do go visit here too - trust me you won't regret it, especially if you have someone like Ripudaman Singh to show you around, like I did. And if you have a son, you should seriously consider sending him here to Mayo, he'll thank you and me for it.




































 











Another day begins in Mumbai. I have much too much going on. In my life, in my heart, in my head, with work etc. We all do I guess. As Sapna, Harrish and I make our way to a place I've never even heard of in my city, our rickshaw explodes with political talk, India, the possibility vs the reality of change and solutions. All that chattering comes to a halt as we reach our destination and find a smiling Dipesh awaiting us.

The four of us started walking through the chawl. This place has Muslims and Hindus living together in peace side by side. I started looking around and it took me back to a different life, in a different era. Kids playing together outside, every huts doors wide open, roosters running around, everyone keeping the area clean and plain happy faces all around. I dressed very simply as I did not want to stand out or seem different, but I guess all of us just didn't look like we were from there, so the novelty factor got everyones attention as we passed them by. Smiling eyes peeked from windows, happy shop keepers waved and excited children led us to the exact place we had to go to. Just then I saw a coal iron - it was so beautiful. I asked if I could take a picture, the lady who was ironing was more than happy to let me and posed even with a big smile. The other girls around her chuckled and hid behind the curtain. Once I finished clicking, they were all more than eager to speak to me and tell me how this is the best iron for clothes.

We then proceeded to 'The HIJRA Community Centre' at Char Chowghi. We were welcomed by Gauri Sawant, a woman who is witty, charming, hilarious, motivated, inspiring, strong and she shed so much light upon us. Appropriate considering it's Diwali! We greeted the Guru Ma, sat on the floor with a few more women and the talks started. We were offered so much to eat and drink, it was heart warming. Initially we politely declined. We were asked to answer with a simple yes or no. Gauri asked 'If I came to your house would you accept me not even having a glass of water or tea? Would you let me leave just like that?' Our 'buts' started and she thundered 'just answer with a yes or a no - it's that simple'. We smiled and indulged in their hospitality. Growing up in India, having a 'proper' education, it's amazing how we are still so unaware of our own people and their ways of life.

There is a difference between a transgender and a Hijra. A Hijra is a part of a community - like a sufi Community or Parsi community. No one just becomes a Hijra just like that. They have Guru Ma's, they are each others solace, friends and family. If you see one in a sari or dressed as a woman, refer to her as she - not he, not it. Did you know they have to go through 3 years of psychological consultation and evaluation to be able to get permission to have the operation? Do you know they save a lot of their own hard earned money just to be able to have that operation? I'm sure you cannot imagine the pain of being trapped somewhere (in their case in a mans' body) when all you want to do is get out. I can fully understand them, I've been through that and it's not a fun feeling - you feel as if you're trapped in the tiniest jail cell, its walls are constantly drawing closer to you, you cannot breathe, you're choking, suffocating, screaming and yet all people around you do is laugh, instead of lending you a hand.

They are often abandoned by their families, shunned and mocked by society, raped, disrespected and considered unworthy of love. They are ridiculed for being true to themselves - here's my question, how many of us actually have the guts to see who we truly are, be who we want to be and not care about how difficult life will be and how much pain it will cause one mentally, emotionally and physically? We are conditioned by society and so if something or someone is different to societys' warped concept of normal, they are termed weird, crazy, mentally ill, f*cked up etc. Why do we fear individuality? Why do we fear things and people that are different? A lot of this can also be linked to procreation and Lord Brahma. I won't delve deeper into this, but reading and understanding Hindu Mythology and Indian history during the Mughal Empire will explain a lot and prove that all of this is and has been a part of our 'culture'.

These ladies were so polite, respectful, fluent in English, well educated and knowledgable about current affairs and laws. Despite everything they have gone through and still go through, they stood tall, smiled constantly and cracked us up as they spoke. They want to be accepted but aren't because of irrational fears, preconceived notions that are all man made. Sure, there are a few rotten apples, but don't we all have them in every community, in every family? That doesn't mean we judge them for it. And who the hell are we to judge anyway? What gives us the right? Our own self-made, self-superiority complexes?? I'll be honest, I don't like it when they touch me and threaten to curse me if I don't give them money, but then again how are they supposed to feed themselves, get medication etc? Who looks after them except their community? We give beggars, old and handicapped people money, but nothing to them because they are a nuisance. Why this discrimination? How often have you said/heard 'Oh shit, quickly roll up the windows, the Hijras are coming. We'll be safe behind the glass and if we turn up the music we won't hear their curses..' I'd just like to say, I've also met many Hijras that I've not paid, only spoken to nicely or smiled at and they've left me with a blessing. One of them even paid for my friends rickshaw fare when she fell short of cash.

It takes guts to commit to being a member of the Hijra family. Don't just think of the physical part. That's being narrow minded. Look at the commitment to a lifetime filled with hardship, discrimination, hate and injustice and still rising above it all, standing tall with a big heart and open smile. They have seen more life than most of us. They are souls of awareness. They have nothing more to lose and in that, they have their freedom and happiness. Something all of us crave, hardly any will achieve.

It was time to leave; we clicked pictures, got blessed by the Guru Ma and as they walked us out till the rickshaws, all I felt was an overwhelming sense of inspiration and strength. We were meant to make theirs a Happy Diwali,  instead they showered us with immense love and happiness, leaving us with good, positive and motivating energy.

We headed towards an 85 year old ladys' home next. Dipesh met her at his doctor. He's been helping her out whenever possible, bringing her clean sheets, sorting out her meals, her walking stick, cable connection etc. She's lonely, has no one to talk to, no family or friends left, her daughters have abandoned her and therefore is left with hurt, anger and her memories of a painful past. We picked up some juice, chocolate and oats for her.

Vatsala spoke in Marathi. Each time she spoke of her past we changed the topic, made up stories, each of us told her what we do for a living. She told Sapna to cut her hair the next time and made me sing for her. I knew just one Marathi song... just 2 lines of it. Everyone encouraged me to go for it regardless. Her face lit up and she sang with me. And then we sang it again, this time everyone joined in. She ate chocolate, drank juice which she refused to do before. She told us it felt nice to have us here, that when she's alone she only has memories, having Krishna (the only God she has ever believed in and calls Dipesh that) and his friends around keeps her mind occupied. When we walked in, she spoke of how much she wanted to die. As we left, she asked when we were coming back and where we could go to the next time, so she has a change of scene.

I couldn't get myself to write about this yesterday because it was so heavy, there was so much to just take in and absorb... I'm still reeling. Moments like these, days like these put life and my 'issues' into perspective. I have so much to be grateful for, how can I have the audacity to be sad, upset, crib and whine about my life?

We are all human beings at the end of the day. Not Hindu, Not Muslim, Not Jew, Not Christian, Not Hijra, Not Gay, Not Lesbian, Not Indian, Not Pakistani, Not Rich, Not Poor. None of these stupid religious and political divisions!!!! We are all one. We are all love. We are all from the same Source! We will all be reduced to ash and bones.

I leave you with something Gauri said that just hit me, touched me and will forever stay in my heart. She said it in Hindi, but I'll translate it into English. 'No matter how high up and successfully the kite may be flying in the air, fact is the thread and it's reel are always on the ground, right? And that's where it should stay, for we all know what happens to the kite once that thread gets cut. And that is life... you never know when the thread may get cut.'

Happy Diwali everyone... Stay enlightened and spread the light.









Independence from rape, 
Independence from gender bias, 
Independence from female foeticide, 
Independence from farmer suicides, 
Independence from acid attacks, 
Independence from environmental abuse, Independence from illiteracy,
Independence from poverty, Independence from racial hatred & religious bias,
Independence from bad roads & potholes,
Independence from corrupt leaders,
Independence from fearing freedom of speech,
Independence from bribery,
Independence from poaching, Independence from lies,
schemes and scams...

Oh India,

You truly are beautiful, your people have the sweetest smiles, warmest hearts... You have all the riches the world envies, breathtaking nature, heritage, culture, monuments, spirituality, arts, music
awe-inspiring diversity, colours, flavours...

Let us love our nation & give her, her forests, oceans, animals and each other the long overdue respect we deserve...

Lets support and give those who died for our Independence and those that serve us by risking their lives everyday for our safety, our borders, our cities the respect they deserve.

Lets be truly Independent, so we can each proudly say Bharat Mata ki Jai!!!


©RAMONA ARENA 2013
To all the flaky people in my life
This one is for you
You think I don’t know who you are
So sorry, but I didn’t get fooled.

For the times you did pretend
To be my friend
Taking as much as you could.
For the times you wished me ill
Secretly hoping
I’d fall to the ground as you stood.

For the hidden hopes
You harbored within
For me to give up and fail
For taking all you could
By sucking me dry
For your own entertainment and gain.

For all the lies you spread about me
Swearing to the world its true,
For all the gains you used me for
I still gave as I saw through.

I’m really not half as stupid or blind
As you like to believe is true
I choose to keep giving, hoping and forgiving
The insecurities that you’ve been reduced to.

I’ve obviously done something right in my life
To have made it so relevant to yours.
Thanks for your efforts, I’m way stronger now
May your life find real purpose, a true cause.


©RAMONA ARENA 2013
Holy Surprises!


As I walked up and down the narrow streets I knew so well, I found it comforting that not much seemed to have changed. I could describe Pushkar in one word - beautiful, but a whole bunch of words even, would not be able to describe the kind of calm and release it brings to my soul. I made my way down to one of the many Ghats. I walked along the lake and sat on the steps a little distance away from a Sadhu who seemed to be oblivious to the world around him.

I took in deep, long breaths; sat and sat and sat... I started to think about how this trip to Rajasthan worked out, how everything had been falling into place - almost like it was something that had been pre planned - destined. I slipped in and out of my past: how much I have been through in my life, how I've managed to survive these past few years especially. I was amazed and almost proud of my own strength. Sure I've broken down, bawled for days on end, whined even to a few close friends who sat patiently and listened, prayed to a God or anybody out there. I thought of the people that today are in my heart, of how much I have to be grateful for despite everything. Thoughts then shifted to the future: what I am doing with my life, what is left for me to do, how am I going to support myself, what do I truly want out of life, will I ever have a family of my own, will I be a workaholic... I had no answers.

I decided to go to the Brahma Temple. It's the only one in the world. Walking there I got stopped by 2 women - sisters with a sweet little baby boy Ronak. He was all smiles and just reached out for me. I took him into my arms and he held my cheek, looking at me. He was adorable and I was in love. This little child was so at home with me, you'd never think this was the first time we met. Some twenty minutes later, his mom had to leave. He held on to my finger super tight, which he only let go off once I handed him my chocolate. I clicked a picture of them and carried on towards the Brahma Temple.

Tons of little shops before the Temple sell you baskets of offerings, you can chose if you want to spend Rs.50 or Rs.100 on them. I told the guy to give me one for Rs.100. I was also told I had to leave my slippers and bags with them in one of their wooden boxes with locks. So I did, armed with a key and my basket of offerings I walked up the stairs, amidst tons of people that seemed to have come out of nowhere.

There was a long horizontal queue (as is the norm in India). The priest looked like a slightly irritable robot, mechanically taking baskets of offerings, sorting out what stayed by the idol and did it at the speed of light. I had time to observe him since everyone just kept on butting in and breaking the 'queue'. Never did he stop - not to wipe the sweat off his forehead, nor to look up at anyone, let alone speak to anyone.  My turn finally came and he took my basket exactly like did with everyone else, except whilst handing it back, he stopped. He held it in his hand, looked at me and told me somethings. I was taken aback because 1. he spoke 2. the nature of the things he said. We had an exchange of dialogue as I didn't quite understand what I was meant to do with the instructions he gave me. Despite people pushing and shoving their offerings towards him, I felt and heard nothing... it was almost as if time had stopped and it was just him and me there. He finally said to me 'I had to give you this message is all I know, how you want to interpret it and what you do with it is not my problem, I've done what I was meant to, now you do whatever you want to'. With that he shoved my basket back into my hands, head down again and was back in robot mode. I was still in shock and kept looking at him to see if he did this with anyone else. He didn't. I later asked a friend who is a local and she too was most surprised saying in all her years, she's never seen him speak to anyone, never to her either.

I headed back to the Ghats. I saw a staircase - very dirty, broken that looked like it hadn't been used in years. No one seemed to be going up there. But something inside me kept gnawing at me to climb. To my surprise, it was a beautiful marble Temple - protected by the Government of India. As children next door were reciting shlokas and chanting I thought to myself - why can't they maintain anything in this country, especially something that is protected? It's so pretty, has such a serene & positive vibe, it's a shame people don't even know of this spot. But then, on second thought it's probably better this way, tucked away and still stays serenely sacred.

My friends' cousin called. She had arrived and was driving to Pushkar to meet me, have dinner with me and then take me back to her home in Ajmer. She asked me to meet her at one of Pushkars' sweetest spots - Sunset Cafe. We met, hit it off instantly and after enjoying one of the most beautiful sunsets of my life, walked the streets of Pushkar by night. She got me to taste my first malpuas (great for my palette, a catastrophe for my thighs). She then told me she had a surprise for me, said it was from my past but refused to tell me anymore.

Soon we were following a car, driving through some bumpy narrow roads in darkness broken by the cars' headlights. We got into a very pretty resort and from the car ahead of us, emerged a friend I hadn't seen or met in 17 years!! I couldn't believe it! It just so happened that he called her to ask what she was upto in the evening and she said she was looking after a friend of her cousin (who was also a part of the same group 17 years ago). She mentioned Ramona, he put two and two together and told her not to say a word, he'd surprise me. And boy did he! It turned out to be such an amazing dinner, we laughed, reminisced, reminded each other of stories, moments, people, caught up on who's doing what in life now...

I love it when life brings positive unexpected surprises my way. As my head touched the pillow that night, all I could feel was gratitude throbbing through every single vein in me. So much gratitude for this day, for this trip, for these people... I came to Pushkar alone, I left with 2 friends - one old, one new.

Now you know why I call Pushkar my magic place... OM!!!    :)


The Vishnu Temple
Sugar, grains, coconuts....
Sadhu on the steps 
The sweet ladies and the adorable Ronak with the 5 star bar in his hand.
Har Har Mahadev.
Beautiful Protected Heritage Temple I accidentally stumbled upon.
Be.
Meditate.
Contemplate.
The view from Sunset Cafe...
Magic...
Om Bhur Bhuva Svaha, Tat Savitur Varenyam, Bhargo Devasya Dhee Mahi, Dheyo Yona Prachodayat.
Gotta love Kikasso
Colorful women in pardah shopping for jewelry
The Maker...
His Mmmmm Creation... Fresh hot sugary Malpuas