#Chat with women in chennai

[affairlove]

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[fondhopeindia]

[metamatar]

When electronics manufacturing took off in China in the 1980s, rural women who had just begun moving to the cities made up the majority of the factory workforce. They didn’t have many other options. Managers at companies like Foxconn preferred to hire women because they believed them to be more obedient [...]

Hiring a young, female workforce in India comes with its own requirements — which include reassuring doting parents about the safety of their daughters. The company offers workers free food, lodging, and buses to ensure a safe commute at all hours of the day. On days off, women who live in Foxconn hostels have a 6 p.m. curfew; permission is required to spend the night elsewhere. “[If] they go out and not return by a specific time, their parents would be informed,” a former Foxconn HR manager told Rest of World. “[That’s how] they offer trust to their parents.”

[...] the Tamil Nadu government sent a strong signal welcoming Foxconn and other manufacturers: Authorities approved new regulations that would increase workdays from eight to 12 hours. This meant that Foxconn and other electronics factories would be able to reduce the number of shifts needed to keep their production line running from three to two, just like in China. [...] Political parties aligned with the government called the bill “anti-labor” and, during the vote, walked out of the legislative assembly. After the bill passed, trade unions in the state announced a series of actions including a demonstration on motorbikes, civil disobedience campaigns, and protests in front of the ruling party’s local headquarters. The government shelved its new rule within four days.

Indian Foxconn workers told Rest of World that eight hours under intense pressure is already hard to bear. “I’ll die if it’s 12 hours of work,” said Padmini, the assembly line worker.

For the expatriate workers, the slower pace of the factory floors in India is its own shock to the system. A Taiwanese manager at a different iPhone supplier in the Chennai area told Rest of World that India’s 8-hour shifts and industry-standard tea breaks were a drag on production. “You have barely settled in on your seat, and the next break comes,” the manager lamented.

In China, Foxconn relies on lax enforcement of the country’s labor law — which limits workdays to eight hours and caps overtime — as well as lucrative bonuses to get employees to work 11 hours a day during production peaks [...] five Chinese and Taiwanese workers said they were surprised to discover that their Indian colleagues refused to work overtime. Some attributed it to a weak sense of responsibility; others to what they perceived as Indian people’s low material desire. “They are easily content,” an engineer deployed from Zhengzhou said. “They can’t handle even a bit more pressure. But if we don’t give them pressure, then we won’t be able to get everything right and move production here in a short time.” [...] At the same time, the expat staff enjoy the Indian work culture of tea breaks, chatting with colleagues, and going home on time. They recognize they are helping the company spread a Chinese work culture that they know can be unhealthy. [...]

On the assembly line, Foxconn’s targets were tough to reach, workers said. Jaishree, 21, joined the iPhone shop floor in 2022 as a recent graduate with a degree in mathematics. (With India’s high level of unemployment, Foxconn’s assembly line has plenty of women with advanced degrees, including MBAs.) [...] “At the start, during my eight-hour shift, I did about 300 [screws]. Now, I do 750,” she said. “We have to finish within time, otherwise they will scold us.” [...]

Mealtimes are an issue, too. In December 2021, thousands of Indian Foxconn employees protested after some 250 colleagues contracted food poisoning. In response, the company changed food contractors, and increased its monthly base salary from 14,000 rupees to 18,000 rupees ($168 to $216) — double the minimum wage prescribed by the Tamil Nadu labor department for unskilled workers. [...]

Working conditions take a physical toll. Padmini has experienced hair loss because she has to wear a skull cap and work in air-conditioned spaces, she said. “Neck pain is the worst, since we are constantly bending down and working.” She has irregular periods, which she attributes to the air conditioning and the late shifts. “[Among] girls with me on the production line, some six girls have this problem,” Padmini said. Workers said they regularly see colleagues become unwell. “The day before yesterday, a girl fainted and they took her to the hospital,” [...] Padmini, at 26, believes she is close to the age where the company might consider her too old. “They used to hire women up to age 30, now they hire only up to 28,” she said.

[sunmarketing]

"Table for One: Dining Tips and Tricks for Solo Female Travelers"

  "Savoring Solitude: Women's Guide to Eating Out Alone While Traveling"

  "Table for One: Dining Tips and Tricks for Solo Female Travelers"

You have three meals a day, and you are solo. What do you do to enjoy these meals by yourself? You can have some great times if you follow these tips, or maybe you can add more tips for other travelers.

Eating out alone can be a rewarding and enjoyable experience for solo travelers, including women aged 60 and above. Here are some tips to make dining alone more comfortable and enjoyable:

Choose the Right Restaurant: Choose restaurants with a welcoming atmosphere and friendly staff. Look for establishments that cater to solo diners and offer comfortable seating options. You can find them on websites before you go or make reservations. When I was in Florence, Italy, I asked the hostel for a recommendation for a pizza restaurant, and they said Gusta was the best. I got a pizza for myself and a second one to return to the hostel, and I was greeted with a massive hug

Avoid busy or Peak Hours, so ask if you’re unsure which they are. Consider dining during off-peak hours to avoid crowds and long wait times. Lunchtime or early dinner hours are often quieter and more relaxed, making it easier to enjoy your meal in peace. I ate an early dinner in Chennai at a local diner. I asked for no chilis, but it was still spicy hot with chilis. I managed to eat it along with my peanut butter.

Bring a Book or Electronic Device: Bring a book, e-reader, or smartphone to entertain yourself while waiting for your meal. Reading can help you feel more comfortable and confident dining alone. I listen with earbuds and enjoy podcasts and my recordings of conversations with my mom, who died years ago when I travel.

Engage with the Staff: Discuss with the server or bartender if you feel comfortable doing so. They can provide recommendations, share local insights, and make you feel more at ease. A smile will get you started, and after that, just ask a question you may have about the food, the restaurant, or the city. In the Philippines, in El Nido, my server/bartender explained to me that he was a temp worker and he was finished with his shift. His pay included room and board.

Sit at the Bar: Sitting at the bar can be an excellent option for solo diners, offering a more casual and interactive dining experience. You can chat with the bartender or fellow patrons and enjoy watching the action in the kitchen, which can be very entertaining to a solo traveler like me. One restaurant chain lets you sit in the kitchen to watch the meal preparation. See the show notes.

https://www.indiatvnews.com/news/india/yearender-2023-tragic-accidents-in-2023-road-rail-accidents-odisha-coromandel-express-andhra-pradesh-train-collision-tragedy-latest-updates-2023-12-22-908419

Practice Self-Confidence: Remember that dining alone is nothing unusual or embarrassing. Hold your head high, exude confidence, and enjoy the freedom to choose where and what to eat without compromise. I sometimes talk to myself to build my confidence when solo eating.

Stay Safe: Be mindful of your surroundings and trust your instincts when dining alone. Choose well-lit and populated restaurants, avoid sharing personal information with strangers, and secure your belongings. Don’t leave your purse on the back of your chair.

Celebrate Solo Dining: View dining alone as an opportunity for self-care and empowerment. Treat yourself to a delicious meal, savor the experience, and celebrate your independence as a solo traveler.

  Connect with Dr. Travelbest

Drmarytravelbest.com

Dr. Mary Travelbest Twitter

Dr. Mary Travelbest Facebook Page

Dr. Mary Travelbest Facebook Group

Dr. Mary Travelbest Instagram

Dr. Mary Travelbest Podcast

Dr. Travelbest on TikTok

Dr.Travelbest onYouTube

  Check out this Dr Travelbest episode!

[indiangigoloclubi]

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[parida-tours-and-travels]

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[brostateexam]

Mohan wrote me a Tamil love poem.

Rega Jha, unparvai en mele vilathaa, ne en kitta vanthu ninathaa, en dehgam suda marathaa, Rega Jha.

I found it in my Twitter “Message Requests.” Translated to English, the poem reads: “Rega Jha, won’t you let your gaze fall on me? If you come stand close to me, my body temperature will rise, Rega Jha.”

It’s the kind of message that, 15 years ago, I might’ve screenshotted and shared with girl classmates for a laugh. Bonding over the “creeps” in our social media inboxes was an early internet experience for us, where “us” was girl teens from affluent families, enrolled in English-medium schools, born and raised in urban India; and “creeps” were boys and men we didn’t know, who had made an overture, usually in broken English or a vernacular language, on social media.

I can’t remember my first creep, nor, sadly, can I remember how seeing that first message felt. What I do remember is being 12 and 13 years old, feeling flattered and impatient to tell my friends about my inbox hauls, anticipating their cracking up with me at every “Will u do franship?” and “Lukin nice.” I remember the crackle-beep-trill of dial-up modems punctuating sleepover giggling, PC screen glowing in semi-dark, our parents asleep in the next room. I remember comparing inboxes with prettier friends, hoping (anxiously! insecurely!) that the creeps had come through for me. And bless them, they always did. As we made our way from Hi5 in 2005 and 2006, to Orkut in 2006 and 2007, and finally to Facebook where we practiced seeing and being seen for a decade, the creeps came everywhere.

To be clear, though, Mohan is not a creep.

Mohan is a 26-year-old software engineer who sincerely wants to build friendships with women and is open to more-than, but he specifically doesn’t want to creep anyone out. When we spoke on the phone, he was pacing the terrace of his family home in the small Tamil Nadu town where he grew up, and where he’d returned last year when the first lockdown began. He told me about a girl he once messaged on Facebook with whom he ended up chatting for days. When her responses grew shorter, Mohan perceived a drop in interest. He stopped trying to keep the conversation alive. “I was definitely interested in her but I didn’t want to freak her out,” he said. “I don’t want to freak any girl out by sending messages often.”

We do tend to get freaked out, and for good reason. Mainstream Indian portrayals of heterosexual romance unambiguously charge men with initiating courtships, but they either fail to account for consent or, famously, encourage violating it. Meanwhile women, each of us having experienced a rattling array of violations at the hands of male strangers, have been conditioned to simultaneously expect to be (even long to be) pursued, and to be wary of our male pursuers. For us, this means the work of finding love is impossibly tied up with the work of avoiding danger. For Mohan and other well-intentioned men, “the problem comes in finding a border,” he said. “If we cross the border, it will feel like we’re stalking the girl. But if we aren’t reaching the border means our existence won’t be known to the girl.”

So when it comes to DMs, Mohan makes creative attempts to break through the clutter of ‘Hellos’ he correctly presumes is piling up in women’s inboxes. In my case, he’d seen that a childhood photo I’d posted on Instagram was geo-tagged to Chennai so he thought a Tamil rhyme might do the trick. “My initial thought was just to get your attention,” he told me. When I asked why he wanted it, Mohan said he saw me as a “crush.” In one message he’d sent long before we spoke, he’d written: “I love ur style & and I love ur attitude.” Genuinely flattered, I thanked him now on the phone. He laughed. He didn’t actually message me in hopes of a romance, he explained. Among his guy friends, it’s fairly normal to send social media messages to women they don’t know, “just for friendship.” (x)

I cannot recommend this (very long) article about love and online culture in India highly enough.

[fictionfromafar]

Cold Sun by Anita Sivakumaran

Cold Sun

By Anita Sivakumaran

Dialogue Books

Publication Date 12 August 2021.

Cold Sun marks the start of a new crime series featuring DI Vijay Patel by Anita Sivakumaran. Based in the London Metropolitan Police, Patel has previously solved the case of The Dales Ripper during a posting in Yorkshire some three years before the start of this story. Yet there is a feeling that he is treading water in London when his superintendent calls him to his office. Patel is told that he will be sent to Bangalore in India to help the Indian police to solve the murder of the ex-wife of the British foreign minister. While he is told that out of 24 homicide detectives, he is the right man for the job, he is left with the suspicion that he is actually the one with the right skin colour. In fact Patel was born in Leicester to parents who came from Uganda while his grandparents came from Gujarat which located on India’s Arabian Sea western coast. The only time he had previously been to India was to play in a cricket tournament 10 years earlier.

Landing in Bangalore (referred to the novel as Bengaluru), he encounters initial confusion about his identity from the city police chief Rajkumar before resentment that this British detective has been sent. “The Bengaluru police force with its hundred and seventy detectives isn’t enough. It isn’t equipped with such prowess, such brains as you Mr Patel”.

While Rajkumar is hard to please, Patel does manage to develop what appears to be a more satisfactory working relationship with Assistant Commissionaire Chandra Subramanium buy referring to his role as that of a consultant. As Chandra has studied Criminology at Cardiff University she has a better understanding of his Britishness, although reprimands him for not speaking more clearly to her fellow Indians. She is also far too keen to use her ‘lathi’ baton when questioning suspects for his liking, claiming his superior morals make him ‘a white man in dark skin’.

Author Sivakumaran has previously published 3 titles including The Queen which was made into a high profile television series. Born in Madras, now known as Chennai, her descriptions of modern day India really give Cold Sun a strong sense of setting. The below describes Patel’s introduction to the police station:

"They passed police lockups populated by lowlifes and prostitutes. Habitués, he supposed. They huddled or lounged chatting or silent. Many stared at him as he passed. Chemical and metal smells: the ammonia in urine saturating the bricks, the metallic sourness of human sweat on iron bars. The stink of desperation, the musk of apathy. Bare bulbs glinted. Pan juice, the colour of old blood stained the walls.”

It's not a particularly pleasant beginning to the trip for Patel who is also reflecting on his unsatisfactory relationship with his girlfriend back in London. Unlike southern Indians he also struggles with the spicy food. It soon becomes evident that the police are looking for a serial killer who is targeting women of a high social standing in Bengaluru. There is a memorable scene where Patel is rating the women on their attractiveness to consider if this could be a link.

Patel’s presence brings unwanted personal attention to him from the press with news reports that even hark back to his professional cricket playing days. He is not aided by Rajkumar’s insistence on regular press conferences which seem to be geared towards his own self-preservation. When the deaths become more frequent and one has a tenuous link to Patel, could it be that the police chief will use him as a scapegoat for their failure to progress in capturing the killer?

In addition to the investigation, Sivakumaran strongly reveals life in a city on the border between Karnataka and Tamil Nadu where the locals speak either the Kannada or Tamil languages. It’s a place where the population as a whole appear more trusting of the British than politicians in New Delhi. A city where first world technology does not always function with a third world infrastructure. Yet one where answering a mobile phone call or message apparently is the most normal or crucial of activities irrespective of what the person is doing at the time. In some aspects it is more progressive, in Chandra's team the male police officers are subordinate to her with no sign of resentment, in contrast to the UK.

At its best Cold Sun immerses the reader into the unfamiliar sights and sounds of Bangalore where Patel has to deal with people from a range of social classes with often unexpected or unpredictable results. The situation almost becomes too much for our main protagonist yet when he starts to believe Chandra is in danger, the novels speeds up to an exciting finale where the identity of the killer.

Cold Sun is an enjoyable novel which I feel realistically and effectively portrays a stranger in a strange land. I did feel that perhaps there were a few unnecessary steps, such as Patel’s trip to Goa which while valid as it did reveal some very outdated British views towards India, did appear slotted in and somewhat interrupted the flow of the story. I’d perhaps have enjoyed a bit more urgency within the storyline at times but that might be due to personal preference. The key attraction to the novel was following a British born detective's participation in solving a crime in India and I would certainly recommend Cold Sun on that basis. I am interested to see where Sivakumaran intends to take Patel’s character in subsequent novels as the challenge will be to maintain such a level of intrigue.

Many thanks to Random Things Tours and Dialogue Books for an advance copy of Cold Sun. Please look out for the other reviews of this book on the blog tour as shown below.

[affairlove]

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[fondhopeindia]

[almostdarktrash]

Melodies, memories and a goblet of rose wine!

HYPNAGOGIA. Yes, that's the word. 

It's 9.30 at night.

The warm light from the cluster pendant gleams beautifully ...

Abhi na jaao chhod kar...ke dil abhi bhara nahi.... the mellifluous Bhavya Pandit sets the backdrop....  

The brilliant rose wine smiles prettily from the goblet; it summons me.....

I readily yield. A few gentle sips..... i close my eyes....

As I  steered into the commercial complex on Nungambakkam High Road in Chennai this morning, a bawling man in blue uniform, after guiding an S-cross into the parking lot, galumphed up to me and gestured to roll the window down. "Enga saar poringa?" (Where are you going). "DVS," I said. He demurred for a while, but then thanks to a DVS-er, he loathly allowed me to park. 

The plush interiors of DVS Consultants on the sixth floor starkly contrasted the concrete heap, styled 'Apex' Plaza. I was there at the invite of my friend, Divakar, a handsome young man, who is the founder CEO of the international tax consultancy firm, to meet his team of young and bright professionals over a cuppa - and to "share my experience as a journalist".

I never thought that one day someone would  want to have a chat with an ordinary journalist from the print medium - who is usually portrayed in movies as someone thin, bespectacled, kurta-clad, jhola toting, with dishevelled hair and a worn-out pair of chappals - after he seized to be one. 

After exchanging 'hi's and smiles with a few along the passage, I ensconced myself on a swanky, leather-upholstered sofa in the cozy corner room. As I was waiting for Divakar, I slipped into that state. It was neither a state of wakefulness nor sleep. But it was pleasant. 

A few months after the financial daily was formally launched, one fine evening, my News Editor, Ashok Reddy, asked  me if i would care for a fag. It was drizzling then. I love rain. I love the way it blurs the outline of things, as life blurs the future. He said he too loved it. He spoke about his childhood in a small village in the then united Andhra. As we were strolling, he casually asked me how old I was. I said. He immediately burst into laughter and said, "you have a long way to go, pa". 

"Why, Ashok," I asked him, "Why are you laughing?"

"Ravi," he said, "I would happily retire in another 7...or...8 years. But, you have a long way to go."

I said I did not mind, as I liked the profession. Then the conversation branched out to that day's news stories, edits and other topics such as why cotton was called "king" cotton and so on. From that day, we hardly missed that evening stroll. Whenever I happened to be in the office at that time, we would surely step out for that relaxed time.  He taught me a lot. That was my formative period. My years as a journalist were really beautiful. I learnt a lot from many people - from different walks of life. I learnt to groom myself, learnt to ask all those critical questions without embarrassing the other, learnt to listen, learnt to write, made many a friend, travelled a lot. 

But, I never thought that "long way" would come to an end so soon. I never thought my journo journey would come to a grinding halt; never thought I would resign and quit the profession - for good.  Implausible, to think. As a bolt from the blue, one fine day, the curtain came down on all that. I decided to quit, and I did. 

"Hi Ravi," Divakar shook me out. "Shall we go?"

Maybe a little over 20 audience, comprising men and women- in their mid-twenties to early thirties - were there. Our interaction went on for an hour or so. I had an opportunity to recall and almost relive a few good moments.  I really don't know how useful was the session for them. But, I had a nice time. I .... t.h.o.r.o.u.g.h.I.y....enjoyed it. I am still wondering what prompted Divakar to invite me!

Lag jaa gale..Lag ja gale ki phir..ye hasin raat ho na ho....It's Jonita Gandhi now.

Anyway, thank you, Divakar, for the time well spent.

[fondhopeindia]

[expatimes]

How a surfing revolution is riding the wave in India

Murthy Meghavan is a former fisherman who is now a surfing instructor at Covelong Beach in Kovalam, a coastal village 40km from the southern Indian city of Chennai.

He had been riding the waves before he even knew it was an actual sport but had never aspired to surf professionally. As a child, he used an old wooden plank that had washed ashore, once a part of someone’s door, as a makeshift surfboard.

In 2007, a 20-minute chat with Jack Hebner, hailed by locals as the “surfing swami” for his passion for yoga, Hinduism and surfing, changed Meghavan’s life.

In 2004, Hebner had established India’s first surfing school, the Mantra Surf Club in Mangaluru. Fascinated by Hebner’s carbon-fibre board, Meghavan mustered up enough courage to ask him if he could borrow it.

“When I went surfing with it, it felt like I was floating on a cloud,” 47-year-old Meghavan, who now runs his own surfing school at Kovalam, told Al Jazeera.

Many of the students he teaches are children of fisherfolk from low-income families.

Sekar Pachai, 29, is another fisherman-turned-professional-surfer from the same village who has won several championships at home and abroad.

When Pachai first began surfing, corporate sponsors made it possible for him to turn pro, he says, adding that it is very difficult for someone from an underprivileged background to make it as a competitive surfer without support.

Despite the country’s 7,000km of coastline, not all beaches provide the ideal conditions to surf

Finding a decent surfboard is often the first obstacle. A foam or fibreglass board for beginners can cost between $150 and $1,000. A professional board can cost upwards of $1,500.

Even if you could afford it, surfboards were stocked in India’s sporting goods stores only in the last five years. Prior to this, a good board was more likely to find its way via foreigners.

In 2003, an Australian surfer gifted a battered board to a child in Meghavan’s village.

When Meghavan realised the kid did not care for it much, Meghavan paid him 1,500 Indian rupees ($31.4 at the time) to buy it from him. But he did not have an ankle leash so he used his fishing rope which alarmingly wound itself around his neck whenever he fell.

President of the Surfing Federation of India (SFI), Arun Vasu, feels regular financial support for the sport would help carve its future trajectory in India as it is funded by private donors and corporate sponsors only.

Despite the country’s 7,000km (4,350 miles) of coastline, not all beaches provide the ideal conditions to surf. The lack of sponsorship also affect surfers in restricting travel for training under different wave conditions.

“To be on par with a global surfing community, Indians need training in all-wave conditions and to travel in the global surfing circuit,” said Vasu. “Without adequate funding, this won’t happen.”

Even within the country, travel expenses can mount.

Surfers must practise in the few beaches where encountering bigger waves is possible – Mahabalipuram and Kovalam in Tamil Nadu, Varkala in Kerala, Mulki and Gokarna in Karnataka, coastal Pondicherry and Goa.

These waves are seasonal – between May and September – and even during the peak season, these beaches do not offer as wild a wave as you can encounter in Playa Grande in Costa Rica, Jeffreys Bay, South Africa, Bell’s Beach in Australia, Uluwatu in Bali, or Huntington Beach in California.

The surfing community in India is small and tends to be spread out over the country.

Very few women – the SFI estimates their number is at eight to 10 across the country – have taken up the sport

Surfing festivals are held in Kovalam, Mangaluru and Orissa, drawing attention to the sport, attracting sponsors and helping professional surfers meet and compare notes.

India has an estimated 40 surfing schools. Vasu estimates that there are only 100 to 120 professional surfers. The others are enthusiasts who love the waters, take occasional lessons and who enjoy surfing for leisure.

Srikanth Dhanashekar, 16, is a son of a fisherman in Kovalam.

His day starts at 7am with a gruelling training schedule that lasts four hours. But he does not mind the aches and pains.

“Surfing gives me such joy,” said Dhanashekar. “I feel one with the sky and the sea. I can’t imagine my day without it and my dream is to represent India in the Olympics someday.”

While diverse athletes from fishing communities are finding their footing in the sport, there is one area in which it continues to lack representation: gender.

Very few women – the SFI estimates their number is at eight to 10 across the country – have taken up the sport.

Even those who do surf confront many difficulties and prejudices head on.

Ishita Malaviya, 32, began surfing in 2007, becoming the first professional female surfer in the country.

Ishita Malaviya, India’s first female professional surfer

When she started competing, her goal was to represent women at events. While still in college, she and a friend would surf on weekends, boarding a bus at 5am, lugging an eight-foot second-hand surfboard to the beach in Manipal, in the southern Indian state of Karnataka.

“The board took up the combined backrest of eight seats on the bus. People would have to lean on it while sitting,” said Malaviya.

Curious and amused, other passengers would ask her questions about surfing, so at least it sparked conversations.

Sinchana Gowda, 20, crossed over to surfing from professional swimming and has been winning national awards since the age of 13.

But intrusive questions about the way she dresses when surfing in a wetsuit or shorts have been much harder for her, she says.

India’s first surfer girl Ishita Malaviya cuts through waves uncaring of her darkening skin or stereotypes, truly going against the flow! pic.twitter.com/HEzxRGXFfA

— oomna (@oomnawhodares) October 24, 2017

Suhasini Damian, 29, from Auroville in Pondicherry, is a national award-winning surfer coached by her husband, a surf instructor who shaped her red and pink board for her, customising it to her body weight for easy manoeuvrability.

Strangers have walked up to her to tell her that if she spends too much time in the sun, her skin would tan beyond recognition.

She has never felt comfortable surfing alone because she has had to contend with drunken men, lewd comments, catcalls and whistles.

India’s lack of a beach culture meant that female surfers were often singled out, says Malaviya.

But she hopes that will change as more women discover the joys of surfing.

“I’ve found my surfing family but I’m still striving for a surfing sisterhood,” said Malaviya.

The family Malaviya refers to are fishermen and their children, who, in 2012, helped her and a business partner set up a surfing club near Udipi, Karnataka, transforming a dilapidated abandoned home into a warm, inviting resort.

“Surfing dissolved all our barriers as they welcomed us – strangers – into their community. It reminds me of how in front of a mighty ocean, we are all equals.”

India’s lack of a beach culture meant that female surfers were often singled out, said Malaviya

Read full article: https://expatimes.com/?p=19278&feed_id=38759

[malapkv]

Who decides the expiry date of a woman's dreams?

That was the question inspired by her mother's life,that the daughter asks in school which fetches her mother a meeting with the President of India. How Old are you was the film in Malayalam and 36 Vayadhinile in Tamil.

I was watching Putham Puthu Kaalai- the anthology film on Amazon Prime. And was particularly touched by the thatha who refuses to forgive his son-in-law for putting an end to his daughter's possibly illustrious singing career.

Also was having a chat with my doctor. A brahmin lady who has managed to become a very successful medical doctor simply because she did not grow up in Tamil Nadu. ( another topic by itself) But was married into a Tam Brahm family in Chennai. Today she is a brilliant consultant who her patients refuse to trade for anyone else.

But when she was "married off" she had to literally beg to do her higher studies in medicine. And it didn't stop there. Since hers was an arranged marriage she had to mop, sweep, clean, cook and maintain a house of 5000 square feet all by herself without a maid, aside from practicing and finding her feet in the brahmin - bashing- one step short of murdering- world of Tamil Nadu.

These are not stories of exception. These are everyday stories of otherwise smart and successful women who, sign up willingly to be treated like maids so they have the security and social acceptance of "marriage" in the long run. After all what is a woman if she is not married "on time" and has produced babies on time?

And most often than not, the husbands happen to be douche-bags who would stifle the spirit of the woman who gave up her everything to be married to him. Not because he deserved her but because the socially constructed norms, so much in favour of the man, facilitated and made it easy for him to find a professionally educated ultra smart woman who will also do a maid's job - just because that's what's accepted... And that's the done thing.

Except that some fathers.... Like the one in Putham Puthu Kaalai think different for their daughters. Amidst the average fathers who push the daughter into the marriage so " Their duties are done with" There are those who boldly say NO because that's not what they want for their girl.

And thanks to these fathers, some strong independent women learn to live solo and responsibly solo at that.

It is just that the society would never understand this and continuously harass the family until they also fall into the marriage trap. And sometimes unfairly blame the father for being a very irresponsible one, even much after his death.

Douche-bags aside. It is thanks to these wonderful father-men that some women are still free!