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Smita Moon

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** 2018 Relaunch Edit: This was originally the second part of a post I wrote in the wake of “yet another gang rape in India” and has been edited to be a rant at all the things – off the top of mind – that comes to mind when it comes to things that I believe need to change in the motherland, aka India. Please know that me saying this re: India is not somehow negating the complete shitshow effery that abounds in America (my level of shame for my country right now – & under its current leadership especially – is immeasurable).

In India, basically EVERYTHING needs to change, & I am sorry (not actually sorry), but I have very little hope for the motherland, because when you have that many people all subscribing to a culture that is so deeply entrenched in devaluing women, it would require a Gandhi-esque movement to really change things. The sad thing is that back then everyone “saw themselves” in Gandhi when it came to being oppressed by the British, but they are unable to do the same when it comes to the social condition of women. Anywho, where to start…?

Ermm… in no particular order…

Okay, the dowry system for example is a great place to start; sure, technically, it is illegal per the Dowry Prohibition Act in 1961, but matrimonial ads still allow parents to list how much they are willing to “spend in a wedding” (read: spend on a wedding AND give in dowry), every dating website and ad still lets you list your caste as if that has some real meaning or relevance and wives are still killed by their in-laws or husbands due to failing to pay an acceptable dowry …

Then there’s the fairness cream craze which needs to be completely eradicated, because it perpetuates the idea that women especially do not have value beyond how they appear to men (because let’s keep it real, the only reason anyone cares about being fair is so they can qualify themselves as “fair” vs. “wheatish” or the even more dreaded “dark” in a matrimonial ad and because they know this one quality is desired more than any other)….

& do not even get me started on Bollywood movies… I am a huge “Bollywood fan,” but in a society where a child living in a slum is more likely to know Shahrukh Khan than the Prime Minister of India, Bollywood is by far the #1 influencer of the social condition in India. Therefore, Bollywood movies need to stop teaching men that, as SA Aiyar puts in this great article on the topic, “if only you harass a woman enough, no matter how often she says no, she will ultimately say yes.”

Seriously, I have heard this from so many girls in India that this is the modus operandi of many – if not most – men in India… to annoy, pester, show up, write love poems, stalk on Facebook, SMS incessantly… all in attempt to “win” the heart of the one they desire. Speaking of Bollywood, the item girl concept also needs to go away. Believe me, I like – actually love – “item girl” songs for their catchy beats and awesome dance moves, but the fact that Bollywood’s leading ladies are okay being called an “item” (an object to be looked at, possessed, had) and most item girl songs involve very “exposed” women thumping their chests and doing pelvic thrusts as men seemingly no different than animals paw at and grope them, well… I will let you figure out the correlation between them and rape culture.

More than anything else, Indian women need to get their minds right. The female foeticide issue is not one in which only domineering husbands are having their wives abort their female babies (note: ultrasounds to determine the sex of a child are prohibited in India but there is a huge black market for them); women are equal – if not near equal – participants in this. Women themselves value male children far more than female children; the latter are celebrated, special prayers are done and gifts distributed in celebration of them, and mothers literally worship their male children, but female children are not celebrated, valued or treated in the same way. Instead, more often than not, they are treated like second-rate citizens – subhumans – who are a “burden” to their families.

Another thing when it comes to Indian women, PLEASE (for the love of God) STOP WORSHIPPING MEN. Seriously, what the bleep?! From young girls fasting for “good husbands” (uh, have you ever seen a man fast for a good wife??), to the one-sided festivals of Raksha Bandhan (sisters pray for blessings for their brother and brothers promise to keep sisters safe perpetuating that girls cannot protect themselves) and Karva Chauth (where women fast from sunrise to moonrise for the safety and longevity of their husbands) to women wearing white (leading a colorless unadorned life) after their husband’s passing, Indian women are the primary contributors to the perpetuation of misogyny in our culture. Traditions and festivals are great – I am personally a huge fan – but certain traditions either need to stop entirely or evolve; for example, sati – when a widow would immolate herself on her husband’s funeral pyre – was also a “tradition,” but thank goodness we actually got rid of that one!

Lastly, to all Indian people in general (as well as anyone from any other culture that partakes in this unfortunate mentality), please stop giving your daughters the incredible burden of being the “izzat” (honor) of your family. Indian daughters who are raped or are no longer able to tolerate the abuse from their husbands commit suicide or are killed by their own families – in lieu of “bringing shame to the family” – because of this outrageous expectation and it HAS. TO. STOP. NOW. Yesterday actually, but now will do just fine.

I know a lot of people will be furious at me for portraying our culture in such a negative way, and although this disclaimer should have perhaps come at the beginning of my ranting, I have insane amounts of pride for the motherland. I have been obsessed with India since I was a little girl, visit often – I even attempted to settle their permanently – and I always talk about my “mis-janam” (mis-birth – both made up words by yours truly) being born in America instead of India, because there is so much I am enamored with. There are infinite things that are beautiful, wonderful and exceptional about Indian culture; however, this post was written because another one of our own “daughter/sisters” (something I have come to realize most people like to say but really do not mean) was brutally raped just 8 months after the same was done to another daughter/sister.

In light of that, I hope you can forgive me for what I said because I do not ever want to fear visiting India (I have traveled the country alone much to the dismay and horror of my family) nor do I ever want to advise my nieces or future daughter(s) to not do as I have done, because it is “unsafe” to visit India.

On that note &, as always, thanks for reading,

* THANK YOU FOR VISITING MY NEW BLOG SITE!! *

If you randomly ended up here and are not quite sure what my blog is all about, please kindly click on ABOUT to find out about the blog’s history and future… 

So… about me…?

Hi, this is me (in a rare put together look)

Hmm. Now that you have a face to my name, I guess I will share why it is that you are reading this today. Whether it is (was, as this is not a particular interest of mine anymore) South Asian Dating, social issues, “controversial” topics, and everything in between, I am someone who has never been able to NOT speak my mind. Read: it is basically an affliction. You know the thing that everyone is thinking or feeling but feels afraid/hesitant/nervous/awkward to say out loud? Well, I will always say it, & I suppose this is – if I am allowed to say so myself – revolutionary (while also being deeply offensive and loathed) for being a South Asian woman in particular.

I say that because women, in general, are expected to be pleasing and agreeable and our being (perceived as) antagonistic, “contentious,” or having any disapproval or (horrors) rage is dismissed and not tolerated, so… next level that times one hundred as a South Asian woman born to immigrant parents in 1979.

I have had quite a journey during this thing called life – and continue to – and, at my heart, I am someone who loves to share what I love (particularly positive experiences and things that have made my life better) while, every now and then, how I feel about various topics. I have been writing since as long as I can remember, but I am uncertain what warrants me being able to call myself a writer (I mean, is it a published book? Is it a bazillion likes and a fan following? Validation from another writer?). I do, however, know that *real writers* – like the ones who reached out to me with unsolicited advice when my first blog was blowing up – feel that I could be an “even better writer” if I “just used fewer side thoughts” (parentheses and dashes are LIFE because I, legit, think and speak in real life this way), better grammar, fewer run-on sentences, and less made up words. Noted, but, with all due respect, I also completely do not care.

I have never written to be validated by anyone or for the praise of the masses; at the end of the day, my first blog got me as much scorn as praise, but, hey, people were reading and talking about it, and making people think – ideally, challenging their thinking with a (perhaps naive) hope of helping to evolve thinking/beliefs/behavior/outcomes – is what I am all about.

As long as I can remember, I have been the kind of person who can’t just stay quiet when I see something wrong (or even really right) happening, and I have always believed that sometimes – even when it is socially unacceptable, likely to get you ostracized, or have negative consequences (as I was often advised writing Blog 1.0 would – i.e. – “No one will date you. Ever.) – you have to do what feels right and that you should never stop trying to make a difference even if you are going at it alone.

Nothing taught me that lesson more than “the events of 2012” (see About), and I will share more about what transpired and the aftermath as we get to know one another.

Other than that, I am a pretty simple person. I love to be a goofball and am a comedienne in my own mind. I have spoken publicly on various occasions and aspire to be a (legit) public speaker; one of my life’s bucket list goals is to do a Ted Talk one day. I am an extrovert-turned-introvert-turned-ambivert (more on that later, I am sure). I wear my heart on my sleeve and am known to cry over #allthethings (happy things, sad things, & other things). I LOVE love and children and – although I have no desire to be in a relationship or procreate at present writing, &, yes, I do know my “biological clock is ticking” – could not be bothered to care. I am overly attached in a totes dysfunctional and co-dependent way to my parents, and I am a doting aunt (my nephew and niece call me “Bhua” which means “dad’s sister” in Hindi) to the loves of my life.

That is me in a nutshell, and I look forward to sharing more of myself and what I love with all of you.

Thank you for stopping by,

So, it is official.  Aamir Khan inspires me to write in my blog.  It was due to him – specifically his show Satyamev Jayate – that I wrote in my blog after 7 months in 2012 (a year – as most people who know me know – was the absolute worst year of my life), and although (from what I understand), he did not direct/produce this film, there is something about him and the work he does that inspires me (this time, to write in my blog for the first time in 15 months) and makes me want to share my personal truth.

& I want to be very clear about that:  this post is about MY personal truth, and my sharing these words in a public forum is not an imposition or me dismissing anyone else’s personal truth – no matter how much what I believe opposes/contradicts what anyone else believes.

I am making that disclaimer because 1) That’s really my approach about all things.  I am not here to say that what I believe is right and what anyone else believes is wrong, but – as with everything I talk about – I share what I believe based on my life experiences and the lens through which I see the world.  2)  This post is about religion, which is quite possibly the most polarizing and “controversial” thing to talk about, but here I am, being my “crazy controversial” self (said with dripping sarcasm, because I truly think that most of what I say isn’t controversial at all – unless equality and treating people fairly is controversial – but what simply feels controversial to far too many is someone & that, too, a woman, speaking their personal truth so unapologetically and with conviction and passion when most people are afraid to say anything for fear of being judged or persecuted for their beliefs.  Shoot, most people consciously choose to not even “like” or comment on stuff on Facebook, because they are so in their heads about what others might think).

I am not plagued by any such fear, so I “like” my freaking heart out and speak freely, openly, frequently, and always unapologetically.  I make it known where I stand, what I stand for, and what I believe; accordingly, I have no problem being not liked – for reals in non-FB life – because of it.

On that note… yesterday, when I posted about going to see PK, I said that I was “excited to see what Bollywood’s highest grossing film – supposedly one completely aligned with my beliefs about religion – is all about!”  Having watched the film, I can that – in every way, shape, and form – this movie depicts what I believe about religion and have believed since the ripe age of 9. My mom (a devout Hindu) has always been uber religious and so many of my memories from growing up involved going to temple.  However, as the concepts of science, logic & reasoning were introduced to me by my dad and various things that I gravitated towards (like the stories of Gandhi, MLK, etc.) turned me into this young and spunky person who questioned/challenged (very politely) everything and refused to accept things because 1) they are a certain way and 2) people say this is how they are supposed to be, religion became something I began to doubt.

I asked my mom questions like “why do we believe in so and so God, but Aisha believes in this God and Jason in this one and Susan in another…?”  When she would tell me they were all the same God, I did not buy it.  It seemed like something nice to say, but that no one really believed or practiced that.  I asked her why we fasted (more like why she fasted; I have never fasted a day in my life because as I like to say nowadays “God ain’t got no time for that!”), why could not we eat meat on Tuesdays, why did we give money at temple, why so much of what we did felt arbitrary and without any real reason or logic, and a hundred other questions…

She tried explaining, but again, it just felt like an explanation in vain.

During that time, a family friend Auntie of ours, Shobha Auntie, had started a Havan group.  The group did not focus on any religious stories, there were no deities and accordingly, there was no idol worship and we did not do or say anything without a reason.  If we lit a fire, there was science behind it; if we recited a mantra, we learned what every word meant and how it applied to our lives.  Shobha Auntie’s execution of this monthly Havan group during the formative years of my life literally changed the trajectory of what I believed and who I am.  I remember stating to my parents at 14 that I would no longer be going to temple, because the God I believed in did not need me to go to a physical place of worship (where most of the time felt like a social hang out of sorts that was much less about God and anything related to God, but about a scene where people went to be seen & bribed God and his “managers” – the pandits and such).

I did not go to another temple for 9 years until a family friend of ours got married and, after that, I decided that I could go to the temple as long as I knew why I was there for other people’s (primarily my mom & dad’s) happiness, which was fine by me. Now fast forward to watching PK last night.  *Spoiler Alert* (if you haven’t seen the previews, read articles or other posts on the movie, I am not giving away any of the plot – just the basic message which has been talked about everywhere).  The only other time I have watched a film and felt it was so aligned with what I believe and how I live my life was when I watched the documentary, I Am (another movie that inspired a blog post).

I know some people in the motherland are losing their minds over the film which they find to be blasphemous and offensive, but I personally thought the film was the most beautiful and (in my biased opinion) most accurate depiction of the hypocrisy of religion – NOT God – and the ironic and often terrible ways that people live their lives in accordance with (or more like the opposite of) their said religion. I loved how he highlighted the one thing I would say the most to my mom growing up: “I am a Hindu only because I was born to Hindu parents.  If you & dad had died in a car accident after I was born and I was adopted by Muslims, I would be Muslim” to which she had no reply.  & this has something that has dumbfounded me forever… how very religious people respond to the FACT that no one is BORN the religion they practice and that it is taught to them as is every ritual and rule associated to said religion

Most of all I loved how Khan’s character said that he believed in the God that created all of us, but not the God that all of us created. BOOM, *Mic Drop!*  I cannot think of a truer statement for me personally because I, too, believe in and love the intangible God who doesn’t need his ego stroked by having us visit him in temples & churches, who doesn’t make us jump through hoops or demands we prove our devotion to him (God is not so sick and twisted that he gets off on our challenges and trials in an effort to prove our belief in him thereby proving us *worthy* of getting what we want), who “favors” some and not others (how terrible would God be if he picked favorites and passively let people suffer OR how powerful of a God would he be if the Devil was “winning” in so many millions people’s of lives who are suffering every day?), who does not accept our bribes and our bartering (I visited Vrindavan in India and experienced first hand the racket that is religion like when I wasn’t allowed into a certain temple unless I paid 500 rupees or people literally trampled over me in another temple in an effort to get place their “deluxe puja packages” at God’s feet trying to bribe him for something or another), who could care less what we ate, how we prayed or anything else so trifling (or so hypocritical and contradictory; for example, all the vegetarian Hindus who rock their leather sofas & shoes but look down on meat-eating Hindus), who doesn’t need us to pray to, protect or serve him (God is not a narcissist)… and who most of all,  just wants us to believe in ourselves and care for each other & if we were to do just that, everything that God – if one exists – actually wants would happen all on its own.

But back to the film which basically addressed everything I said above and blatantly called out every hypocrisy of EVERY religion.  It was so perfectly done under the (very necessary) guise of comedy and executed in a way that will undoubtedly make millions of people take pause and think about their own belief in God and religion.

To me, religion is a total (yet quite brilliant) racket… it is man-made to control people with fear, and holy sh!t is fear a great motivator (sadly though, is quite superficial, meaningless and hypocritical ways).  God, however, who I believe in – in a very high level and broadway – ONLY because of the profound empathy I feel for people who will never be able to do a damn thing for me, is not motivated by fear and punishment… just love and THAT is what PK depicted so very brilliantly.

Again, I believe in the God who created us… not the God who we created, and, to me, God is so very basic (not in the offensive way the word is used nowadays), but simple in that believing in God is not about punishment, salvation or reaching heaven/moksha or hell/rebirth, but simply about being a good person (what I have always tried to assure my mom with – that God would be thoroughly pleased with who and how I am – when she expresses concern about my disbelief/ non-practising) & my religion is humanity and kindness (unless pushed, then I will #cutsomeone) while everything else before, after and in between is just noise…

That’s all from me for now.  Thanks, Aamir.

Many of you know by now that another young woman was gang-raped in India. This time it happened in Mumbai, which is known for being a safe metro area (in comparison to Delhi, for example), so people are reeling in shock that it happened in their city on the street they travel so frequently as opposed to the gang-rape of the rape victim in Delhi several months ago. People of South Asian descent are also understandably saying that they are ashamed of India and that they expect better of the motherland.

What I want to say is that I am NOT ashamed of India nor do I expect any better of the motherland, because gang-rapes are not exclusive to India (an 11-year old was gang-raped by 18 men in Texas last year). Instead, I am shameful of humanity and expect better of people – you and I included. Yes, you and I contribute to rape culture and the devaluing of women, which is ultimately why rape and all violence against women happens. Before I go on, if you do not know me or my story, I am writing this as a South Asian woman in the context of having been a victim of violence – domestic violence – last year and more of my story is at the end of this post.

Anyway, I am personally sick and tired of the outcry and outrage – even my own – that follows any highly public incident of violence towards women, because it is easy to post something on Facebook (I do it all the time), but to live your life and demand that others do the same in a way that actually changes anything is an entirely different story – one that most are not willing to sign up for. Why not? Well, because it requires a whole lot of work, effort, getting comfortable with being uncomfortable (being able to tolerate the dreaded feeling of “awkward”), and not doing what the masses do (which is usually nothing), and – more than anything – it requires people to really care about anyone other than themselves beyond their “popular caring” on Facebook.  “Popular caring,” as I like to call it, is easy as demonstrated by anyone capable of using Google can outcry [insert horrific offense against humanity] or post a Gandhi (“Be the change you wish to see in the world”) or MLK (“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere”) quote. *Rolling my eyes thinking of some of the people who popular care and post their quotes and what kind of people they are in real life.*

Let us be honest… what most people care about is their own lives being good and when they hear a story like this (something many resent having to even hear about because it’s not “positive” and all sunshine and roses), they momentarily feel distraught over what happened, but they count their blessings that it did not happen to them or someone they love and continue life as they always have, because they are not capable of seeing themselves or someone they love in that victim.

The following is what I believe needs to happen in an effort to dramatically and drastically change the position of women (which is clearly subhuman considering all the acts of violence that happen against them) – both in India and in the world in general – in no particular order:

We need to stop being desensitized to the suffering in this world and living our lives with blissful happiness because our own lives are good. Nothing will change until we really start living our lives with the mentality that “what happens to one of us happens to all of us” (my personal motto). I genuinely live my life this way, and I vow to never be – more like I am incapable of being – 100% happy as long as children are starving and women are gang-raped or are victims of violence anywhere. In spite of the domestic violence situation, I have lived a mostly charmed life simply due to the luck of the draw when it came to who I was born to and where I was born and many are not so lucky, so I resolve to take personal responsibility for improving their lot in this world – in whatever small way I can – as my rent for having lived such a charmed life.

Many people with a similar upbringing as mine feel so entitled and are blissfully unaware of their privilege compared to others dealt a less fortunate lot. They talk about their “hard work” as if their parents’ efforts did not set them up for the kind of successful and comfort-filled lives they are living. They talk about people on welfare and food stamps condescendingly with no thought to what a vicious cycle most people who have to use these kinds of public aid systems are a part of and are unable to wrap their tiny little brains around how we are where we are because 99% of us never had to worry a day about having a roof over our heads, a place to sleep to eat, or having something to eat. Worse than that, nothing in their existence suggests that they are doing anything to improve anything for these folks or anyone other than themselves, and the only thing they are good at is complaining that their “hard-earned tax dollars going towards” the services “these people” use.

These are also usually the people who “hate drama.” To them, I have to say “who, in their right mind, likes drama in their own lives??” Sure, some people like gossip and drama shows, but no one likes their own life to have strife, discomfort, pain, suffering, loss or whatever you decide to deem “drama.” Therefore, when someone is going through something and your response is to dismiss their situation by saying, “Ugh, I hate drama,” what you are really saying is, “As long as my life is okay, I am good, and I will excuse myself from having to care about your life and everything else in the world by saying, ‘I hate drama,’ because most people who are like me will respond, ‘Yeah, me too.'” To people like that, I say god seriously bless you and I truly hope that one day, you or someone you care about never has to go through anything that someone else will deem drama in your time of need.

Sorry, I digressed on this one, but until we genuinely see ourselves or those we love (it should not require either, but “happening to a human being” usually isn’t enough) in the girl being raped – whether it be by a gang or one person – and other victims of violence and the infinite atrocities in this world, our apathy contributes to these atrocities happening. One day, your daughter could visit India or go to a high school like Steubenville high or basically do ANYTHING – like simply breathe and exist on any street anywhere – which could result in her being raped, and if that bothers you, then stop your outcrying and actually start doing something that makes the situation different. Note: ^^ being said, your relation to a person should not be your impetus for caring; it should come from not wanting these things to happen to ANY humans.

We need to stop seeing women – and worse, women need to stop seeing themselves – as objects and ornaments to be possessed (“arm candy, trophy wives,” etc). Currently, the implicit – sometimes explicit depending on where you live – understanding is that a woman does not have value unless she is desired by the male population to the point of one man ultimately wanting to be with her for the rest of his life. Seriously, how many women do you know who feel like they have or are perceived as having failed at life because, in spite of their multiple degrees, successful careers, high-paying salaries and great-by-all-standards lives, they are not married? Why is that even a thing?? (& do not get me started on how much of a thing that is in the South Asian community where women are encouraged to become as highly educated as humanly possible but then at 25/26, there is no greater achievement than finding yourself a groom).

We need to stop raising our daughters to be “princesses” (particularly the kind which need to be rescued by a male “hero” – 98% of all Disney princesses) and “dolls” (unless you think your daughter is a plaything or worse, something to be put in a glass case and displayed) and stop “oohing” and “awe-ing” over young girls whose entire existence revolves around what they wear, being pampered divas, and being liked by boys. That is NOT cute. What is “cute” and awe-worthy is “smart, strong, capable, perseverant, thoughtful, successful and girls can do anything boys can” and we should hope that every girl can be like this force to reckon with.

Stop raising misogynistic douches. You might think you are not raising one, but you very well may be. For example, when you tell your young son to stop “being a girl” when he cries or say he throws “like a girl” when he fails to meet your throwing standards, you are teaching him that being a girl is an insult… an inferior quality that one does not want to be. Parents of young boys, please make sure you actively educate your young sons (most of all, by how you treat and speak about women) – even if you do not have any daughters and perhaps in the hope that your son will not be the failure-in-parenting that were the Steubenville boys who took pictures of a girl being sexually assaulted and posted them to Facebook or who treats his girlfriend as a possession or abuses his wife one day. Instill the belief in them that women are equal to them, fully capable, and as smart, strong and worthy of every and anything afforded to a man.

We need to stop qualifying the atrocities against women. The story is certainly more horrific – and generates a lot more buzz and far more “popular caring” outcries – when a woman is “gang-raped,” but every minute of every day, acts of horrific violence are committed against women. Rape by one man against one woman is not any less of a crime and an atrocity against humanity than a rape by many men against one woman. The latter disturbs us more, but why are we not outcrying “that things need to change” for the women who are raped every single day or the women who are beaten by their husbands and killed by their boyfriends (nearly 1 in 3 women is a victim of intimate partner violence)? If it’s not a “good” (gruesome) story, why do we not care as much? Also, it is the “small (insidious) things” that we do not consider to be assault or rape that ultimately result in rape culture – the butt pinch/pat/smack, the pressing against on the crowded subway, the snapping of a bra… these things are ALL harassment and assault and need to be understood & called out as such.

We need to stop rejecting feminism. Nowadays, if you are a “feminist,” you are one of the seemingly crazy of this world because the word has so wrongly been misconstrued to be “anti-men” when nothing could be further from the truth. Feminism believes that men are more evolved than their biological/carnal impulses and desires and capable of restraint, empathy, compassion and care; patriarchy is what says they are not, and we should all be collectively against that. & I do not know about you, but some of the stuff you hear about women (from the ability of a woman’s body to “shut” conception post-rape “down” to the birth control and abortion debates) makes me feel like we have jumped into a DeLorean time machine and traveled back in time 50-60 years ago where women were still having to fight for their right to vote. We may be able to vote now but that the above-mentioned are still even issues – and that a woman’s right to do anything to her own body (HER OWN FREAKING BODY!) is even up for debate – should be of great concern everyone whether you are a male or female.

We need to stop having such an absurd double standard for women when it comes to sexuality. We demonize women for wanting sex and “slut shame” (every woman who “wants it” – i.e. is biologically programmed in the same exact way that a man is – is a “slut”) yet no one blinks an eye at a man wanting the same. Men are expected to be sexual creatures whose desire is celebrated, high-fived and understood but women who desire the same – basically, err… essentially all women – are slut-shamed (like in this story of a 17-year old “Slane girl” where a guy and girl did something consensually moronic but the girl is a “slut” and the guy is a “legend”). In this case, the young woman was certainly not a victim of anything (other than poor choices and bullying after the incident), but when a woman is a victim of rape or any violence, we question her actions more than we question the actions of the man who assaulted her.

We say “She drank too much. Her dress was too short. She shouldn’t have been walking alone. Why did not she call the police”? We teach women how to avoid being raped by telling them how drunk not to get (because inebriated or unconscious drunk – which men *never* become – is a “rape me” invitation), what not to wear (at some number of inches above a woman’s knee sends off a “get at me without my permission” signal but a bikini – essentially walking around in your underwear – doesn’t do the same), and where not to walk instead of teaching our boys not to rape. I’m not the first to say this, but our expectation seems to be that if you have the Y chromosome, then instinctually you are no different than an unneutered dog and are therefore incapable of NOT raping a woman. If you are a man who feels slightly more evolved than this, this mentality should deeply upset you.

We need to stop being reactionary morons. I am sorry but just like people avoided movie theaters after last year’s shooting or how people became afraid of flying after the recent plane crash or 9/11, people in Mumbai will now say “such and such area is very dangerous for women,” and keep their daughters from going there. Um, no. No street in this world is safe from predators and if those without a moral compass can get there, no one is technically safe, so instead of being so reactionary to the actions of sick individuals (can you imagine how satisfying it must be for the truly disturbed to watch us change our ways because of the single offenses they commit??), DO SOMETHING to change the behavior of yourself and those around you. Some of the things you can be doing are mentioned throughout this post, but – most urgently – whether you are a woman or a man reading this, we MUST call out inappropriate/harmful/violent behavior when we see it (& safe to do so) and we must make sure that we are not perpetuating rape culture by the things we say, believe, or even laugh at (for example, that “rape *joke*” is NEVER FUNNY)

We need to stop perpetuating our culture which believes that a woman’s greatest asset is her physical appearance. Not her intelligence, her thoughtfulness, her character or her “great personality” (this is in quotes because it is actually considered an insult by most or the equivalent of being called “ugly), but her BODY even more so than her face. In a bikini-wearing culture (see previous comment about wearing our underwear in public) and one that worships the half-naked “goddesses” that are Victoria Secret’s models, women from a very young age are taught that having a “bikini body” is quite possibly life’s greatest aspiration. Have/acquire a bikini body – the focus of the cover of almost every woman’s magazine – and your bad grades, not-so-good job or empty head incapable of independent thought all become irrelevant, because a bikini body qualifies you to be a great trophy wife and as the Real Housewives and every celebrity magazine has taught us, there is no greater thing to be desired in this world than to adorn a man’s arm. *Vomit and pretend to hold a gun to my head*

On that note, we need to stop creating a culture that values the dumbest and most superficial sh!t ever. Real House Wives of the I don’t care where? Gossip Girl? The Honey Boo-Boo Show? Keeping up the with who-the-F cares? All these shows and the magazines that make us care about the lives of celebrities/reality stars more than our own (seriously though, why does anyone care about anyone’s post-baby body, who has the most cellulite or anything so trifling?) and make us get our kicks off gossip/drama/back-stabbing are at the foundation of the demise of humanity. I know this seems like a reach, but your watching/purchasing/existing decisions all contribute to rape culture and the devaluing of women, so give them a thought for a second before you keep doing more of the same.

We need to stop balking at hearing stories of no one coming to the Delhi rape victim’s aid (she was thrown off the bus naked and lay on a busy street for nearly a half hour before anyone came to her aid) when more likely than not, we ourselves would not do anything to help her. We all imagine ourselves being heroes, but most of us are apathetic and passive sheep (again, a HALF HOUR on a busy street in India and if you need a real-world story, see mine at the end). Watch any “What would you do?” show and most people are complacent and do nothing when faced with an apparent wrong, and it is not until one brave person speaks up and take action that everyone else jumps on the “hero bandwagon.”

Post-publishing (2018) edit: I am splitting this blog post into two. Please see: Dear Motherland, Get It Together. 


An aside to put all of the above in context:
As I mentioned at the start of this post, last year, I was a victim of domestic violence. Not an “alleged” victim but a real one, and after dating a prominent South Asian attorney for less than 3 months, I filed an order of protection (OOP) against him after he violently assaulted me and blackmailed me and my father (if you are new to my story and are now stuck on being fascinated with the blackmail, click here). I then found out he had another OOP on record from a year ago from another South Asian woman. I was then banned from a South Asian Networking organization’s – NetIP’s – conference, which I had pre-paid for, by my ex’s best friend and then president of the organization because I had the OOP (note: only I was banned and not both me and my ex which would have made logical sense).

Soon after filing the OOP, I lost most of my friends – to the point of having to subpoena my best friend to testify for me – and I was persecuted by an entire community (albeit many from the community supported me) because people felt that the e-mails that went out regarding the NetIP issue were an “inappropriate forum;” in their opinion, domestic violence is a private matter and there is an “appropriate forum” in which it is to be discussed (read: not at all). My ex served on the board of 2 South Asian bar associations and the local Chicago chapter removed him from his leadership position; however, the parent organization allowed him to stay because I lost my case against him.

Yes, I lost my case in spite of 1) my having a 3″ binder of evidence proving I was a victim of abuse 2) his lawyer trying to cut a deal with my lawyer before the case ended (because they, too, thought they were going to lose), and 3) the judge in my case was the same judge who oversaw the first case just a year ago. In spite of all of this, I lost and those who stood against me from NetIP and the community felt vindicated, which I will never understand because my losing the case did not negate the first case against him or all the evidence I shared publicly proving that what I was saying was true.

I am juxtaposing my story next to the story of the most recent rape case in India – not to even remotely compare the horror of the rape victim’s experience to my own – but because my story was how our Indian community living in America handled my situation, and my story is the perfect example of how we see women everywhere, which is that women are to blame for the offenses that happen to them. My “friends,” NetIP leaders, many in the community and the judge all blamed me for what happened to me and it was easier for them to believe that I made this up (because being known as a DV victim is good fun and having your parents know – or “imagine” – that their daughter was assaulted is what every girl thrives from) than to accept that a MAN – a respected, well-educated, refined man with his titles and wealth – could do this to a woman.

So let us not be “ashamed of India” or “expect better from India,” and instead let us all collectively be ashamed of ourselves – of humanity in general (or the lack of humanity) – and let us only expect better of ourselves in how we all collectively contribute to the pervasive issue of violence against women.

Thanks always for reading,

 

 

 

Resharing the quotes from my previous post, “Most of are Joe Paterno”)

I swore ever to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. ~ Elie Wiesel

What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.  ~ Albert  Pike ( Thanks, Carl)

By Martin Luther King, Jr.:

“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”

“Not only will we have to repent for the sins of bad people; but we also will have to repent for the appalling silence of good people.”

“On some positions, cowardice asks the question, is it expedient? And then expedience comes along and asks the question, is it politic? Vanity asks the question, is it popular? Conscience asks the question, is it right?  There comes a tme when one must take the position that is neither safe nor politic nor popular, but he must do it because conscience tells him it is right.”

Published on 11/20/2012. Changed privacy setting back to public on 4/5/2012 after my public live video share to my Facebook page (link to follow) about SABA North America allowing my ex to run for their board. More receipts to be shared, and I am in complete awe that I had the ability to write this – actually, do ANY of what I did – while living through what felt like a Lifetime horror movie and while experiencing PTSD & depression (which I did not cognitively perceive until my flurry of naive justice-seeking activity stopped) as I was just in non-stop “fight/flight” survival mode until then. 


The below is to provide context to my OPEN LETTER TO JUDGE BALL-REED (scroll to Nov. 20), because my story is important for 2 reasons:  1)  Without it, it would be difficult to fully understand just how wrong Judge Patrice Ball-Reed got it (click here to see her ruling) and 2) to open up the public’s eyes to how this broken system further victimizes victims and why domestic violence as an issue is not taken as seriously as it should.

AN OPEN LETTER TO “HONORABLE” JUDGE BALL-REED (Cook County Domestic Violence Court, 555 West Harrison Street, Room 201),

Dear Judge Ball-Reed,

I hope that after seeing you in court countless times over 7 months – for what must have been one of your longest and most memorable cases – that you remember my name, because I will never be able to forget yours. I am writing to you regarding your ruling on October 30th to dismiss my order of protection case and to tell you that you got it COMPLETELY WRONG.

Not only did you get it wrong, your ruling was ill-informed (as you very clearly did not read critical documentation submitted during the proceedings), and, most of all, it was condescending and offensive (particularly when you implied that my story was implausible because – from not ending the relationship at a friend’s suggestion to not being able to fight him off during the physical altercation in spite of being 3 weeks post-LUNG surgery – I did not act the way you would have had you been in my shoes). To be perfectly clear, the ONLY thing you served that day was a grave injustice to all women who have ever been a victim of gender-based violence and then had both their abusers and the system turn things against them and revictimize and further traumatize them.

Please know that it is with 100% confidence that I am saying you got it wrong in such a public manner, because I can conclusively, via documentation, PROVE (as I did in court) the following: 1) That there WAS a physical incident the night of Mar 2-3. 2) That the story my ex (who is an attorney) and his BFF (who is an Assistant US Attorney) told was a complete lie, 3) That I was blackmailed with a picture of me using a toilet in his apartment (we proved foundation for this e-mail which was submitted to you as evidence) and for which the EXIF data shows that it was from his exact longitude & latitude as well as his exact floor. He lied under oath and said that the bathroom in the photo wasn’t his, and 4) That he stalked, harassed and threatened me and also harassed and threatened my family. In other words, I FULLY met the preponderance of evidence required to secure an Order of Protection. In spite of this, you held my case to the standard of a criminal case, requiring me to prove what he did beyond a shadow of a reasonable doubt.

FYI, just as a friendly reminder: evidence includes your testimony and any other proof you have of the alleged abuse.

Even though this case could and should have been a criminal case, it was not – it was only a civil case filed purely for PROTECTION, not seeking any punishment, retribution or retaliation whatsoever.

Perhaps the confusion came from my ex having a CRIMINAL DEFENSE ATTORNEY represent him, who manipulated technicalities/loopholes in the system, so that I was unable to submit the PREVIOUS 2-YEAR PLENARY Order of Protection against my ex from another woman, unable to speak to my own and/or to subpoenaed phone records, and could not show all my evidence because, for certain items, I could not prove “foundation.” For example, I couldn’t speak to the texts I received stating he knew where my parents lived and where my father worked, and threatening that I “Could have avoided so much,” because the texts came from a number that I could only have proven was him had I just been able to speak to the subpoenaed phone records (FYI, those 2 numbers are in the public record in the first petitioner’s case).

When my father testified, he was not allowed to speak to the threatening e-mail he received at his work e-mail address, that had the same exact 4 pictures (with the same exact titles and EXIF data) as the blackmail e-mail I received, all because the e-mail to my father came from a fictitious e-mail address.

Despite countless items that we were unable to speak to and submit into evidence, we WERE able to prove foundation for both the “fix this or else” blackmail e-mail and the threatening texts from him telling me that “the very thing you are desperately trying to avoid is going to blow up in your face.”  Even though these pieces of evidence were both read out loud in testimony and submitted as evidence for your review, you very clearly missed these entirely. Perhaps you were sleeping for that part, and yes, Judge Ball-Reed, in addition to not being able to see the faces of 2 of my witnesses at any point during their testimony due to 2 monitors blocking your view, at least 4 people can attest to your sleeping in court on October 30th.

When it came to making your ruling, rather than base it on 3 days of testimony from a total of 4 witnesses corroborating my story (one of whom is one of his clients) and the above-mentioned evidence, you based it on the closing argument of his lawyer, who told you that giving me an order or protection would be an insult to women who were “actually” abused and that your court had a reputation for giving out OOPs like candy. Accordingly, when you went back to deliberate for all of 30 minutes, instead of reviewing my 6-page affidavit (which you had clearly never read) or the evidence, you found an obscure e-mail that I wrote to him to STOP abusive behavior and took ONE line out of context to come to the determination that I was simply not the type of woman who wanted to be a victim (I would love to know what kind of woman wants to be a victim).

Furthermore, because I didn’t “get at least one in” during the physical altercation as you would have or end the relationship per my “BFF/bestie,” my story was implausible. It was as if I was the FIRST domestic violence victim who did not successfully fight off her abuser, did not call the police to report the abuse the first chance she had, did not end the relationship when recommended by friends/family and who stayed in an abusive relationship out of fear of threats and/or due to continued manipulation by her abuser. Judge Ball-Reed, I’m sure you are very familiar that it takes a woman an average of SEVEN times to leave her abuser, and I only dated him for 3 months.

I understand that there is a process to challenge your ruling, but unfortunately, after spending the greater part of my life savings these past 7 months only to receive your unfathomable ruling, I can no longer afford to file an appeal. Therefore, I am writing this open letter hoping that I will be able to have an opportunity to meet with a CPD 18th District Detective and a State’s Attorney to simply present my case as well as the previous Petitioner’s case (still within the 2-year statute of limitations). Even if criminal charges are not pursued, I will be able to rest assured that I have taken all action possible against this 2-time offender, who, when (absolutely no question of “if”) he continues this behavior towards women – especially South Asian women – some poor woman will either commit suicide or be killed as I could have been.

With great disappointment in the American “Justice” system,

His, your, & the system’s victim

Is donating bone marrow a personal cause of mine?  No, but it is something that I have had an awareness of ever since my senior year of undergrad when a friend (real talk: kind of a frenemy and this haunted me for a long time) had a bout with leukaemia and was saved for the second time by a bone marrow donation from her brother (sadly, she did not survive due to something entirely unrelated)… that experience inspired me to help my brother host a bone marrow drive back when I lived in DC… 3 years ago, I met Vijay Uncle who not only inspired my starting this blog but was and still is a huge advocate for South Asians registering as bone marrow donors… a friend of mine (who you may have heard of), Tim, started a South Asian-focused non-profit for finding bone marrow matches worldwide… and most recently, a friend of mine, Cherry Mangat, went through the experience of being a donor.

Now I can honestly say I don’t really know Cherry very well.  I met her when she lived in Chicago, knew her more through friends and really never got to know her personally.  Oddly enough (to you, not to me because this happens quite a bit for me), I got to know her through Facebook.  As much as this will sound creepster-ish, when she moved to San Francisco, I would see her posts, saw someone who was like-minded and wished that I had gotten to know her better before she had left.   As far as I could tell, Cherry was a soulful, spiritual and thoughtful person but nothing affirmed that feeling as much as when I saw her post the day she was going to be going to donate bone marrow.

I think I may have been the first person to like/comment (I know, shocking) on her post regarding being a donor because I put myself in Cherry’s shoes and imagined what a profound and life-changing experience she must be going through.  I followed up with a personal e-mail asking if I could interview Cherry for my blog with lots of SM-disclaimers about “no worries if not” and “I know you’re going through the procedure as we speak.”  However, Cherry wrote me back from the hospital graciously saying yes.

Below is my interview with the beautiful – on the inside and out – Cherry Mangat.

1)  When did you first register and why?

I first registered for the National Marrow Donor Program when I was a Junior in college.  I started out simply wanting to donate blood but I was underweight so I wasn’t allowed to give, so instead, I volunteered to organize all the blood drives on campus.  Through that work, I heard about the NMDP and how hard it was for patients to find a match, especially for minorities.  I thought that if I could help someone in this way it would be wonderful, and so I registered.

2)  When did you receive the call that you were a match and what information was provided to you…?
I first received a call in October of 2011 that I could be a potential match.  It was actually right around the time of my birthday and it felt like a gift to me; I had been in a rut and feeling sorry for myself for so many things.  Getting that call was a reality check, a reminder of how lucky I was to have my health and that I could actually help to save someone else’s life.  The chances of that happening are so rare, I felt like I had won the lottery!

The NMDP provided a lot of information to me, including what every step of the process would be (health questionnaire, in-person health interview, blood tests, x-rays, EKG’s, physical exams, possible methods of giving marrow, recovery time, privacy rights, a possibility of corresponding with the patient, etc).  I had the kindest donor advocate and she went with me to my appointments and offered a lot of support before, during and after the procedure.  All of my questions were answered promptly and since I was in SF but my family was in Chicago, the NMDP even offered to fly a relative to SF if it would help me.

3)  What ran through your head when you found out (include any reactions from family/friends that you think is relevant) and what followed in regards to next steps?

When I found out that I was a potential match in October, it did not really hit me.  When I went through all of the tests in December and I was deemed healthy enough to donate, I was excited.  A date was set for the donation in January, but it kept moving out the month after month because the patient was not doing well.  At that point, I was feeling quite sad because even though the patient was anonymous, the NMDP was allowed to tell me that she was 16 and that she had Leukemia.  She was also an international match so most likely I figured she was Indian.  We had never met and I did not know if we would ever meet, but I felt a connection to her and it was hard to know each month that her health still wasn’t good enough for the intense chemotherapy that she would have to undergo before she could receive my cells.

In the beginning, whenever I would meditate I would send positive thoughts to her and her family, to help them pull through.  I also took extremely good care of myself because I wanted to be as healthy as possible for her, which sounds a little weird but when you know that something that is inside of you is going to be put inside of someone else, you have a whole new respect for your body and you also want to give that other person the best possible chance of surviving.  I wasn’t given any restrictions on what I could do or eat or anything like that, but it was just something that came from within me to want to be in the best health possible for this procedure.  But after this went on for four or five months I began to lose hope.  At one point I did not think that she was going to make it, and it was a very sad time.

Then, when I received a call that she was doing better and that we could move forward with the donation in June, it was a huge surprise!  I felt many emotions – excitement, anxiety, fear, love, oneness, and many other things.  Everything moved really quickly so I almost did not have time to process all of the different emotions.  My family was very supportive, some of my relatives even admitted that they did not think they could do something like this, but they were proud of me for having the courage to do it.  I did not think of it as being courageous, to me, it just felt like something that human beings should simply do for each other.  How often is someone given a chance to save someone else’s life?  Some people said to me “I would do this if it was for someone that I knew, but not for someone I didn’t even know.” That was a strange thing to hear because how can we value one life more than another?  If someone in our own family had a disease and we had to count on others to help, but if others also thought “well this person is not in my family” – we would never find help.  As a society, I hope that we can move away from that kind of thinking.

I also had to prepare myself for the fact that I could go through the donation, and then the patient may not survive.  That is a lot to think about, but, at the end of the day, I felt that even if that was the outcome, at least the patient could leave this world knowing that someone out there cared and tried to help, that she wasn’t alone in this fight.  And the same for her family, at least they would have been given some hope, and some comfort.  So I decided to still move forward.

I could not have done this alone; I had a lot of support from family, friends, and co-workers.  Lookout, the company that I work for, was very supportive from day one and told me to take as much time as I needed to recover, and they even sent me flowers, how sweet!  My uncle lives in the Bay Area and he came with me to the hospital on the morning of the procedure and stayed with me as long as I needed.  I was also seeing someone at the time and he was also a big help, calming me down when I got nervous, visiting me at the hospital both days, taking care of me during the days after the procedure when I was feeling a little weak.  The whole thing was an emotional and also spiritual experience; it was a good reminder of how we should not take our health for granted.  It was also a reminder of how much we rely on each other for support, it was a humbling experience.

4)  Since we all know where bone marrow comes from and due to what we’ve heard about the process (even if it is outdated information) there is a natural hesitation when it comes to pain.  What were the actual procedure and recovery like?

There is definitely a lot of misinformation out there about the donation process.  The way that I donated was actually very different than the procedure that most people think of.  There are actually two ways of donating, the procedure used on me was called Peripheral Blood Stem Cell donation (PBSC).  Normally in PBSC donation, blood is taken out from one arm, it goes into a machine where it is spun really fast and the cells that are needed are taken out of the bloodstream, and then the blood is returned through the other arm.  Very simple.  For me, because I am petite and the veins in my arms are too small, they had to take the blood from the vein in my neck instead of from my arm.  Also because of my size, this had to be done over two days rather than the normal one-day procedure in the hospital.  I didn’t really feel anything while the procedure was actually happening, just a little tired and weak.

Five days prior to the procedure, a nurse came to my apartment every morning to give me a shot which helped to increase the number of blood-forming cells in my bloodstream.  This was just like any other shot and I only experienced mild aches which were easily managed by taking some Aleve.  After the procedure, I felt generally weak but was able to return to work after a few days.  There was soreness in my neck from where the blood was drawn but that also was totally manageable.  The hardest part was when they put the catheter in my neck, which was the only time that I experienced real pain.  Yes, that was hard but in comparison to what the patient was going through, that was nothing.

Every single doctor, nurse, and other hospital staff that interacted with me kept thanking me and kept saying that it was wonderful to do something like this for another person.  When you have all of that support, you do not even focus on anything else but the fact that this is all for a good cause, and that anything that you’re going through is totally worth it.

At this point, I know that the patient has received the stem cells, and at the end of this month I will find out how she is doing.  I continue to send her positive energy and positive thoughts.

5)  I can only imagine what a powerful, meaningful, and life-changing experience donating marrow has been.  What has donating meant to you and what you want readers to know about registering?

I highly encourage everyone to register, it is a very simple process.  The chances of being a match are very rare, but if you do get the opportunity to donate, it is a life-changing experience.  I’m humbled to have had this chance to serve, it was a great reminder of how connected we all are.  Life is fragile, and we cannot take our health for granted.  Imagine what it means to give someone hope….can there be a greater gift?

6)  & lastly, favourite quote/life motto? (I know, so cheesy, but since I asked Sacha Dhawan and am obsessed with quotes…):

I have many favourite quotes but the one that applies most directly to this particular donation experience is this one:

“I slept and dreamt that life was a joy. I awoke and found that life was service. I acted and behold, service was a joy.”   Rabindranath Tagore

So, that’s all from our interview, and I hope that Cherry’s experience inspires those who haven’t yet to register.  To find out how to register, please visit www.bethematch.org, and to fully understand the importance of why we need South Asians to register, please read this article, which elaborates on the fact that “only 17,000 of the nine million members on the registry are South Asian.”  Vijay Uncle has said countless times that we need to register because although we hope and pray otherwise, one day it could be our sibling, son, daughter, cousin, friend or even ourselves who may one day be in need of a bone marrow donation.  I hope everyone feels that way about everything – that what happens to one of us, happens to all of us – and that if you have not already registered, that you do and encourage others to do the same.

Thanks always for reading and write soon,

 

 

 

 

“Giving of any kind… taking an action… begins the process of change, and moves us to remember that we are part of a much greater universe. ”
― Mbali Creazzo

“I want you to understand that your first duty is to humanity. I want others to look at us and see that we are not just about ourselves but about others.”
― Madam C.J. Walker

I know without saying much, I’ve already offended many and if you’re mad and I’ve lost you, thanks for stopping by, but – if you’re irritated and will bear with me long enough (& yes long enough b/c I can write a lot in a very short amount of time) to let me explain myself – awesome.

Per Wikipedia, let me first remind everyone:  “Former FBI director Louis Freeh, whose firm was hired by the Penn State Board of Trustees to conduct an independent investigation into the scandal, concluded, after interviewing over 400 people and reviewing over 3.5 million documents, that Paterno, Spanier, Curley and Schultz had deliberately conspired to conceal Sandusky’s actions in order to protect publicity surrounding Penn State’s vaunted football program. Freeh’s investigation found that by their actions, the four men “failed to protect against a child sexual predator harming children for over a decade.” The report concluded that Paterno, along with Schultz, Spanier and Curley “concealed Sandusky’s activities from the Board of Trustees, the University community and authorities.”

Someone I had recently met told me that he knew of me before meeting me because of my blog and asked me why I haven’t written lately.  I explained that I had shut it down temporarily, told him why and that I wasn’t sure when I’d be writing again.  In my typical SM-self-deprecating way (in spite of being vocal, it is still nerve wrecking to wonder what people think about your thoughts), I poked fun at myself for the length of my posts; I told him that although they are long, they are not something I really think about and that they flow out of me in one uninterrupted stream of thought.  To my surprise, 24 hours later and after watching Episode 1 of Satyamev Jayate last night, I found myself logging into my blog for the first time in months having one of those streaming moments.

As I have mentioned in recent posts, in addition to relationships, I have a keen interest in South Asians taking the path less travelled, and – as part of a community that gives so much importance to “what people think” and, for the most part, putting on an “I only have good times” front in spite of really hard times that one might be facing – I want to thank Sona Mehta for taking the path less travelled and sharing her very personal story with all of us.