No Country For Women

A few months back, when the Nirbhaya rape incident rocked Delhi, everyone started painting Delhi as “the rape capital of India.” I wanted to determine the veracity of this statement. I went online to check the rape statistics and incidents across various states in India. As per the Crime Bureau Statistics, this statement was not true. Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh and West Bengal account for the maximum number of reported rapes in the country. Rape cases are regularly reported from across the country.

When I posted on my facebook page  “Maharashtra is more unsafe for women than Delhi’, a  Mumbai based friend made vehement protests..She went to great lengths to prove me wrong, despite the fact that I had substantiated my claims with research data. Well, the recent broad daylight rape in Mumbai narrates a different story.

I decided to take my research to the next level and take an in-depth look at rapes at a more global level. I had been unnerved by the rape incident in Delhi, and wondered about cities/countries across the world where women could feel safe. 

I was quite surprised with my findings. As per a UN report, the United States had amongst the highest number of rapes with more than 80,000 cases of rape reported to the police from 2004 to 2010. India was at Number 2 with more than 20,000 reported rape cases every year. Australia, Botswana and Lesotho ranked highest in number of rapes per capita. But tallying sheer totals, Europe and the Americas consistently top the charts.
 
South Africa has the highest rates of rape in the world, with some 65,000 rapes and other sexual assaults reported for the year ending in March 2012, or 127.6 per 100,000 people in the country. A 2010 study led by the government-funded Medical Research Foundation says that in Gauteng province in South Africa, more than 37 percent of men said they had raped a woman. In South Africa, rape is so common it barely makes the news. The rapes of elderly women and babies are outlined in four-line stories on the inside pages of local newspapers, but most sexual assaults get no public attention.

Sweden has the highest incidence of reported rapes in Europe and one of the highest in the world. According to a 2009 study, there were 46 incidents of rape per 100,000 residents. This figure is twice that of the UK which reports 23 cases, and four times that of the other Nordic countries, Germany and France. The figure is up to 20 times the figure for certain countries in southern and eastern Europe.

It is not only the rape statistics that confound me. It is also the rape laws that exist in various countries that brings several questions to mind. As per Amnesty International, Danish laws on sexual crimes fall under a chapter called "Vice Crimes", unlike in most Western countries, which sends the message that rape violates public morality or public order, rather than the rights of an individual to bodily integrity. The definition of rape is very narrow focusing on violence and excludes many situations dealing with other forms of abuse, which, according to the report, are considered rape in most other Western countries.

 In a 2006 case in Italy, the Court of Cassation ruled that a 41-year old man who raped his 14-year-old stepdaughter can seek to have his sentence reduced on mitigating circumstances, due to the fact that the girl had been already sexually active and "since the age of 13 had had many sexual relations with men of every age and it's right to assume that at the time of the encounter with the suspect her personality, from a sexual point of view, was much more developed than what one might normally expect from a girl of her age". UNICEF in Italy stated that the decision "seriously violates human rights and the dignity of a minor.

In a study, some of the common conclusions were given to the participants, it recorded that 33% of the police officers suggested that "some women deserve rape", 66% of police officers, as well as nearly 50% of other professional groups except the psychologists about 18% and 27% of psychiatrists, suggested that "the physical appearance and behaviors of women tempt men to rape." 

The U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics defines rape as penetration by the offender, and excludes rape by envelopment.I am not even going to delve into Middle-East rape statistics for obvious reasons.

I am left wondering  – Is there a Country Safe for Women? Or Is there “No Country for Women?”

The Prodigal Daughter

It was her younger brother's engagement. She had been invited to attend the function back home. Her brother was very keen that she be a part of this important event of his life. She was his only sibling.

But the thought of going back to that house sent shivers down her spine. She had visited the house many a times in the past few years. But every time she had to brace herself for the familiar nausea in which that house managed to envelop her. She had however done it in the past in the name of social and family obligations. She had tried  hard and in earnest to shrug off the dust of the past - to forgive and to forget. But it had not happened.

Her abuser still lived in that house, and the sly smile on his face never failed to bring the memories flooding back - memories of being abused at the young age of 13 years, memories of feeling suffocated and trapped, memories of an innocence lost forever.

Should she do it again in the name of her brother's love, in the name of family honor? She was not sure. She had found a little oasis of her own, and she was not willing to step back into the desert anymore. "But Didi, I really want you to come. There will be no joy without you," her brother had said over the phone.

After some introspection, she realized that she really wanted to be there for her brother's engagement. She loved him. She did not wish to deprive herself or him because of the abuser.

So how could she participate in the function without having to go through the trauma of staying at that house. She decided to book herself into a hotel." But what will the relatives say? This is unheard of - staying at a hotel when you have your own home. What about the family image?" her mother protested.

She chuckled at that. She had come a long way in life and had found a guiding philosophy that was serving her well - "To thine own self be true".

Letter from 80 year old me to the 35 year old me

I was asked to write a letter from “me at 80 years” to “me now at 35 years” expressing what the 80 year old Pearl, looking back at her life would want the Pearl right now to do with her life. I wrote it impromptu, so please excuse the causal writing. I never intended to make it public initially, but then I asked myself – what the hell, I want to share my lessons and experiences with others. Here goes the letter:

Dear Pearl at 35

I send you my love. My memory is somewhat faded but I still remember all the wonderful times we had together. I would very much like to tell you to get off your ass and go out and fulfill your dreams - does not matter how, just go out and fulfill them. Do not worry about money and other issues. Do not give in to your fears.  Just book that ticket to South America - your dream destination. You will never regret it, it will become one of the most cherished memories of your life - trust me on that. I promise you. 

Book that ticket. Do not over-think it. Ask for some help from the people you know there - ask Vandana, Deepa, etc... but just go, go, go, go.... The experience will leave you completely transformed. And when you are 80 years of age, and you look back at life, you will be really glad that you did it for me and for your own self. The trip will set the stage for all your other dreams to follow. So go for it. Do not wait any longer. You have already caused yourself so much trauma and pain by waiting for so long. Nothing else matters. The dream is waiting for you to fulfill it.

And yes, keep writing. Your writing is improving day by day. I am a published author today but it is all thanks to you, and your consistent effort - so keep writing and keep the faith .

Lots of love
Pearl at 80

What do you think "80 year old you" would ask you to do with your life now?

Dialogue with the Therapist

Therapist : What does your inner voice tell you?

Me : To go traveling ( Giggles)

Therapist : Why are you giggling? Are you feeling embarrassed?

Me : Yes I am. People are doing community service, doing great things for their families, building brands, inventing stuff, etc and my inner voice is telling me to go traveling at this age. It just feels a bit frivolous by comparison.

Therapist : Do you believe that there is something fundamentally wrong with traveling?

Me: Well , I believe it is recreational in nature. It is the sport of either the rich or the really passionate. I feel I am neither.

Therapist : Do you perceive anything fundamentally flawed in that belief?

Me: Yes I do . It does not make sense even to my dull mind. I have always told others to follow their own  hearts, and to do what they believe in.

Therapist : Do you see how you trivialize your own needs and feelings? Forget others. You do it to yourself. You make fun of your own wants and desires. You laugh at them , feel embarrassed about them. You carry a flawed belief about your desires, and your capabilities to achieve them.

Me : Yes, I see

Am I a Loser?

Changing the Script of my Life

I have started writing the morning pages. Every morning I jump straight out of my  bed  to my desk, where I start scribbling in my diary. I have committed to writing three pages every day . My pen furiously captures my stream of consciousness in these pages and I never review anything that I have written. 

I have been appalled at the themes emerging in these pages. One of the issues that came up in the pages was my recent struggle to wake up early in the morning and follow my morning routine like the good old times. And for some time now I had been failing miserably at this endeavor. My mind said that I should not make a big issue out of something so insignificant. However, the reality was that since it had been appearing prominently and consistently in my morning pages, it must have been a big deal for me somehow.

I wrote in my morning pages about how big a loser I was . The voice in my head kept telling me, “You are a lazy fart who will never move beyond these basic struggles in life. Forget about the big things, you will always be bogged down by the baggage of these un-necessary things.”. The voices would start a vicious cycle  in my head that would pull me down further and further during the day.

A few days back I came across an excellent piece of writing. I decided to follow the wisdom carried within that piece and take a reality check on my life. I discovered that I was anything but lazy. I was sincere to my work, I  was working out regularly in the evenings, I was involved in community service, I was fulfilling my responsibilities at home, I was catering to my own self expression needs, I was taking care of my pets, and so forth –  I was anything but lazy. This was reality substantiated by hard evidence. 

My feelings had been giving me a false signal, far separated from reality. I decided to take corrective action by changing the script in my head. I decided to confront the voice of doom with the voice of reality. The script changed from  “I am a lazy loser” to “I am a hard working and industrious person. It is just that I have not been able to wake up early lately.”  And such a small shift in the script has brought immense relief to me. There has been peace in my head and in my life since then. Very soon after going through this process, I have been able to wake up early every morning without any struggle.

The whole process made me realize that these negative voices that go straight for my jugular, are not the reality. They are the critical voices carried and internalized from my childhood. They are the critical voices of my mother, grandmother and other significant people from my childhood. These people continue to live within me through their voices. And it is time that I reclaim myself by changing the script in my head.

The Sutta Diaries

My struggle to Quit Smoking

It is now proved beyond doubt that smoking is one of the leading causes of statistics - Anonymous

My love affair with cigarettes began several years back while on a trek with some friends . The first puffs were a disaster with me ending in a coughing bout . It took a little practice before I could exude the confidence of the chic, liberated female smoker who understands well how to hold the banal cigarette between her lips, inhale the smoke with a deep breath and then exhale it through the nostrils in a perfect orchestrated fashion . It was a feeling of great empowerment and liberation. 

Ten years later, I am struggling with trying to quit smoking. The doctor has informed me that I suffer from mild bronchitis and that every cigarette for me is equivalent to four cigarettes. My teeth are badly stained. I am full of fears. I am scared that I might end up contracting a deadly disease like cancer or that I might just die of a sudden heart attack. Or that I might just forget a lit cigarette around in the house at night resulting in me peacefully burning to ashes in my sleep.

Hence, time and again I have tried to make a commitment to myself – to try to quit smoking. And I have tried hard. 

One of the first motivations to quit smoking was to escape the bone chilling feeling of getting my teeth cleaned. It made me decide that I would not get my teeth cleaned again till I quit smoking. I thought the desperation of living with bad teeth would eventually be a motivating force powerful enough to make me quit smoking. Well, I was wrong.  I find myself in the position of having to cover my mouth with my hand while conversing with people and later on rushing to do my smoking Pranayama exercises.

Few months back, I made up my mind to quit smoking again. I decided to take the help of the wonder drug – the Nicotine gum. Hallelujah!  It worked – for a day. On the second day, I found myself enjoying a double dose of Nicotine – from the Nicotine gum as well as the cigarettes. 

 I am not a quitter. Last week I decided to give it another shot. I managed to trim down my consumption to two cigarettes a day. Every morning, I would send the maid ( who comes to clean the house) to buy one cigarette for me. After three days, she got tired . She suggested  buying a larger quantity together and hiding them inside the house. I advised her against it, educating her about my dog-nose for smokes. She refused to believe me and ignored my good advice. As was expected, I played detective and after 15 minutes of the treasure hunt found the cigarette pack neatly buried inside the rice sack in the kitchen. Luckily, she had bought only five cigarettes. The next morning, she was shocked to find them gone. I had the look of, “I told you so” on my face. 

Being a persevering person, she decided to give it another try. The next day, I discovered the cigarettes lying under the pile of old newspapers in the lobby. She gave up on the third day.

Last year, my grandmother made several big bottles of my favorite Namkeen mix for me. As she put one on my bedside, she urged me to use it as a substitute for cigarettes. I ended up smoking and putting on weight.

Two years back,  I came across an advertisement in the newspaper– “Hypnosis for Quitting Smoking”. I went for the treatment for three days in a row. For the three days, I was very hopeful, and on the fourth day , I was smoking double the usual. On a friend’s advice, I even attended a 12 step support group for quitting nicotine. The group shut down after few months due to limited membership.

I have even tried herbal stuff like St John’s wart and calming tea. My mom bought me a book  filled with ghastly images of people suffering from various kinds of diseases contracted due to smoking. I just made felt sad for these people. 

I have spent days on introspective writing , putting down things like “Why I want to quit smoking” and “Quit Smoking plans and timetables”. I thought if I had the motives and plans in place, everything else would be simple.

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired of smoking.

I seem to have tried everything under the Sun to kick this disgusting habit. Any new ideas and suggestions are welcome.

Moral of the Story :  Do not pick up that first smoke; it ain’t cool !!!