Rape

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

In one of the plays in the Absurd Drama genre, in the end a man and woman survive after the whole of the mankind is destroyed. Will these two male and female create mankind again? The answer does not count. What counts is: can sex be without marital relationship, a valid, legal- moral relationship? In the Mahabharata the queen mother Satyabati invites her own illegitimate son to have sex with her two widowed daughters in law only to prolong the clan: was that valid sex or shall we call it authority enforced rape?

The word rape sends shivers down my spine. The modern day mass media (social media) have made the word obnoxious to the limit. The cacophony raised over it and the media trial that happens lays bare the ugly face of man. As the media is vibrant today almost all urban rapes are reported in gory detail. Many cases go unreported. Political bosses make sexist comments. Male prejudice is openly bandied in the name of religion. Debates rape our sensibilities. But nothing happens the next day. Convenient memory relegates the matter to the subconscious level.

Rape is an aggressive expression of male ego. To possess a woman by force paying no heed to her protestations is inhuman to say  the least. The sexual predators are proud of forcing a woman for their own stolen pleasures. They are never ashamed of the fact that such enforced acts are cowardly. They will never understand  that a woman who is raped loses forever her self esteem. The psychological injury like a wound festers. Hate for men and disinterest in sex at times take away their interest in sex. The male world takes it as a done thing. As Mulayam Singh Jadav( Former U.P. Chief Minister) has said -"boys are boys  and they will do such things..." After the Nirvaya case in a Delhi bus, for a few days, the conscience of India rose to a pitch. New rape laws were framed. Justice Burma framed the new law awarding death penalty in rarest of rare cases. Nirvaya's mass rape and brutal murder was definitely a rare case and the rapist deserved the death penalty. But even after four years no one has been hanged. It is now obvious that death penalty is no deterrent. The Indian judiciary is  handicapped by several loop holes in the legal system. Lower court, appellate court, supreme court and finally President's mercy- the process is so long and intricate that the victim or survivor can never savour justice when it comes, if at all. The police and the Central Bureau of Investigation take years to file even the charge sheet. Those who are rich and powerful employ high-priced  lawyers to defend them and the cases hang fire.

But all said and done, who rapes? A man who lives in a family and society which follow certain moral codes, however, flexible they may be. There is a legal system in the country within which the society operates. The Indian Penal Code is very much in operation. Why then rapists commit such heinous crimes? The parents do not have compunction, their conscience is never shaken over the crime of their son. But the woman's parents suffer a hurt pride and in certain communities kill their own wronged daughter to escape so called social stigma. No social moral sense is disturbed; no group accosts the rapists, no social ostracism happens and to cap it all no justice operates: legal or moral.

How can rape be eradicated from society? Advices are dime a dozen. Women activists, police and others dole out free advise. A special corset too has now come to the market to prevent rape. All these things are laughable. Rape is a primordial crime and it may continue as long as the women are considered to be the weaker sex. The day a woman dares a rapist and maims or kills him the men will be on the back foot. Civilization has given polish to men and women but the predatory instinct is beyond civilizational polish. Moral lessons are of no help. The only way, as I see it, is empowerment of woman even in the physical sense. If the society enjoys a comparatively greater degree of freedom and men and women both freely mix with each other openly there may be more of consensual sex; not rape. But I am not sure. Fathers rape daughters. Cenci is still around . Rasputins and Casanovas are in every dark alley; unless men treat women as equals and the society does not make distinctions between man and woman rape would continue. But once the conscience is awakened may be the number of rapes will decrease .                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            

Spring Indeed...

When the green mantle covers

our earthy brown, the drowsy daisy

awakens to the honey touch of dew

when swallows fly away homeward

kites flaunder in nomadic flights,

wild honey bees hum of youth

nature’s budoir turns fragrant

spring arrives like a comely bride

poets go ga ga over love songs.

Where is that spring , on Siachin heights

in the wailing widow's lonesome cries

in the Kashmir valley we call paradise?

Red light districts of Mumbai shores

never change their  bargaining chores

the poor and hungry eat winter pies

morning haze cancels trains

interview hopes go in flames.

I see no spring in my child’s eyes
my cows don’t chew the cud in peace

no flowers I see in towered lanes

no garlands hang from window panes.

Sprint back spring this misty morn

play with  kids who move forlorn

leave us to our shabby fate

let's cook poetry for our plate.

Sabita Sahu

Holi

Prafulla Kumar  Mohanty

Holi is an official declaration of the end of winter. The indoor life of the people is over in the villages. The rising temperature compels the people to spend the nights outside in the mango groves or in the familiar forest areas. This was the reality of India in those days when the joys of electricity were not available. Life moved along the agrarian cycle; the poor farmers, artisans and the illiterate god-fearing people choicelessly followed the adjustments called for by seasonal changes. Myths and scriptural accounts of Creation priestly enunciations and religious practices, rituals were the entire cultural matrix within which the people had to live. There was no light of civilization for living, and life was confined to needs of the body - food, shelter and some clothes to hide shame. In this reality sickness and other infirmities the flesh is heir to, had to be mitigated by divine mercy. But the ancients never ignored the body and related pleasures. If winter brought discontent spring brought mirth; the body beautiful indulged in orgies of pleasure too. 

Holi as a festival celebrates joy,  the joy of life stolen from the pain of human condition. Two myths inspired this festival. One is Vaishnabite Rasa stemming from the Radha-Krishna union and consecration of love celebrated with dance, music and sexual frenzy. Spring awakens the libido, men and women instinctually react to the feast of flowers, song of the nightingale and the greenery slowly replacing the dull baldness of the earth. Gratitude to the Maker, for relieving them from bone chilling winter and shrinking sensibilities, is expressed through song and dance. Colours of love are strewn over the lovers in cacophonous glee. Pastes are smeared on the faces of the Radhas and Radhas to drench the Krishna's with their pichkaris spraying riotous colours. Poets compose songs of love on the theme of R-K and assume their persona. The sky gets technicoloured, the jealous sun glares much to the indifference of the revellers. Mridanga, khol, kartal, cymbals and conch shells create sexual ecstasy. Sweets are distributed, bhang and madira flow, drowning men and women in the ocean of hallucinatory creativity. Feet falter but not the dance steps. Fancy and fantasy  go reinless to absurdity: but who cares! A day of amorous physicality releases all tensions of living.

The other myth is woven around evil. The demoness Holika is thrown into fire by the redeemer of man, the divine agency saves the humans from evil. Hence Holi is celebrated with a sense of release and relief. Evil burns. Humans light up symbolic pyres and beat the demoness, and then follows the dance- song-sex  in ritualistic freedom.

Holi also means the death of winter.The pyre is set to burn winter and welcome spring with creative energy. If fire burns evil and the agency of death water is welcomed with open arms. After spraying colours and the song-dance display of energy, men and women go for a ceremonial clensing of the body and mind. In ancient days R-K must have gone to the yamuna, elsewhere people must have gone to the rivers and ponds. This bath purifies them. Thereafter men will find other sources to survive. The agricultural season is over. Food is inside the homes. The womenfolk normally mind the home, housekeeping and the other  chores. Men go to the forest for  wood. But at night they rehearse the stage plays and get busy in practising musical instruments etc.

Now a days the rigours of the season are not felt by the people. Even the poor  villages enjoy  electricity. The outdoor is no more a compulsion. But today Holi is celebrated in a crude manner. The rich dissolve their conscience in alchol and the not so rich in country liquor and other less expensive beverages. But chemicals are added to the colours and make them almost indelible. Processions on bikes move causing traffic jam. The divinity and purity associated with Holi are now absent.  But the ostentation is mind boggling which, however, is natural in the upper classes. Yet ,Holi hooliganism by the misguided revellers is going on. I condemn it with all the vehemence at my command.

Holi is a festival of fire and water. It is a celebration of Spring that rejuvenates life to meet the challenges of another cycle of seasons. It relaxes and releases tension. Above all it celebrates love. May this Holi spread the message of love and friendship. May the colours spray off the differences. May we emerge as true lovers of life in all its nuances.

Fasting

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

When Hessay’s Siddhartha matched the gold buckles on the shoes of the rich with his wait- fast- pray, Kamala naturally laughed: For a woman of Kamala’s beauty cannot auction love for nothing. Fasting in the Vedic civilization was a virtue. Those who fasted and prayed received divine mercy but love is soulful food which fasting cannot substitute. Fasting is self-denial: Love is self fulfilment. By denying the basic elements or materials for sustenance you can never attain love or god. Voluntary acceptance of pain is often thought of as appeasement of the spiritual powers. The basic philosophy is: life is an endless drama of pain. Relief can be given only by the divine powers. In the context of hunger, sickness and fear the ‘wait-fast -pray’ policy of religious masters was an escapist proposition for the ease of survival.

Fasting was always used as a moral force against autocratic powers to arouse mercy , kindness and sympathy in their stubborn hearts. Women always used it at home to bend the sympathy waves of the menfolk to flow with relenting fury. Mahatma Gandhi made fasting a moral weapon against the British Government during the Freedom movement. Gandhi’s Ahimsa and Satyagraha made fasting a spiritual force. The world admired it for it aroused the conscience of men who never thought beyond the sword. This soulforce as he called this Satayagraha was passive. Yet it shook the Empire to realize that physical power is not the ultimate force to subjugate people. The poor, hungry masses have soulforce before which the gun is not always effective. Fasting for Gandhi was an aspect of the Non –violence of the brave. Voluntary acceptance of suffering to protest against the suffering imposed by the British powers was not passive or expedient, it was a positive counter energy to remind the British that if a nation can abstain from essentials to claim legitimate freedom from oppression, it can go to any length to get what it loves most. Fasting was a political weapon for Gandhi. Its novelty astounded the world.

But after 1947 when India became a free country the same ‘followers’ of Gandhi used the political weapon against their own people to arm twist the elected rulers of the people. Anasana, protest fast, became so common that it was an emotional blackmail of the clever people and soon lost its moral force. But in India fasting as a political weapon has not been totally discarded. Anna Hazare, a Gandhian, perhaps brought fasting to its last gasps by overuse and abuse.

But religious rituals and practices still include fasting as an appeasatory self- flagellation in most Hindu homes. Almost every Monday is a fasting day for devotees of Shiva. Tuesdays and Saturdays are for Hanuman. Those who cannot fast at least don’t eat meat or fish on these days. Besides these all festive occasions are fasting days for Hindus. The Nava Ratri is very auspicious for people and men and women fast for the good of the family. The belief is life cannot go on without divine blessings and appeasement of gods, therefore, is a bounden duty. The hindu widows fast on all occasions for what they know not. If life has denied things in this birth the next birth must be better and for that advance merit must be earned by self- denial. It seems pre paid service is the order of things.

In Islam too Ramzan is followed for a month. During day time no food or water is taken by the devout muslims. Kartik for the hindus  is as important as Ramzan for the Muslims. A month of prayer –fast keeps the elderly (even middle aged) and the widows in particular glued to the temples. Suppression of all human desires and sublimation of instincts fortified by month long fasting reserves space for the individual in the world soul. Modern science, the knowledge society, the pragmatics of new knowledge have no impact on these hindu practises. If you argue with a Vrindavan priest, he will flatten you with the argument that fasting cleans up the body system,  prayers purify your soul and  purity is the only merit  man should crave for : life is a continuum, death is a pause to permit the spirit to put on  a new garb, These rituals are pre ordained requisites for an improved situation in your next birth. One has no questions to know the form, nature and content of purity for a snub would be the answer.

Ask any medical practitioner, his patients mostly suffer from acidity, malnutrition and anaemia; and the cause is frequent fast and irregular food habits. But the devotees of next Dream Life will smile away the comments and go to the puja room gulping a few tablets. Religious faith is required for peace of mind and comparative moral purity in living; No debate. But self- denial, I think, is too harmful to the body and soul. Let’s sing the praise of gods in full belly and in full throated ease.

Happy Life

Oh’ its Saturday again

wife’s delight husband’s fright

she’s off her daily chores

shopping all day Big Bazar or More

fill the trolley from morn to even

yet her shopping pending remains.

He follows her every where in the Mall

when she hurries to grab things all.

The ATM card gets sweaty and tired

yet she picks things not required

hubby follows with bags and kids

humping yet unbuckled at the knees

a vague smile hides lines of worry

fluttering he says ,yes baby-yes baby,

when the day shopping quota gets over

they enter a joint in rush hour

kids run, the hubby saunters

wife click clocks to a corner

what a bagsful day for the wife

not happy but ok the day is ripe.

Evening tea and more shopping

Kid's park and late dining,

that’s the baggy theme of saturday

matinee show and eat out on sunday.

Wife is happy as a lottery winner

what else matters spring or winter!

Sabita Sahu

My Valentine

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

                                                                                                                                                  

It won’t be wrong to say

I have my valentine, yes I have

he stands apart from the rest

like a jewel on my crest

who created and reserved for me

the choicest and the best!

When I make promises to him

his eyes light up, he burns

in thousand volts expectation

brightening my fused youth,

but when I plan a long drive,

the  road is closed for repairs

the hotel  for candle light dinner

gets raided for rave parties

gifts and return gifts embroiled

in verbal duels make him look

a long neglected patient, he lights

the last cigarette on earth in sulk.

We have no time to celebrate

yet every moment is a celebration

of love which swells the winds

to blast off a few Taj Mahals.

We like bow and arrow shoot

targets in the dark when the world

sleeps but we are too far apart,

nadir and zenith never to meet

here: hereafter or ever: yet

we are tied with the bond of love

care and other worldly concerns

which no other valentine had

mine is the best in earth and air.


Sabita Sahu

Hope

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

Hope is an abstract word and it has as many connotations as there are individual men and women. The animals too, perhaps, entertain hope, may be in the context of their survival. A man who hopes for things indirectly indicates that his past, including the immediate present, has not given him nurturing memories. If memories are pleasant dreams are juicy. If dreams are juicy hope is more colourful. But if a man has bad memories of his past he may hope for a change in his present screenplay of life. But if he convinces himself that nothing will ever change his life, he may rethink his life and will decide whether he would go on with his unchanging, flaccid and stagnant life. If he decides to put an end to his life it may be on an impulse or after a conscious admission to himself of having failed to carve out his own being. Reality is always a challenge irrespective of his position in family, society, world, his dreams and aspirations. As one grows from the stage of the babe in the nurse’s arms (or the hell- hole) to pre-adolescence a bond with life is already struck. Living creates desires and dreams. Hope naturally makes him strive for a better tomorrow. How can someone tear off the bond, cancel the unwritten MOU?

Albert Camus in his Myth Of Sisyphus has called living a habit. “Dying voluntarily implies that you have recognised, even instinctively, the ridiculous character of that habit, the absence of any profound reason for living, the insane character of that daily agitation, and the uselessness of suffering.” I am tempted to ask, who in the world is not feeling, at some point or other, the futility of living a life of daily martyrdom? The priest, the devotee, the kings, conquerors as well as the sick get moments of the absurd. The desire to play destiny maker  to one’s own life and put an end to that absurdity with a ‘bare bodkin ‘ often pushes us to the brim .But should we all kill ourselves ? Failure has several faces and man is fated to encounter such faces daily. A world conqueror like Napoleon after victory at Corssica rolled on his large bed shedding tears of failure for not having conquered the heart of Josephine. But he did not go in for suicide. Even as a half blind prisoner at Elba he dreamt of a comet in the sky to appear at his death.

Dreams are endless. Failures are endless. Suffering too is endless. But euthanasia is the last thing one should desire. I am not an advocate of fate or destiny. In the modern world man himself carves out his own destiny. In the process failure comes. Frustration comes. Nature too is now cramped and cribbed by man’s adventures. Nature protests. Man suffers the consequences of his own technotronic attacks on nature. A tree blown bare and bald in a super cyclone again smiles with foliage. Nails, they say, grow in the coffin. Man’s mental fight against all odds goes on in ceaseless reinforcements: why then acknowledge defeat? Some battles will be lost in the general war of life. A failure or defeat or despair should not lead man to jump off a cliff. Suicide is not even the last choice of a soldier, unless he is a Roman Fool.

Whoever gave us this life wanted us to live it fully. If life is a poisoned chalice drink it to the lees: the afterlife may be ambrosiac. Hope for the best because the unborn tomorrow may reveal the garden path to your Princess. Love always gives hope; if not today , tomorrow; if not tomorrow the day after and so on. Hope keeps your nerves agile makes your body and mind ambulatory. Hope is future, the unseen, the unknown possibility to put life on track.

There are still some people who think why repeat the past in the present if no redemption is insight? The answer to those nay sayers is: because these chain repetitions of negativity may one day break and new light flash illuminating your dark reality. Hope keeps you alive. It makes you think, plan, plot and try. Waiting for Godot is worthwhile even if Godot never turns up, for the wait strengthens reason. This reason is strengthened by hope. Hoping against hope comes naturally to human reason. Those who feel life is absurd do not know how to live. Life is  a work of art  if you know how to hold the brush of your being alive.