August 16, 2019
There is so much happening in the world and I realise more and more people are silent observers. We need more and more people who will be able to talk from the heart, tell stories of things that have happened with them, their feelings, views, perspectives... I am trying here to be that someone... I just can't stay quiet and keep watching it... this blog is an honest attempt at sharing what I see...
Friday, August 16, 2019
“When in doubt remember…
August 16, 2019
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
Speaking may kill, Silence will kill for sure...
Everyone is writing/tweeting about #metoo in India. Either coming out and having the courage to tell their story, or to express what is it that they feel when they hear about the experiences of these women or the silence /apologies etc of the men...
I wanted to stay quiet on the subject but decided not to... People are angry with those who sided with the abusers and or did not take action when they received the complain... Rightly so... However I am not angry with this category of people who stay silent... We all have to make a choice when we are faced with a situation and let me tell you most people men and women do not have the courage.
Before becoming an artist I was in the corporate world and for more than a decade. I was in the HR side and most of my experience was in media houses. I experienced sexual assault from the day 1 of my career. Either as a victim or sometimes as the one people came to when they faced with a situation... I was 25, in my 1st job as a trainee, in the 1st week itself... The VP admin, (an ex fauji) , touched me inappropriately in an open office on the sly and when saw the shocked look on my face went away laughing... That expression 'gotcha...' I did not know who to go to, he was a VP of a big big company, no one wud believe me, I went to the loo and cried and then rest of my stint, stayed away from him...
In another job, my own boss who had a roving eye for all us girls would make us so uncomfortable that despite repeated complains to the Directors and even MD, he was never touched. He wasn't even a great performer... But the men in power refused to believe the girls who worked for the organisation. I remember I was told by a colleague, "so when u go to his cabin make sure your duppata is covering you nicely..." Yes I was told that... We all left the organisation but that man continued to be where he was...
In my last organisation, a very well known media house, in my stint of 6 years I heard sexual complaints by several colleagues... Each time I would go to the management and I could sense the uneasiness that the management had in dealing with the issues. Many a times I felt helpless, many a times I insisted that the concerned person should be issued a warning. The two times when the cases actually reached sexual harrasment committe, one could sense the tension. Both were cases where the abuser was victim's boss. In one case, the victim complained 3months after the incident and it pained me that everyone blamed her that she must have got a bad appraisal... Whatever happened in the committee, the woman, left the organization coz the boss wasn't asked to go and was just asked to apologise. How horrible I felt both as a woman and senior HR person... The next incident the woman complained immediately and the management had no option but to take action. The abuser was a blue eyed boy and several verbal complains had come against him but this was the 1st in writing... Action had to be taken and the management despite fear of hurting the business took the call. The girl was labeled as the one who got the boss ousted... The ousted boss left but not with an iota of remorse... It was almost like "you guys will suffer now...". My faith in HR and humanity was restored but for a bit...
Meanwhile I quit my job and became an artist. Only to learn some months later that the perpetrator had joined back the organisation. The same management who chucked him out rehired him despite a policy that you cannot rehire a person sacked on account of sexual offence. The management sided with the abuser. Giving clear signal to the women that profit comes before you. The person now in organization with even more power yet again crossed his limit. The victim raised her voice but management turned a blind eye and a deaf year... She left, still fighting on the outside, he continues as the boss...
Yes the blue eyed boy continues to rule... I am happy I am out of the dirty world and the women tell me he is back with a vengeance...
When the heads of a media house breaking stories and claiming that truth is their game, side with profits, with abusers, with chauvinism and patriarchy then what's the fault of people in smaller organisations who just look the other way... (that's what I thought and didn't allow myself to get angry)
But angry I am... Everyone has to go back and sleep and I often wonder if all these people ever sleep peacefully?
I know I do coz I did all I could to raise my voice, make a noise and force people to look...
#metoo, #metooinindia
Shubhra (c)
8th October, 2018
Monday, April 29, 2019
A part of us... Gagan Sardana!!
Yesterday morning at 4 am I woke up to the terrible news about Gagan Sardana. Our dear friend from graduation days was no more. Message exchanges at wee hours actually got home the point. Shell shocked. Our friend, our age, cardiac arrest, just like that gone in a whiff. Impossible but true it was...
The whole day went by in just talking to various friends and sharing each other's grief. Then it struck me. All of us were from a phase in our life where we were together most of the days. Sitting on footpath outside college or in canteen or just going out to various monuments or to someone's house. Teaming up for festivals, having a keen interest in the love lives of each of us... Being a rock support when the love was serious stuff and leaving no chance to pull leg when it was just a one sided infatuation... We may not have had one on one equation with all in the group but as a group we all were there for each other... 3 years went past in a jiffy and we all moved on... Life happened and we all got busy in our new ventures... We kept in touch with a few not so much with others...
Cut to many years later when social media happened. Facebook got us all connected. And we caught up with each other. Then WhatsApp happened and the WhatsApp groups... Soon reunions and get togethers were on the card and it was such joy to meet up these friends again. From footpath we graduated to a nice restaurant or pub and sometimes even home. Everyone was busy managing life and schedules and no one really got around to really knowing the real life of another. What is it that is happening with another, barring the close ones we have kept in touch with over the years. However, meeting for those few hours once a year was such a stress buster. We would remember the good old days, crack jokes like the yesteryears. Catch up on friends and news of friends we have not been in touch with and needless to say still bond over food.
Yesterday, news of Gagan's death took away from us all (me for sure) a part of that era. We all grew up together and then suddenly one of us is not there. I realised that how little I knew of Gagan's life, his struggles and his achievements, but I cannot and will not erase the memory of him from college time. His unmatched wit, humour and laughter. He was the entertainment quotient of the group. In fact in all these years if anything was common it was still his wit and entertainment quotient... If he was around we had to roll off laughing. But now he has gone and left us in tears, shocked and numb.
I will remember you Gagan for the way you made us all feel and made us laugh and for your crazy ideas...
Rest in peace my dear friend.
For the rest of us, we stand together and hug each other. While we all have limited time let us never leave an opportunity to let others know how we feel for them.
shubhra (c)
29th April, 2019
Asheeth Monika Nalini Joshi Samir Bhushan Shalini Farah Simrat Judge Venkataraman Balakrishnan Sona Dutta Agendra Mukul Rohit Kilam Satish Kumar
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Happy 2014 it was and happy 2015 it will be...
As another year went by, I sat down to ponder on how the year faired. The tasks left undone, the accomplishments, the failures and the success all started flashing through my mind... It's then I realised that what's important to savour are the experiences and not so much the annual to do list.
So I decided to recall my various experiences both direct and indirect.
2014 gave me my biggest project till date, another stepping stone. A project that made me come out as a stronger person. I saw dreams coming true and friends and relationships falling apart. I saw money taking control of people and their behavior. I also had friends bailing me out of the crisis. I saw the joy of work well done on the faces of the labourers and I felt the muscles strain in the effort to meet deadlines.
The year made me cross my comfort zone and made me do work I had never attempted before. It made me experiment and it saw me out-perform my earlier work. I also connected with many new kids. Passionate about art and totally fun to be with. It had me teach art to moms who had their plate full but wanted to vent creatively.
While I felt the joy of playing the piano again, I missed my vocal lessons as my guru became too frail now to sing. I had the joy of growing my own vegetables and see little tomatoes... And I also felt pain when my 10 year old plant just died...
I attended a wild Bachelorette party where almost every one let their hair down... And painted the town (read Hyderabad) red with my girl friends...
In 2014 I lost a few old friends, people I had been with for years. With reasons not clear best course of action was to move on... Beginning of the year saw me through the roller coaster of first finding and then letting go of someone who was perceived to be my soul mate for last 22 years. Alas what's not meant to be is not meant to be...
They say that when a door closes another opens. I met new people and I experienced the joy of reconnecting with school mates from kanpur. The joy of talking about the days gone by was priceless.
This year I also vicariously went through a lot. Joys, sorrows and ecstasy... A knee surgery and painful recovery... A birth of boy child... Managing the tantrums of a 2 year old who was visibly upset at the entry of the little brother in her life... An adoption of a girl... And even taking the plunge to tie the knot. Each of these life changing event I witnessed and lived them closely.
I lost my favorite uncle and felt my aunt's loss of a partnership that had lasted 57 years.
I ran marathons and kept bettering my record. I walked and I cycled. I baked and cooked and experimented with the spices. I tried hard to diet and through some I was a success and somewhere else a failure.
Be it my own or others from all the experiences one thing I realised that everyone goes through their own shit. Some find others lose. Some lose their love, other their spouse, some their parents and other their siblings. Some lose their pets and some their jobs. And almost everyone tries to lose weight.
In 2014 I saw the high and low, I lost and found, I surged ahead and often staggered. I lacked discipline but not determination. I lost heart but never hope. I cried a lot but laughed even more.
With joy in my heart and determination in mind I surge ahead to welcome the year 2015 with another annual to do list. Tasks I'd like to complete, projects to undertake, places to visit, people to meet but keeping in mind to focus on and savour all the experiences big and small and good and bad alike... Happy 2014 it was and I hope happy 2015 it will be...
(c) shubhra
January 4, 2015
Thursday, December 18, 2014
"aaj sir ke yahan baithak hai..."
It's been a year today since Khurshid Anwar jumped off his house. He succumbed to the trauma that he had been subjected to. Falsely accused of rape, instead of following the process and the law, he was pronounced guilty by a section of media and many others who maligned him, his reputation and his entire existence on social media and off it. He on 18th December, 2013 at about this time gave in to it all...
His perpetrators are free, enjoying life, active on Facebook, in social circles and some also in political circles. The said victim never showed up after her accusation. The police have still not filed an FIR on the complain registered by the family against some prominent people. The court has given dates and the process is on... System is working at its own pace.
Khurshid Anwar is no more and the world has moved on... His house got wound up. Family which was away from him but had united on his demise has also moved on. Organisation which was closest to him as they were together almost 24x7, picked pieces and pledged to take ahead what Khurshid had left behind. They faced financial crisis, board crisis but they got around it. They got a new board, and responsibilities were realigned. Not a single employee left the organization. They organised events, brought out books and tried to keep Khurshid alive through their work. But the void continues...
I knew Khurshid through Shruti my sister who works for ISD and in his absence now has been appointed the Chief Functionary of the organization. ISD was shruti's 1st job and Khurshid made sure she learns and learns well. He would be happy to see her perform today. He mentored her, was her friend and shared an amazing rapport with her. Every other day she would call and say "aaj sir ke yahan baithak hai, will eat there".
Through this one year I have seen whatever has happened through Shruti's eyes and through the voices of some of her colleagues. I have seen her cry and I have seen her angry. I have seen the team anxious before meeting with the funder and I have seen the team helpless when court extended the dates. Each in their own way want justice. Each in their own way are frustrated. They maybe the closest people Khurshid had but it's the family who takes decisions. Life is funny, those who are with you in life have little say about you when you are dead.
One year is over... Life changed for many, as it did for my sister. Khurshid is no more but alive in memories, in his stories, through his work. Often I hear Khurshid would have said this, he would have said that... his presence is missed by many... Magar ab koi message nahi aata Shruti se..
kyunki ab koi baithak hi nahi hoti...
(c) Shubhra
December 18, 2014
Thursday, November 27, 2014
A conversation with a 8 yr old girl...
I take these interactive sessions on art with kids. In other words I go and teach them a thing or two about painting etc.. The kids are generally 6 yrs plus studying in various schools of South Delhi and Gurgaon.
Yesterday, was class with 2 girls who are close friends all of 8 years and studying in one of the best school of Delhi. During the class a conversation happened between these two which left me disturbed.
For now referring to the girls as A and B. The class was at A's house and B goes to the wash room and this is the conversation that follows...
" Do you have guests at home? " asked B to A.
" Yes, my dadu's friends have come." A replied.
"Are they from US or Canada?" B asked.
"No they are from Pakistan."
B jumps and says "Pakistan! please don't take me in front of them"
"Why?"
"They will be terrorist"
"We know them they are friends and they are not terrorist " said A.
I promptly intervened and asked B, "who told you people from Pakistan are terrorist?"
"My nani, told me that people from Pakistan came to Mumbai and killed many at the hotel. Even Nani's friend was killed." replied B
"But all people from Pakistan are not terrorist. There can be bad people anywhere. In India, in your own Delhi there are people who are bad who are doing wrong. In US or in any place there will be good people and bad people ", I tried to put some gyan in the little girl's head.
"Mam, then who are terrorist? Why do they kill?" asked A
"Beta these are people who are unwell in their head, they have lost sense of good and bad, someone tells them and they pick their guns and kill innocent people. They need treatment, they are not normal people. "
"If I take a gun and kill someone, will I also be called a terrorist?" asked B
Now, I knew I had to answer that carefully, so I said, if you surrender say sorry to court, you will be punished, you serve your punishment and then try to be a good human you will not be called a terrorist.
The kids seemed satisfied and got distracted with their art.
But it left me wondering. Today the kids have an information over load. They watch TV sit with adults when discussions are happening and by and by form opinions. All Pakistanis are terrorist, who is a terrorist, can I be a terrorist... All serious and dangerous thoughts and questions that are crossing the minds of these 7-8 year old kids.
As adults, teachers, parents we need to be better equipped with answers and with thoughts that will not prejudice a young mind. I have no clue whether how I handled the question was right or not...
But on the 26/11 anniversary a little girl telling me a Pakistani came to Mumbai and killed her nani's friend hence all Pakistanis are terrorist was a disturbing conversation...
Shubhra
November 27, 2014
Art: Treasure or Product?
A few years ago, my neighbour’s friend visited my studio to see my art. She fell in love with what she saw and praised my work generously. I...
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I think a lot and I have a very good memory… (Not the best things to boast about, I can assure you). I am always thinking, when I am painti...
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Last night it was very cold and slightly foggy. It must have been about 11.30 pm or so and I was on my way back from office. On the signal n...
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A very very important person in my life has recently abandoned me. I call it abandonment because that is how it has panned out over the wee...