The Naked Woman

 

The woman was naked. From a distance of about two hundred metres, I was able to catch only a glimpse of her. As it happened, I was walking towards her and would, in a few moments, be able to see her clearly.

Even from that distance, I had no doubt about her nudity. She WAS naked, exhibiting her glory right on the divider of the busy Bishtupur road in Jamshedpur, right at quarter to nine in the morning of a weekday, right in the midst of cars, auto-rickshaws, cycle-rickshaws, cycles, and pedestrians.

I started walking faster. The curiosity and excitement of a twenty-five years old unmarried man had taken control of me. My moccasins were not great for walking on the pavement, the briefcase in my left hand had started banging against my left knee, the road was uphill and the effort was negating the effect of the antiperspirant; but these impediments were too minor to dampen my determination to have a good look at the woman before she vanished from the scene.

It was 1982. Or, 1981, perhaps. I was no stranger to public nudity. I had envied the lack of inhibition of the effervescent women bathing with hardly any clothes in the canals of Bargarh in Sambalpur. I had witnessed men do a full Monty near the wells in Bastar. I had seen hordes of bare-breasted women laughing and walking on the hills of Singhbhum. I was aware of the custom of nudity in Nagaland and had interacted with blouse-less women who nonchalantly went about their daily chores in the plains of Bengal, Bihar, Uttar Pradesh and Orissa. There was no sense of shame, guilt or perversion associated with the public display of nudity. It was natural, a part of the culture in those regions.

The naked woman was hardly twenty meters away from me now. On the pretext of shifting my briefcase from the left hand to the right, I stopped to have a good look at her. Alluring, curvaceous, gorgeous, hedonistic, licentious, voluptuous, young … no, these adjectives don’t do justice to her.

She was paper thin and oak-dark. Pouches of loose skin were all that she had as breasts. Her hair was short and thin and wet and white. She was rubbing her eyes and tears were glistening on her sunken cheeks. Her only vestige, a discoloured and torn sari, was hanging on the divider grill for drying up. Till the cloth became wearable again, the freshly-bathed homeless poor woman had no choice but to stand naked and cry in shame.

Somehow, she passed on her shame to me. And more than forty years later, I share it with you. Can we really do something substantive to cover the shame of women? Isn’t it overdue?

 

  

The Victimised Offender

 

It's a fairly recent incident. The emergency door next to a politician in an aircraft opens. The slide chutes get automatically deployed. There is mayhem all over. Boarding is stopped, the plane is evacuated, safety protocol is followed, and the flight takes off after two hours. The poor politician is victimised. It transpires that his hand had "accidentally touched the door" because of which it had got "slightly disturbed from its position". It was not his fault that the flight was delayed. An elderly passenger even reportedly blessed the politician, "Beta (son), it is your karma and our karma that something mischievous didn't happen and you found out." See! Do you still need an explanation after that? If anything requires to be done at all, it is slapping a hefty penalty on the airline for installing such sensitive doors that open with just a touch.

Politicians and their relatives are often victimised. Their batchmates are not. I learnt it the hard way. My engineering batchmate happened to be the son-in-law of a minister. He often wore three-piece suits to the class but didn't waste time on studies or small talk with others. Our electrical engineering practicals were conducted in teams of two, and, guess what? He completed my team one day! Resigned to fate, I was doing everything alone. The suit-clad boy confined himself to noting down readings, taking tour of the laboratory, and fiddling with the controls of the idle apparatus. Suddenly, a bang brought me to a standstill. I looked around. There stood the desi dapper, next to a heavy duty induction motor with a freshly snapped lifting hook on its top, the remains of which dangled like an ominous pendulum from a chain on an overhead pulley! I walked to him and asked, "How did that happen?" "You did that, you should know!" he declared and walked away nonchalantly with hands thrust deep in his suit pockets.       

Talking of my engineering college days, I remember another batchmate. Belonging to the sports quota, he often talked about his escapades in the football field. I was always eager to watch him play and score a goal. It took a long wait of eight months for the fulfilment of my wish. I started watching the match from a vantage spot. My batchmate's team attacked three or four times in the initial fifteen minutes, but he wasn't a part of the assault team. So, where was he? It took me some time to spot him, much behind others and limping in pain. He didn't play that match further. Or, matches in the next, or the next, or the next year. In the world of uncertainty, injury to this star player in every match was certain. He passed his engineering course without playing a single game in full. What could he do? A good player can defend himself against offensive players only to a reasonable extent.

The other day I had to travel in a friend's car. Our journey started with the car chassis rubbing the pavement with a loud noise and my friend cursing, "Oh! What was the need to park it so close?" The friend's spouse had parked the car the previous night. So far as I remember, the parking was perfect, exactly between the marking lines. The fault lay with the friend, who had taken a turn too early. But it was nothing new. In the past too I have travelled with this friend with the rear wheel riding rough over pavements, dividers, and other roadside structures. When my friend drives a vehicle, the front wheels obey traffic rules and the rear ones break it. I can hardly blame the friend for the democratic disposition of the wheels.

My residential complex houses about ninety families. Hardly a week passes when we are not awaken early in the morning by the smoke alarm. The alarm usually originates from the same flat every time. The occupants of the flat deny any wrongdoing and explain that Indian food cannot be cooked reasonably well without the emission of an impressive volume of smoke. So what if more than three quarter residents in the building are Indians who manage to cook food without triggering any alarm!

I am sure, you would be having your version of similar incidents to share. I wonder, why does it hurt our ego to accept that we, too, can be wrong? Even when we are sure about being wrong, why don't we acknowledge it? Some people perfect the act so well that they completely ignore facts and refuse parts of the situation that display their fault. Justification of crime under the shelter of religion has also become a norm these days. Some play the victim card so often that one gets bored of the repeated drama. The smarter ones manipulate others with overly emotional means, shift blame, and also earn a lot of sympathy. And then, there is always a bunch of rogues who silence critics by shouting, gaslighting, telling outright lies, accusing, diverting attention, and arguing about the argument!

Beware of the colleague, who, in the name of helping, takes you to the boss and says with a smirk, "Sir, my colleague here wants such and such facility in spite of my telling ..." It is a win-win situation for the smarty. If the boss rejects the request, the smarty earns brownie points for having already warned you, and if the boss accepts the request, the smartass gets projected as an excellent team player.

A clever guy always used to keep some stupid staff under him. The purpose? Whenever something went wrong, he used to pass the blame on to the poor chaps. The sacrificial goat was replaced every time and the clever guy used to go scot free. The trick worked successfully for many years.   

It's not uncommon to find people who blame others. And it's also not uncommon to find people who don't trust such narcissists and even hate them. You can be honest about yourself, accept the reality, acknowledge your weaknesses, and find ways for improvement. Or, you can continue doing injustice to yourself and block avenues for improvement. Decide, what would you like to be? The victimised offender, or the honest human?

The Blind Follower

            A professor was praising an individual. Having committed several blunders, the individual, in my opinion, did not deserve to be idolised. As I tried to present my views, the professor remarked, "I see! So, you follow his opponent."

How conveniently was I labelled as an "opponent" of the individual! And, that too, by a learned person. I changed the topic, but the experience left me wondering: why do people find it so easy to idolise people? Why can't they examine, accept and appreciate people like normal human beings? Why can't they accept healthy criticism? Why is it necessary for one to belong to a particular camp? Why can't one be neutral, in possession of one's senses?

 

I find it very amusing when someone claims, "My daddy is the best in the world!" What makes them release such a ridiculous statement? Have they met all the daddies in the world? Obviously, no! Such exaggerations please whom? What purpose do they serve? Who are they fooling?

"Best daddy in the world" is just an example. Replace "daddy" with the name of a politician, boss, sports person, movie personality, guru, writer, etc., and it would still ring true to many of us. Isn't it funny?

It is funnier when one realises that the idoliser has little idea about the object of worship, and most of the notions are misplaced. Many people take offence when I say that Vivekananda smoked cigarettes and ate mutton and fish. I am labelled mad when I declare that George Eliot was actually a woman, or that Lata Mangeshkar was also a music composer, or that Milkha Singh didn't get the title of Flying Sikh from an Indian but from Ayub Khan, the dictator of Pakistan. I can go on and on, but I am sure you get what I am hinting at.

Rather than examining the merit of an idea, we look at its originator. So many items I have witnessed people rubbish an idea, only to eulogise it moments later on realising that it is the brainchild of someone they hold in high esteem. 'Who' is saying should not matter, 'what' is being said should. However, it is generally the other way round. We feel compelled to follow the successful. We don't follow ideas, we follow people. We don't discuss ideas, we discuss people.

What makes us blindly follow a personality, in spite of knowing that success is temporary and fads become outdated? Today's heroes often turned out villains tomorrow. So many swamis of yesteryears are today branded as rascals.

Desmond Morris has brilliantly analysed the psychological aspects that make us find comfort in becoming part of a group and being identified as members of powerful sects. It is an easy way to stay safe and gain recognition, wealth, and power. Inability to make own decisions also forces people to follow the majority around them. Mediocrity and lack of intelligence, knowledge, courage, confidence and risk-taking ability compel people to blindly follow others. Peer pressure and fears of failure, suppression and ridicule also contribute to the phenomenon. Gradually, people lose sense and start believing everything that their idol says. Some readers may be aware of the Stockholm syndrome, under the influence of which hostages start sympathising with their captors and the abused start admiring their abusers. The so-called idols use the followers for selfish gains. Scams thrive on the weakness of the human mind to avoid complexities and follow the easiest route.

            Blind followers always suffer. It is not necessary to be in a camp. Some of the greatest achievers such as Tagore, Einstein and CV Raman were so different from each-other. So, why copy? Why not be rational? Don't underestimate yourself, my friend. Be original and earn respect. You deserve it!

            Believe me, it is possible. It has been proved so many times.

Work-Life Balance

 

I avoid Gurus. They oversimplify issues and make the sufferer feel like a fool. 

Two all-time-greats, Amitabh Bachchan and Kapil Dev, recently expressed similar opinions about work-related stress. Amitabh Bachchan was hosting the television serial Kaun Banega Crorepati and Kapil Dev was participating in some public event. Amitabh Bachchan said that he does not get overloaded with work and is able to enjoy private time at home, while admitting that he also reads scripts and proposals there. Kapil Dev was astonished at the depression and tension felt by some modern cricketers and said that if they find it too difficult to handle, they should stop playing the game.

 

Amitabh Bachchan and Kapil Dev are not common folk. While Mr Bachchan was the top hero of Hindi cinema for several years, Mr Dev is credited with single-handedly engineering India's first World Cup title in cricket some decades ago. These two greats had access to the best systems and facilities. While they might have had official engagements on birthdays, anniversaries, and other important days, it is also possible that their near and dear ones and staff might have accompanied them on many such occasions, a privilege not enjoyed by most of us.

Work-related stress and work-life imbalance are not figments of imagination. They are there for even the mightiest to experience. It's a different matter that some ignore them, some suffer in silence, and only a few muster courage to be open about it.

Though most working people experience the syndrome, those in the vocation of their choice complain the least. A musician may practise for hours without getting tired, a painter may not come out of the studio for days and yet not get bored, and a journalist may lose the track of time in the flow of events. Separated from mundane realities, intellectuals are happiest when engrossed in their own world. The same is also true with those engaged in manual labour with specific tools—the tailors, the carpenters, the plumbers, etc. Work of choice can keep one occupied enough to skip meals and events, forget birthdays and anniversaries, and yet enjoy a feeling of accomplishment. In a way, Mr Bachchan and Mr Dev are right; work-life balance is a matter of perception. While script-reading may be work for others, it is not so for Mr Bachchan. Similarly, practising cricket and analysing the game for hours may be part of home routine for Mr Dev.

Am I contradicting myself?

No! A harsh reality is that one rarely gets a job of choice! And, in the exceptional event of one getting it, retaining it proves elusive most of the times. One is forced to compromise today or tomorrow. Stress and work-life imbalance become a reality for such people.

The point is, can the encroachment of work in personal life become bearable?

To come to an answer, let us first examine some factors contributing to work-life imbalance.

Surfeit of Communication

A line manager received a call from her boss at night. The manager's shift had ended hours ago, and only the night shift employees were working at the time. The boss complained, "Just now I saw our customer service executive over the CCTV. Why does he have such a grim face? Why can't he smile?"

The manager responded, "But the office hours are over for clients. The executive must be sitting alone, completing paperwork."

The boss remarked, "So what, if he is alone? Shouldn't a customer service executive smile all the time?"

The manager mumbled an apology, spoke to the executive the next morning, and reported back to her boss.

The incident left an ugly mark on the psyche of the manager. She changed jobs at the first opportunity.

A good percentage of communication is pure garbage. The proportion is increasing as time passes. Even the most balanced person can get disturbed by damaging communication. Do we really need to get affected by such garbage? Can't we make better use of time?       

Encouragement to Demands

As the yet-to-be-three years old rubbed sleep out of her eyes, the grandmother asked, "What do you want for breakfast? Boiled eggs or an omelette?"

Minutes later, breakfast was served to the girl. She was not happy, though. It should have been served in a pink plate, she urged. The plate was replaced, and the girl proceeded with eating the breakfast. While eating, she kept on directing the exact Peppa Pig episode to be played alongside.

Can a three-year-old be trusted to know what is best for her?

Exposure to the Glamorous Side of Peers

Times are tough, and who doesn't need a dependable friend in tough times? It's natural to get close to sincere friends, but the closeness comes at a price. Unknowingly, an unfair comparison begins. They use that perfume, and we? They use that car, and we? Their furniture is like that, and ours? Their income must be so much, and ours? Their children go to that school and attend those hobby classes, and ours? They eat at that restaurant and spend vacations at that place, and we?

You are bound to find some areas where 'they' are superior, make efforts to come out better, or feel bitter.   

Indecision and Self-doubt

You decide to host a party at a particular place and fine-tune the guest list, only to feel that you could have enjoyed it better if 'X' was replaced with 'Y'. You paint your house in a favourite shade, only to realise that it doesn't look appealing enough. You pay through your nose to buy a flat, only to repent that you had overlooked certain shortcomings. You accept employment with great enthusiasm, only to notice that the job is not as cosy as you had initially thought.   

            Sounds familiar? Do happy stories often have tragic endings in your case?

Promising Beyond Capability

The boss asks, "Will you submit the report by 6pm, today?" And you respond, "Yes!"

The facts are: your staff leaves at 4:30pm, the research material is not available, the copier does not have blank sheets, and you will miss an important engagement unless you leave the office at the scheduled hour of 5:30pm. Yet, you agree, because you need that job and can't work under an annoyed boss. You can't even tell the boss about the absence of staff, the lack of material, the shortage of stationery, or your personal engagement. You fear that the boss may consider you as incompetent and think about replacing you. 

            The result? Either you fail to submit the report in time, or come up with a far-from-ideal document, making the boss and yourself dissatisfied, not to talk of the missed important engagement.     

            I am sure, you can add many more stress and imbalance contributing factors from your own experience. Please do so and share with other readers, while I try to find ways to make the impact more bearable.

Manage Expectations

You are no superpower. Even the champions get defeated. Don't brag about yourself and fall in a self-made trap. Never commit unless you are pretty sure of honouring the commitment. Learn to say no to impossible demands. Remember, people only hear what they wish to hear. So, stop making statements such as, "Yes, I will try to submit the report ...," "I will try to come home by ...," "I will buy that gift for you if ...," etc. At the outset, say, "At the moment it appears difficult to ... because of ...," giving logical reasons. If you are still able to crack it, everybody will be happy. Otherwise, you will feel less stress and guilt.

Accept Limitations

You are unique. It's not pep talk but a fact of life. If you still need a proof, try to find out another person who has the same finger prints as yours. Stop trying to match that happy person in your neighbourhood, or that smart worker in the office, or that crowd puller in social gatherings. Everybody has their own problems. It's just that you don't know about it.

            Be sincere in your approach, and respect yourself for it. Brooding over others' successes or own failures doesn't help beyond a certain extent.

Manage Time

Don't draw your schedule too tight. Keep some margin for unexpected developments. Also remember, things can go wrong unexpectedly. Be prepared for that.

            That reminds me of a Japanese officer in an Indian company. He had a habit of starting ten minutes early to attend meetings, though it hardly took two minutes to reach the venue and get organised. When asked about it, the man replied, "I invariably have to stop and talk to people on my way. It would be impolite to just wave and keep walking, so I stop, tell them that I am going to a meeting, and take proper leave."  

Prioritise and Sacrifice

Survival, health, happiness, and security are important for us. There are bound to be instances when meeting a deadline is essential for the survival of our or our employer's business. Submission of a tender, attending a surgery, etc., fall in this category. Undergoing regular health check up, exercising, etc., contribute to one's physical health. Going to a movie or a party, taking care of dependents, etc., affect happiness. Finally, managing investments and paying taxes help one in the long run. One must have the common sense to calmly sacrifice the lesser crucial work to fulfil the more important responsibility. With a pragmatic approach and flexibility, one can find alternate ways to meet the less important commitments and still derive pleasure. Remember, it's the small things in life that often give unexpected happiness!   

Prepare Thoroughly

You can save tremendous efforts and rework by understanding and interpreting stated and implied requirements. Develop the habit of reading between the lines, and prepare fully. The approach will enable you to deliver more than expected, both at work and at home.

Rethink and Change

If, in spite of sincerely trying, you are not able to maintain a healthy balance between work and life, rethink and change. Yes, it may be time to change your travel arrangement, house help, vehicle or route, house, lifestyle, pet, or even the job or the spouse. You live only once, and there is no point in getting tormented when you can alleviate the suffering through some action.