This conversation here reminded me of this first post i had written, it is one of the posts that is most regularly read for some odd reason, readers use the tag ‘dark indian girl’ to reach here, i wonder about it sometimes .

Valli’s Beauty

Not the Tamil God’s tribal consort, but just someone known to me. Valli, husband and young son arrived in Bangalore as migrants. What they sought? What they got? Interesting line of inquiry, but, here, I want only to share few stories that I heard from Valli.

Valli did not land in the usual receptacles meant for poor villagers fleeing drought and other nasties, i.e, the sprawling slums of Bangalore city. Instead, she got housing within the grounds of a regal bungalow owned by an elite Anglo-Indian family, thanks to husband’s green fingers. He was hired as the resident gardener. Valli, got into the bungalow routine. Thus, knew the tea-making, serving and other genteel stuff.

Valli as I remember her then, was in her late thirties, around 5′2, very dark skinned, not the blotchy kind, but the uniform shade, with even facial features. She wore thick rimmed glasses, giving her the appearance of a stern professor with an exotic hairstyle. Wish I could draw, for describing that style is difficult. Hair was tucked in a way that had the ends of her tresses framed around her head in a fan shaped arrangement. Her gait was proud and erect. Her form was slender.

Death of the aging patrons, brought Valli and family to the slums. A reluctant Valli started as housemaid and baby sitter to families in the neighborhood. She gained the reputation of being a loyal but fastidious worker. In the meantime, the extended family from the village kept coming into the city, in a steady stream. As the drought did not go away, the elections always got over, with it, promises of better rural life, while other nasties just got nastier. Valli kept track of the in coming clan members, doing her best to keep the men from succumbing to alcohol, and women from prostitution.

Valli and husband, could never do enough for their only son. The story of her becoming a mother after many years of marriage, was recounted in great detail, every moment of motherhood was magnified for Valli. Poor eyesight had always plagued her. She would tear up while recalling near total blindness, for the first three years of her son’s life. The way she traced her baby’s features and kept him safe from danger, always transfixed her listeners. Herbal medicines and glasses helped her regain her sight to some extent.

When it was time to find a bride for the beloved son, Valli was teased by other women, where will you find the perfect girl? Are you going to find him a fair one? No, was the prompt reply. “Amman pola”, meaning dark like the village goddess, she said. She was dead serious and would explain in her clear voice, that in her community pale skinned girls were not sought after. Beauty is dark. Period.

Take home messages for me from Valli’s anecdotes came in handy at different points.

It took me a long time to realize that girls like me in School were not part of any cultural activities (read on-stage), not because we lacked grace in our movements, or articulation in our voices, but simply because we had little too much melanin. Did not do too much harm to my psyche, though (I am dark and thick skinned, I guess).

A sometime Sunday activity by girls in my hostel, was reading aloud the Hindu matrimonial ads, each girl would pick her community section and read it out, to the sneering rest. We concluded, here within the pages of Hindu matrimonial ads was the sign that Indians were indeed unified. No matter what caste, profession, age, or whatever, they all sought a FAIR girl.

As I follow arguments all over the world about objectifying women’s bodies and its effects, the manner in which Valli objectified, her would be daughter-in-law, always amuses me. For the sheer counterpoint it brings to the prevailing notion of a Nation obsessed with light skin. Then again, Valli spoke about her community, probably there are more Indians out there who are not terrified of the ‘pigment’. Just that their voices are not in all the noise that gets heard.

Attended the book reading of ‘Mathematics of sex’.

 The book ought to be valuable for all interested in the gender question though the data is specific to the US, issues dealt within it should be relevant anywhere. Definitely contains lots of thinking material for parents with girls.

The review goes something like this: 

Nearly half of all physicians and biologists are females, as are the
majority of new psychologists, veterinarians, and dentists, suggesting that
women have achieved equality with men in the workforce. But the ranks of
professionals in math-intensive careers remain lopsidedly male; up to 93%
of tenure-track academic positions in some of the most
mathematically-oriented fields are held by men.

Three main explanations have been advanced to explain the dearth of women
in math-intensive careers, and in The Mathematics of Sex, Stephen J. Ceci
and Wendy M. Williams describe and dissect the evidence for each. The first
explanation involves innate ability--male brains are physiologically
optimized to perform advanced mathematical and spatial operations; the
second is that social and cultural biases inhibit females' training and
success in mathematical fields; the third alleges that women are less
interested in math-intensive careers than are men, preferring
people-oriented pursuits. Drawing on research in endocrinology, economics,
sociology, education, genetics, and psychology to arrive at their own
unique, evidence-based conclusion, the authors argue that the problem is
due to certain choices that women (but not men) are compelled to make in
our society; that women tend not to favor math-intensive careers for
certain reasons, and that sex differences in math and spatial ability
cannot adequately explain the scarcity of women in these fields. The
Mathematics of Sex represents the first time such a thorough synthesis of
data has been carried out to solve the puzzle of women's
underrepresentation in math-intensive careers.

------

Here, I am trying to put down the highlights of the more interesting part of the reading -the Q and A session with authors Stephen and Wendy. 

Audience: Maybe two men and many women and girls who don’t need a book or statistics to tell them what they live through as most came from math intensive departments. They were there to confirm or contest the major observations in the book.

Wendy: It is a non issue with lopsided numbers in any area as long as it was because women made an informed decision about not being in those careers, however it has to be analyzed and rectified if the numbers reflect some unconscious and conscious biases towards making and sticking it out with these careers.

Stephen emphasized that girls were better or equal mathematicians right through school, and the first drop  in numbers begins in the choice they make for undergraduate courses, the ones who persist and opt for math intensive graduate courses continue performing just as well as the boys. After Ph.D, females are still on par with their male colleagues in job placements, renumeration, publishing, advancements etc. However, in their thirties a major bleeding out of females from math intensive careers happens.

Wendy took over to say, the need for having a family  and unwillingness to relegate childrearing to third party (nannies) is one of the big reasons for this age/stage specific drop out. Analyzing this it is evident that women cannot postpone their decision to bear children if they want to avoid infertility issues with older age. However, this period also critically co-incides with the time when high productivity is expected of young faculty and women take the drastic decision to drop out of careers that they had invested and excelled in all along. Usually never to get back to the system.

Is this an individual loss or loss to the country? The country has invested equally heavily in the training of these women and just when they are about to make a contribution, they reach this impasse. The female attrition is a big loss to the country just as it is to the personal.

Responses that I recall which were interesting, amusing and insightful:

1) A girl from math dept: is there data to show fall in female representation as one goes higher in heiarchy of elite institutes? if the usual explanations don’t account for this, would it indicate sexism is more prevalent in these places?

Others from the same dept : “Of course !”

2) What about non math-intensive careers, why is there no drastic fall there, the biology and early to mid-career demands for high productivity must exist for say law? How have the women overcome this?

Authors answer: Those careers are equally demanding and one does see a fall in the highest levels and few women make it partners, yet such jobs seem to be a little more friendlier to decisions of family and work. And Wendy wondered if it has also to do with female preference for careers that provide an interface with people, making it bearable to hang on in tough times, unlike  math-intensive careers which can be isolating. 

(I found the answers unsatisfactory. None of this explains 93%  male domination.)

3) Another student from math dept, detailed how she started to see fewer and fewer females as she went into higher levels. And contested the data in the book that there were equal number of females at the graduate level. She said in her experience she found herself usually among the very few or sometimes the only one.

Response from a much older faculty: “Looks like little has changed from my time ” to the younger women’s chuckling and sound of weary laughter at all these revelations!!

4) A male student: How come motherhood becomes so important that women take such decisions, the man is the parent too, why does he not have the same response?

Authors: It is changing to some extent.

A mother of 1 year old: “Have to run to pick up my baby (it was after 5.30pm), but want to say my bit, something happens post childbirth, maybe hormones or something that clicks into the mother not the father.” 

Student to this:” Really? Interesting! what hormones does one need to clean the bathroom?”

Wendy: When women give up the decision to have families/children then they are exactly like their male colleagues, so none of theories on brain apititute, biases etc are needed.

5) Question: In the 6% of women who have managed to remain in their careers and reach the top positions, is there data on how many of them chose not to have families and how many have families?

Authors: No clear data, but most of these women are non American, immigrants from European countries, where math ed. is always a push. So, once identified as good in math, the entire system gets them to focus only to enhance their aptitude in it.

Response to this: How does that explain the US having lower numbers of women excelling in math?

Wendy: That is a paradox, one would expect women from more patriarchal societies (Turkey), with lesser freedom to make choices would lead to them not taking up math-intensive careers but the data shows otherwise. One wonders if when presented with choice, women inherently choose what is more satisfying of their need to be in non-isolating careers? 

Indicators of solutions (from random reading over the years):

Studying department structures and cultures-

Departmental attrition data from one state show that the difference between male and female rates of undergraduate attrition from computer science varies by institution. This analysis suggests that departmental factors are important in attrition from CS. Some CS departments inhibit female persistence at the undergraduate level while other departments promote persistence. The observed variation encourages research that compares departmental characteristics such as structure and culture, and relates them to departmental outcomes. Shifting the research focus to departmental characteristics and outcomes will identify effective methods for retaining women.

By taking a hard look at work-family policies-

Employee Assistance Plans, dependent care flexible spending accounts, and emergency child care are associated with increases in the percentage of associates who are female.  Second, these policies are linked to reductions in the turnover rates of associates.  This, combined with the first finding, indicates that work-family policies help retain female employees. Overall, these findings suggest that firm provision of work-family policies can play an important role in retaining female employees without hurting firm profitability. 

Additional useful material is here

I wrote a post for Pavada about Sant Janabai. This however is not Janabai’s portrait . I just like it. 

I didn’t find many images of this Maharashtrain poet from the 13th century. But a few translations of her abhangs are available online, this is how i read her now, quite sure it will change as time goes by and i hope to find some more reference material on her, a few though are heading my way from inter library loans. Here is one of her reprimands to God for neglecting her:

O you Vithya Vithya

nasty brat of the original illusion,

your widow has become a whore

and wears bangles of Savitri,

your corpse has been carried away,

seeing it, even death cries.

standing in her courtyard

Jani curses you!

Elsewhere she tells him:

O God I have lost your love

and will not serve you again

there is nothing special about you

your vanity turns me away.

why should I fear your anger?

your strength depends on me.

—-

Source: Janabai and Kanhopatra: A study of two women sants. Sarah Sellergen.

Images of Maharashtrian women in literature and religion. Anne Feldhaus.

“The most widespread, pernicious and intractable form of discrimination on EARTH”. Pay attention to the very last bit on religion. Every word is worth its weight in gold, or may be platinum.

(i listened to this short speech the second time with my eyes closed, the two ladies are beautifully distracting )

While reading this if there are some kannada speaking ones, please let me know what you think of this vacana. I love listening to it, but cannot fathom it at all. 

This one below is a lot easier.

—–

Lord, if you will listen, listen;


If you won’t, don’t—


I can’t bear to live without singing of you.


If you will look, look;


If you won’t, don’t—


I can’t bear life unless I look at you and be happy.


If you will agree, agree;


If you won’t, don’t—

I can’t bear life unless I embrace you.


If you will be pleased, be pleased,


If you won’t, don’t—


I can’t bear life unless I worship you.


O Channamallikarjuna, jasmine-tender,


Offering you worship, I will play


On the swing of happiness.       [Chaitanya, p. 33]  (This sounds like this in kannada.)

—–

So simple to translate, or is it? I have two colleagues taking a go at it, one in Spanish and the other in Hebrew for Pavada, both believe that they will be able to do a fairly good job of it. I am very curious though to know how they read and interpret it. Of course like me their grounding is biology, so God, worship etc is hmmmm. But Akkamahadevi’s vacanas is not godliness as much as spiritual in content. Which I am using as a start of sorts to understand how Indian women perceive their bodies and all that it entails, my first attempt is here on Pavada blog. If you are wondering what it has to do with this blog? The dalit world, is all about control of the mind via control over our bodies by the oppressor, be it  in labor exploitation -mostly manual comprising both genders or in sexual exploitation -largely women. For long I believed that scientific/biological awareness of the body would help in  loosening the tightly wound coils of physical and hence psychological oppression. But then if the educated women (all castes/classes) knew the biological significance of menstruation, would they still be having notions of impurity associated with it? The body can be explained through biology, but it will still clash with the inherited understanding of the body, that we receive from our cultural-historical milieu. It leads to what we do so well, partition our brains into modern and pre-modern/ logical and illogical selfs. So an attempt to understand the other non biological bodies in our heads is necessary, at least to me.

Source: Songs for Shiva. Vacanas of Akka Mahadevi. Translated by Vinaya Chaitanya.

Videos: Youtube.

I want to say, FINALLY! but i think i’ll wait. But i’ll definitely say, Yeah, to Nepal. One small Hindu nation country has the moral courage to acknowledge this ancient but persisting atrocity. 

——-

Manoj Mitta, TNN 28 September 2009

NEW DELHI: If the recent genome study denying the Aryan-Dravidian divide has established the antiquity of caste segregations in marriage, the ongoing session of the UN Human Rights Council in Geneva looks set to recognize caste-based discrimination as a human rights violation. This, despite India’s opposition and following Nepal’s breaking ranks on the culturally sensitive issue.

Nepal has emerged as the first country from South Asia — the region where untouchability has been traditionally practiced — to declare support for the draft principles and guidelines published by UNHRC four months ago for “effective elimination of discrimination based on work and descent” — the UN terminology for caste inequities.

In a side-event to the session on September 16, Nepalese minister Jeet Bahadur Darjee Gautam said his county welcomed the idea mooted by the UNHRC document to involve “regional and international mechanism, the UN and its organs” to complement national efforts to combat caste discrimination. This is radically different from India’s stated aversion to the internationalization of the caste problem.

Much to India’s embarrassment, Nepal’s statement evoked an immediate endorsement from the office of the UN high commissioner for human rights, Navanethem Pillay, a South African Tamil. Besides calling Nepal’s support “a significant step by a country grappling with this entrenched problem itself”, Pillay’s office said it would “like to encourage other states to follow this commendable example”.

The reference to India was unmistakable especially since Pillay had pressed the issue during her visit to New Delhi in March. Pillay not only asked India to address “its own challenges nationally, but show leadership in combating caste-based discrimination globally”. The granddaughter of an indentured labourer taken to South Africa from a village near Madurai, Pillay recalled that in 2006, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh had compared untouchability to apartheid. Adding to India’s discomfiture, Sweden, in its capacity as the president of the Europeon Union, said, “caste-based discrimination and other forms of discrimination based on work and descent is an important priority for EU”. If this issue continues to gather momentum, UNHRC may in a future session adopt the draft principles and guidelines and, to impart greater legal force, send them for adoption to the UN General Assembly.

The draft principles specifically cited caste as one of the grounds on which more than 200 million people in the world suffer discrimination. “This type of discrimination is typically associated with the notion of purity and pollution and practices of untouchability, and is deeply rooted in societies and cultures where this discrimination is practiced,” it said.

Though India succeeded in its efforts to keep caste out of the resolution adopted by the 2001 Durban conference on racism, the issue has since re-emerged in a different guise, without getting drawn into the debate over where caste and race are analogous.

In the early days of this blog, sometime last year, CF in one of the comments here had discussed having a blog that focussed on Indian translations that are not easily available. The discussion then was in  a political context, where he had translated a news report for this blog. But time went by, and last week he asked me to write a piece for the new blog, he named Pavada. I sat on it, but it is really up and there is one Urdu translation of Ghalib’s poem and another one that I have to back and read again, it is by the Telugu poet, Sri Sri’s, Jayabheri, please go read. I finished my attempt at, not a translation but trying to understand some of them -I’ve never been good with languages, but would like to think that I have a good ear for songs. He has an open invitation for bloggers and friends who are interested in this kind of writing to send in articles. Way to go!!

A rape incident in Beed district of Maharashtra brought some of us together to look into caste-based atrocities, particularly against dalit women, in this State. Many public meetings later, it was decided that a letter expressing our concerns and articulating our demands be sent to relevant government authorities in the State and the Centre as well as various commissions and the media.

Following is the letter, which has been passed in the GBM held on Saturday. Please do sign up for it on the posters that have been put up near both the dining halls and the new campus canteen.

Respected Madam/Sir,

Lastly, the State must explore initiatives to encourage collective action among Dalit women for their empowerment and to provide them a safe environment. We would like to add, that we intend to follow the proceedings of this case closely and will be awaiting an urgent response from you, to decide on further action. We hope that the above demands are considered at the earliest so that the confidence of Dalits and the general public in the State is restored.

The world for me is split into the lords above and the pests below. The older sibling and their friends ignore me –the ignorers/lords. The younger siblings and their friends think I am a push over –the pushers/pests. I never asked to be a middle born, or even born at all. But such is my sandwiched life.

Left home to do research with the hope that the world would order itself in some other way, no such luck. I landed in the research scholars (RS) wing with senior researchers and a crowd of PG students accommodated there for lack of space in their hostel. The venerable RSs ignored and the pesky PGs began their pushing me around right away.

One decided that I was spending most of the time in the lab; it was better use of space –my single room- for her to study in. Key was dutifully handed. In the mess, my share of ‘perugu’ was given to the one standing behind me in the line, which would lead someone else to loudly draw attention to the atypical Tamilian. And the dining table would light up with animated discussion of the Tamils eating habits -relished by gults and all. Since there was always someone new at the table, I would be asked to explain my strangeness; an occasional “you will die in the Hyderabad heat without buttermilk” advice would be kindly given. Of course it was my moral obligation to pay for street food, dhaba or any other food that we all occasionally ate outside the campus, for I was the only one with a fellowship.

I did all this with natural practiced ease, good training at home, you see. But one little incident pushed the pushers one notch higher in peskiness.  One fine day, I was informed that I had been volunteered to be the exam scribe for one of her sight-challenged classmates. Date and timing was given. “Its simple, just get permission from your supervisor” I was ordered.

The exam was history. Chapters: renaissance and reformation. Now, the last time I’d looked at a history book was way back in 10 std and I schooled in state syllabus, which actually does not recognize the World or that it has some history. When I tried to get this fact in, I was talked down, “you have to write what he says, you, don’t need to know anything.” 

Permission was got. We were introduced and I again made attempts to say that history was a strange subject for me, he nodded and was saying something, when I realized, he was only talking in Telugu. The PG introducer had disappeared from the line of vision. The urge to flee the situation took firm grip on me. He was going to recount renaissance in Telugu and I was to translate it into English, in two hours, under vigilance? No way. Determined hunting resulted in me being told “too late we cannot find another scribe for him, it is history, the words are all in English, you can construct the sentences, how tough can that be?

Two days prior to the exam date, I had a visitor, which in ladies hostel means, opposite gender (females just walk into your room), males have to wait outside and a messenger will herald this to the whole female world. For reasons that are not clear to me yet, I had very few ‘visitors’ (the telugu guys must have thought ugh, one more from across the border, the tamils must have thought, ‘no eat curd rice, she no interesting’ I think they all thought I was weird) anyway, back to my visitor.

It was him. He looked very sad and tired. Concerned english-telugu combo questions, got me the gist that, he was suffering from fever – I tried to frame the sentence “but you walked all the way from men’s hostel to the ladies hostel” –it is far (logistics of don’t know what, but they were really located at two different ends). He then handed me a small pile of books. “Don’t you need it?” I asked. Received a negative nod, adding that for him, next two days was only “breadu and bedu” and walked away, forlornly.

Then the middle world metamorphosed. The lords glared their “don’t you dare flunk a PG exam.” The pest’s glee went up festive levels “ the scholar in my tenuously given RS title was on display, imminent disgrace awaited, definite proof that only the sorriest of PG’s opted to be RS.” Beyond all this, I stood at the other side of the great divide. I researched science -a knob turner, and they the true scholars.

Helpful tidbits in the common spaces (bathroom, dining hall, corridors) were sent in my direction, like “you cannot mug historical facts, imagination is needed, try to step into the shoes of the past actors.” Incidentally, the past actors were large white masses of flesh, often shoeless, spreads in the pages of books that had suddenly grown into a large pile.

Survival instincts kicked in and I kicked the door shut to the wing mates and did what I do best with exams. Cram. Surprise awaited me. I actually started to enjoy the deliciousness of that period. On the day of the exam we were seated in a beautifully decorated Prof’s room. And I wrote with moderated enthusiasm. The last warning in the hostel was still ringing in my ears “don’t get him in trouble by getting him high marks” and remembering to nudge the happily dreaming examinee to keep talking, now and then. The invigilator did not hound us, but would definitely wonder at what got written in total silence. 

He/I passed the exam. He made few more ‘visitor’ visits to get my signature on forms, as the Univ. admin did not take kindly to my asking him to donate my scribe ‘fees’ to the blind association. The rest of my short stay, I’d see him occasionally and to his “Hello, anu” ” from several yards before I stopped my bike, I’d always ask the idiot question “how did you know it was me?”  He’d respond with a grin “of course, I know it is you”. I have a vague idea of where some of the lords and pests are now, I think about them sometime, about him too. His name was Govind. I never worry about how he is. Of course he is doing fine. He just had it in him.

Image courtesy : Internet.

I recall a November day, he was not six months old and the master came into the shack…..

And this man was speculating over my son’s cradle, a slavedriver’s cradle.

MOTHER

Alas you will die.

REBEL

Killed….. I killed him with my own hands……

Yes, a fecund and copious death…….

It was night. We crawled through the sugarcane.

The cutlasses were chortling at the stars, but we didn’t care about the stars.

The cane slashed our faces with streams of green blades.

MOTHER

I had dreamed of a son who would close his mother’s eyes.

REBEL

I chose to open my child’s eyes to another sun.

MOTHER

……O my son…… an evil and pernicious death.

REBEL

Mother, a verdant and sumptuous death.

MOTHER

From too much hate.

REBEL

From too much love.

Spare me, I’m choking from your shackles, bleeding from your wounds.

REBEL

And the world does not spare me…… There is not in the world one single lynched bastard, one poor tortured man, in whom I am not also murdered and humiliated.

MOTHER

God in Heaven, deliver him!

REBEL

My heart, you will not deliver me of my memories……

It was a November night……

And suddenly clamors lit up the silence,

we had leapt, we the slaves, we the manure, we the beasts with patient hooves.

We were running like lunatics, fiery shots broke out……… We were striking. Sweat and blood cooled us off. We were striking amidst the screams and the screams became more strident and a great clamor rose toward the east, the outbuildings were burning and the flames sweetly splashed our cheeks.

Then came the attack on the master’s house.

They were shooting from the windows.

We forced the doors.

The master’s bedroom was wide open. The Master’s bedroom was brilliantly lit, and the master was there, very calm…… and all of us stopped….. he was the master……. I entered. It’s you, he said, very calmly…… Its me, it was indeed me, I told him, the good slave, the faithful slave, the slave slave, and suddenly my eyes were two cockroaches frightened on a rainy day…….. I struck, the blood spurted, it is the only baptism that today I remember.

———

Source: Lyric And Dramatic Poetry. by Aime Cesaire.

Translated by Clayton Eshelman & Annette Gail Smith

Dedicated to Raj Kumar’s Mother