Category: Writting

Another news of a bookstore downsizing.

One of the few remaining bookstores, Books Kinokuniya has always been a favourite place for many different reasons for many years now. The excitement when this huge space was opened is still palpable! At the first visit, it seemed never ending. I had become ‘Bastian Balthazar Bux’ and was journeying into Fantastica, one door opening into another! When my daughters were small, it was a place where my elder one would almost always be lost. She would be submerged in the world of Percy Jackson or lost in the Land of Stories! A considerable amount of time would go to find her. She was about 7 or 8 years old. Children of her age did not have smart phones in their hands then. It was many years ago. Books Kinokuniya opened a couple of more outlets over the next few years. Closed those down. Downsized their flagship store to almost half its original size. Now, it is downsizing again, to accommodate a café! Make no mistake, I am a huge fan of cafés as well! The very ambience, the aroma of coffee, the company of friends and many a times myself, have always been my favourite haunts. However, they simply can’t replace bookshops. That sounds, well, wrong. I am sure many would share similar views.

That brings me to the question of why? Not why the bookstores all over the world are gradually shutting down, but why are the people who read reducing so very rapidly?

Is the availability or accessibility of e-Books alone the sole reason or even the substantial reason? Or is there a general decline in the love for printed words?

What are the children, young adults and adults engaged in these days? What are the psychologically stimulating activities that people are engaged in these days?

What are the young school going children doing when they have free time? With the number of instructions that are given at every step of the way, are we taking away their agency to think by themselves? “We need stories to understand ourselves” Rushdie, Writing Masterclass. After safety and love, the first thing that a child asks for is a story. Stories are all around us. In small little everyday incidents, to major historical and social transformations, our lives are not short of dramas! And yet we love to hear and tell more. The interesting gossip, the life changing moment, the fabulous trip, the incident at the restaurant, the debate on feminism, the experience in the train after many years, all hold a story within themselves. Waiting to be told, waiting to be heard.
Then why did we stop reading? Working on a school project a few years back, I was having conversations with colleagues and parents on ‘reading’.

To my immense chagrin, many answers were “I used to read when I was younger, now I don’t.” There were no answers to my why’s. During the said project and as a part of it, we had a workshop for the parents, on reading and storytelling. We attempted to share the importance of books, reading, libraries, stories with the parents and its paramount role in shaping the child’s personality and psyche. Many of the teachers sounded forced. Rehearsed. They lacked the conviction to carry the message through. Most of the parents shared, they don’t read! They seldom get books. It would have been unimaginable situation twenty years back. I would see many people in the public transport opening the book at the bookmarked page the moment they got a seat. That’s a rare sight now. A very rare sight. I have also come across this statement, “there is no space at home”, and they are not living from the closet.

The space is often occupied with innumerable clothes, shoes and other essentials. “I have no patience” is another well heard response. Maybe picking something that interests you, would easily address the lack of patience. In school, the hectic curriculum and the zeal to ‘teach’ the children everything has constricted story time. That’s the first thing that is taken away. Readings of number and science takes precedence. Stories are magical. How have we as adults, forgotten about the adventures of Nancy Drew, the detective with an egg-shaped head who would make his grey cells work, Alice as she fell down the rabbit hole, Guy Montag, the fireman who burns books? We, as members of the society, constantly learn from each other.

In social learning theory of development, Bandura emphasises on the role of the adults in society. Children learn from the environment and from others. If they see their family members read, value books, have conversations about them, engage in visiting book fairs and libraries, they will imbibe the trait as well. Children who read, often, have parents who read. I used to ask in my class sometimes, how many of your parents read? It was reassuring to see a least some of them raise their hands and explain their observations.

I still remember one response very vividly. A child of 6 at that time, Yazhini said, “my daddy reads. He brings books from India. Some are old and covered with newspaper”, something many of us are used to do as well, especially with old books! My very kind and long-time assistant, a house help who became a member of my household, had been with me for 14 years. She would often ask me to suggest a read for her from my bookshelves.

She gave books to me and my daughter as gifts on our birthdays as I would give her!
Book shops are a place of belonging for me. One of my favourite places to be when I am in
India are the many bookstores. It used to be the bookfairs during college days. The romantic
exhilaration of those days! My companion by my side. We still visit, but it is dominantly the
bookstores now. Always returning with two or three paper bags. Coming home and going
through the purchases one by one. Letting him write my names in each of them. It is like
someone returning again and again to the same self.

Bookstores are not just a place to hang out. They are the very labyrinths of memory itself. The
past, present and future, dreams, imaginations, ideas, amazements, frustrations, excitement.
We are a dying breed. We the people who are in love with this act of looking through the
shelves, picking out the ones our eyes rest upon, breathing deep into the crisp pages, hugging the
bag close, proud of our purchase. After that sitting in the café and opening them one by one,
with the steaming latte beside!

Back home, finding places for the new members. There is always a place for a loved one!
Cafes are places to meet people. Engage in discourses, conversations, births new ideas and opens
possibilities, form relationships, catch up on one another, laugh and be with friends, talk about
lives.

Bookstores, reading, however enables to form ideas that spark conversations and discourses,
perceive gaps that enables efforts, seek questions that addresses the wrongs, create agency to
look beyond what is shown, forge relationships beyond the realms of known and familiar, create
a new world!

A reading of ‘Untouchable’ would perhaps enable us to investigate the character of ‘Hatoda
Tyagi’ with more objective sensitivity. The systemic violence and the ease with which injustice
dished out over generations to the marginalised is felt deeper than the comment of “it’s so sad!”
Or perhaps the ambition of ‘Tara’ to climb up the social ladder and carve a name for herself, can
be better understood after readings of Deborah Levy’s Cost of Living.

Let’s keep our conversations alive without destroying the agency to question things around us,
imagine, dream!!
Mere chatting and ‘catching up’ would not be sustainable perhaps.
We do not have the time for just ‘catching up over latte’ anymore!

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Search for the lighter skin

The other day I was at the local pharmacy shop, looking for a moisturiser. The easily available tubes or small jars of cream meant for your face and were used on hands as well. I saw rows and rows of brightly packaged small boxes, jars and bottles. There were creams, serums, oils, lotions. Numerous concoctions of magic potions that held the promise of brightening, lightening, illuminating, revitalising and uplifting my skin and different parts of my face during different times of the day!

The one that screamed the loudest, was lightning and brightening formulas.

I was not surprised, just saddened.

We are celebrating International Women’s Day. There are numerous messages on social media. Multiple offers on clothes, accessories and jewellery. Ideas to pamper ourselves, advertisements to boost morale, quotes, songs, flowers, cakes and gym memberships! You name it!

And there are batches of fairness creams and brightening serums manufactured, stored, sold, bought, used!

I am not even going to the other deeper issues of violence against women. The more ‘visible’ acts of being killed, silenced, abused and tortured. They are a visible plague which we are battling with. I want to ponder on the surreptitious miasma that is pervading our existence. The obsession with lighter skin is far more than just being skin deep.

In the song , “Yashomati maiya se…” young Krishna confides his confusion about the different skin tones of himself and his beloved Radha. Imposition of the lighter skin has been on our mind from much before the advent od the fair skinned ‘invaders’. The various settlers, rulers, invaders and colonialists who came to India from as early as 1400’s were relatively lighter skinned than the ‘adivasi’ inhabitants of our land. Our inherent caste system provided much needed fuel to reiterate this deep divide which continues till date. It has been a part of the Indian psyche for a very long time. Too long perhaps. Fair or lighter skin colour was associated with upper castes, affluence and now urbanites and questionably educated elites. On the other hand, darker skin colour was associated with manual labour, poverty, lowers class and caste, villagers and ignorance. The distinction between good and evil represented by black and white, its depiction on light and darkness, doesn’t help the cause at all. A fair bride is still a favoured choice for a suitable match in

the matrimonial columns. The skin colour of the groom might have big room for improvement along with various other aspects!

Mainstream cinema has long perpetuated this ‘dark’ and ‘fair’ divide. Implicitly and most often explicitly. The characters that were the most unsavoury or mundane were dominantly of darker skin tone. That would include all domestic help and those engaged in manual labour. The association of ‘dark skin’ with acts of violence and aggression has been perpetuated over years. This prejudice knows no gender bias. The unconscious tightening of a bag and moving to one side, when a darker skinned ‘poor looking’ person happens to be the co-passenger in a bus, is all but too obviously visible. Though this is not particularly true for Indian societies alone, it need not be used as a justification. It is wrong. It is violence. It is inhuman. The contexts are irrelevant. The prejudice towards women with darker shades of skin tone is stark embedded within our psyche and skin. The ‘very plain looking women’ who work behind the lead actor in a dance sequence in popular cinema, is not a thing of the past! Neither is their obvious difference, in terms of attire and projection. The onus of this appropriation of ‘beauty’ is on film makers and the industry. However, it is often pushed under the blanket of ‘viewer discretion’. The disclaimer at the beginning of the screening hardly washes out the irresponsibility towards a huge section of the fanbase, who make these very projects run! Many would argue that it is ‘cinema’. Unreal. Fictitious. Mere entertainment. The cost and the brunt of it is however very real. Cinemas are a mirror of the social unconscious as societies are a reflection of the cinemas that are being created and watched.

However, one can choose not to look! We, the ‘educated elite’ living in gated communities have mastered this skill. The irresponsibility with which sexism, casteism, gender divide, classism is used to perpetuate this violent divide is immense. The sense of responsibility towards their viewers is not of great concern for the ‘creative creators’ of these content. Creativity has such limited scope at times. They are in the business of entertainment! However, in a country like ours where the ‘screen idols’ are revered and seated on pedestals, complete inaction and irresponsibility is nothing short of compliance to this act of violence on many of the people who have raised them on that very pedestal. Obsession with lighter skin is not a thing of the past. The recent episode titled “Mirror, mirror on the Wall” of the series Made in Heaven, addressed this very concern. The clients were the rich elite of Delhi. The Bluest Eye written in 1970, reflected the desire to have ‘blue eyes’ in a young African American girl, who was deemed ‘ugly’ for her dark skin. Our belief in the beauty of ‘snow white’ reigns in the heart and mind of men, women and society at large. It is a result of many factors like colourism, patriarchy, classism, casteism and residual colonialism Our quest for ‘fairness’ unites us across, gender, race, religion, class, caste, education, societal hierarchy, language and political ideologies!

“Fairness”, could very much become a reason to be seen as one! What a paradox. Being of lighter complexion of two siblings, I recall many instances of our relatives, making comments on the darker skin colour of my younger sister with perfect normalcy and nonchalant attitude! My mother used to be furious, and she made no bones about saying it! She would refuse to take us to the houses of these ‘close and extended family.’

I have two beautiful daughters. The younger one is very fair, and the elder one is a few shades dark. When they were both very young, the comments, “Oh your baby is so fair! Indian?” were the most unnecessary and irrelevant, and they were plenty from passersby. People I did not know and did not have any inclination to know either. My elder one would always reply with her characteristic wit and spunk, “she is half Chinese!” She was about 4 or 5. Little did she know what she was saying. However, the looks on the faces of the people who commented, were priceless!

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Not Wanting to See

Selective seeing and Selective hearing- Selecting living

A bus ride to work. A ‘labour’ sits in the seat vacated. The ‘lady’ in the adjacent seat gets up and leaves. The lingering smell of her perfume wafting past as she takes up a seat at the back. The adjacent seat is occupied by a formally dressed individual. From the attire, looked like the place of work would be an office space.

A family having a meal at the food court. Parents, children, related, by the look of it. Trays of food in front of them, eating, drinking, spilling, climbing all over, intently engaged on their phones. A young girl, not related, seating at the table beside. A little distance away. Sometimes fussing over the children. Sometimes looking at them with vacant eyes. Picking up the toys they are throwing around. Feeding them. There was no tray in front of her. The young girl, not related, by the look of it, a house help.

The warm hugs by the teacher, to the kids in her care. Warm and tight for some. The bright eyed, fair skinned, uniformed with fresh smell of ‘Strawberries kids shampoo’ in their hair and smelling of sunshine. A mere gesture with arms around the child, for others, who smells of sunshine alone. It lacks the heart, the warmth. The eyes that are not met outside the car window when it stops at a traffic signal.

The small hand that stretches out, the ‘clap’ that asks to be seen, the elderly with rheumy eyes and vacant looks. The questioning looks given to someone who does not have that ‘airport look’. The turning down of certain patrons at the boutique outlets in upscale shopping spaces. The many times we go about choosing not to see, choosing not to speak! Our ability, or inability, to see is subjective. Just as we do what we wish to do and learn what we wish to learn, we see what we wish to see. Perception is not innate. It is acquired. Learnt. Practiced. Over the years. Over contexts.

We all are partially visually impaired, and it is a matter of choice.

To See and not to see?

We are deep rooted in our beliefs. Belief of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, belief of ‘trust and mistrust’, belief of ‘us and them’, belief of ‘good and bad’.

Our belief systems are a part of our inherent nature and acquired nature as well. We are born in certain belief systems and walking through life, knowingly and unwittingly, we imbibe a lot from our surroundings. Our surroundings of people and places. Of cultures and languages. Surroundings of contexts. Surroundings of gender.

Behaviour is often born from these beliefs, feeding into each other, in a perfect symbiosis. They are nurtured, shaped, altered, rearranged and restructured by the different belief ecosystem that we find ourselves in throughout our lives.

It is the belief in the understanding of ‘good and bad’ that makes us unsee the grey. Dividing actions into watertight compartments of acceptable and unacceptable. A mother who sacrifices her desires is acceptable and hence ‘good’. A mother who chooses her desires and dreams, could have been a little bit adjusting perhaps! A better understanding of her new ‘role’ would have been ‘good’. We do not get a rejection outright for choosing our dreams these days, its often the health of the family, upbringing of the children, the half-eaten lunch boxes, the desire to feed that ‘home cooked meal’ made by the wife and mother that does the job! “Born to make laddoos”, was not a mere dialogue. It reflected a belief system, working relentlessly, irrespective of discernible differences in class, caste, city, economic hierarchy and educational qualification. We seldom question these exchanges often missing them in the glossed over outer surface of movies, advertisements, stories, narratives and understandings. ‘Unseeing’ or not seeing is not pertained to the gender question alone.

The rickshaw puller denied of his meagre earnings, the shabby looking individual served last in a roadside tea stall, if there happens to be someone, visibly different, the sharp words of cleaning that corner of a room, not letting our children ‘mix’ with everyone in the neighbourhood park are all incidents of ‘not seeing’.

The separate ‘service elevators’ in many apartments perpetuates the class divide of who can stand beside you in the same space. It also pertains to ‘dog owners’ when they are taking out their dears for a walk. Many a times, happy Husky and Golden Retriever’ do join the other residents in the elevators ‘not meant for them’.

These breeds are not inexpensive. An assumption that their ‘owners’ are ignorant, callous, illiterate (this is often written in bold in the lifts) is perhaps not the full story. Can it be completed with, they just ‘does not care’? It won’t be too harsh, I hope! Not consuming food from certain households for religious, caste-based reasons and ‘types of food’ consumed, is seen, tolerated, participated, justified and practiced every day under a million pretexts. These are violence. Committed every day, in many ways, relentlessly, consistently,

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