Sunday, February 15, 2015

Accommodating The 'Other': Making Workplaces Gender Friendly

In the context of the Tarun Tejpal and Justice Ganguly cases, which not merely occupied the centre stage of media discussions, but also raised uncomfortable issues that have been lying unaddressed for a really long time, it is important to turn a keen gaze on the matter of sexual harassment at the workplace.

With the Vishakha Guidelines, court orders and a legislation in place requiring a Sexual Harassment Prevention Cell in every organisation, it may be believed that what needs to be done has been initiated. However, that is not really the case. Given that the gender imbalance in favour of men is getting ironed out in most workplaces and that growing westernisation is creating a fairly casual culture, it is important for most forward looking organisations, to go beyond merely instituting a cell to address the issue were it to be brought to its notice, by taking measures to prevent sexual harassment at the workplace, in the first place.

With longer working hours and increasing situations for working together, it is important to generate the right atmosphere, where women feel safe and wanted and can put their best foot forward as working professionals, without feeling debilitated by their gender orientation.

And for this two simple steps need to be taken – the first being to make the workplace gender friendly with suitable infrastructure and policies that accommodate/address the specific needs of women and the second being to imbue gender sensitivity in all employees, to make them aware of what constitutes ‘improper’ behaviour, in the context of gender, the consequences of violating these norms and being proactive in penalising those who overstep the boundaries rather than pushing the matter under the carpet, so that women are given their due place and freedom in the workplace.


I have with time come to believe
That a sudden downpour would be better,
Even if it were to cause a temporary flood.
For, after all, the water would ebb,
Sooner rather than later.
And would yet leave what remains
Green and devoid of stains.
But, like a condemned cloud,
That sheds a few drops,
Before the wind carries it away
Leaving it heavy and the earth craving for more,
My tears fall but do not flow.
And, like the cloud, eternally carrying its burden
Till another opportunity comes its way
To shed a few drops,
I too carry the pain of my loss
That can never really ever go away.

An Inevitable Choice


I was up that day a little earlier than usual. The decision I was to take was to change my entire life. This was not the first time I was taking a responsible decision and given the way my life had spanned out, I knew that what came after may be very different from what I had in mind. And yet I knew that I had to take a decision, be at the helm of affairs, take charge of my own life. For, I was never really a drifter, one to shirk responsibilities or blame others for what happened in my life. That is perhaps why I had long since lost my name; for everyone who knew me always called me  Jiddi – strong willed.

I wonder whether that defined my life or shaped it. Something I will never know. Like everything else, which is just defined by perceptions, this too was the way you chose to look at it – a matter of perspective.

I thought I had lived what I had stood for: fought my way through life for what I believed in, never given up on challenges, tried to put my best foot forward in every task I accepted and took on.


And so would this decision be. One that would be true to me. On the one hand was the life of a child yet to be born, on the other a slim hope that modern day medicine would cure me. And I chose the former; for only that seemed fair, though I did not know whether my beloved and my little one would ever forgive me for it. And so when the doctor came, I unhesitatingly told him not to treat my cancer; for if I were to treat it, it would definitely affect my little one. I knew it would ravage my mind, destroy what I had struggled to remain true to and build up; but this was a decision I had to take. And so, at the risk of displeasing two of the people who mattered most to me: I chose death in life. I do hope my little one that tomorrow when you grow up in a world which might make you wonder whether it was worth it being born and living, you see my decision as the only one a mother could take. For, Dearest, isn’t that what life and decisions are all about – do they shape us or do we take them?  One will never know.  

A RATling Experience

Life is always known for its unexpected twists and turns and any change, whether in personal or professional space, is bound to come with its challenges. But I was always a veteran and thought I could tackle such changes easily, having shifted my house 22 times in a span of 43 years; yet, what I encountered recently left me RATtled.

I was quite excited with shifting to the 8th floor and lent hand to my colleague,s who were either busy or less experienced, in tackling this daunting task. The first thing we noticed was the change of view, the calming sea spread out in the distance and a new place - all to ourselves. Well but that was not to be; while we were almost looking forward to visitors, in the form of our 3rd floor colleagues and students, we were taken aback by a totally unexpected visitor – a RAT!

It wasn’t as if we hadn’t noticed the two holes that lined the outer wall of our office and we had even made efforts to tell the Maintenance about them, but well, they too were busy trying to ‘manage change’, so as days turned to weeks and weeks to months, we let it pass by.

Often visitors are noticed by their presence and their unwillingness to leave, harassing the hell out of the people they visit, but here we were, in a predicament, unique to ourselves. Our visitor was noticed by his/her absence (see I can’t even identify the gender, so unseen was s/he), underlined by the traces, s/he left for us.

In the beginning, it was crumbs, then large chunks of food, then upturned dustbins and finally the place being littered with s**t and p** (you see s/he wasn’t toilet trained)

At first, like with guests, we were tolerant; armed with sanitizers (a cleaning boon for the modern citizen), we cleaned out our workstations, after the housekeeping had swept out the remains (of all sorts) of the previous day.

Then the problem grew worse and so did our desperation. Our actions were now supplemented with phone calls, which were greeted with affirmations without action... (so typical of an Indian setup) and then by emails that brought authorities rushing up to our rescue.

The holes, after a quarter year of sustained, relentless and untiring efforts, were finally plugged. But you see, they were closed only partially and our guest had, by then, learnt the intricacies of the layout. S/he had become more familiar with it than us (after all s/he was equipped with the age old wisdom, ‘when the cat is away the mice are at play’ – the only change being there were many cats (many of us) and it was a mouse – only one.  

We thus had become strangers to peace, the proverbial hunters, equipped with varied degrees that specialised in management (except, of course, on how to manage rats)

Finally, our murderous instincts took over and we decided to poison our guest – for that seemed the only way.

Yet, much to our surprise and awe that soon turned to chagrin, our guest had digested the rat poison, we had set out for him//her and, as a vengeance, left a mark on each table. We beat a hasty retreat. And so the battle continued - human beings (man) against nature or the modern battle of space and we hoped that all management, we had ever learnt and taught, would help us to tackle this issue.


Ganpatis had come and gone along with their vehicles - the mooshik (rat), but our friend continued to be our guest. Currently the battle seems to have swung in our favour, for s/he has not been seen or heard (of) recently. We hope that unlike the Atithi in ‘Atithi Tum kab Jaogey’, we are not forced to make him/her a part of our life... 

Does It Mean

Does it mean you love me more
If you carry on being yourself
Aware of my presence
But not bothered by it;
Or the acknowledging my being there
By giving me the reaction,
You know I seek.


Does it mean you love me more
If you demand from me what you want;
Or then rather choose to do
What you think I would like.


Does it mean you love me more
If you continue being yourself
Knowing that I would understand;
Or the change those parts of your being
That you know, I don’t approve of.


Does it mean you love me more
If you involve me in all you do;
Or then leave me to my own devices
Believing that I would call you
If I needed you.


Or then does it mean
That love just exists
And it is you or I
That give it meaning
Or then, unwittingly,

Snatch it away.

The Sea

Every wave reminds me of you and her
Your quiet longing for the sea
And the sounds of the water
As you sat gazing at it quietly
For hours.
You said it brought you peace –
The rhythm and the regularity
Of the waves and stretches of sand

For her the opposite
As she squeals in delight
With every wave that comes rushing
Unable to gauge its depth and power
Every shout different and louder than the one before
Then rushing to the shore to build castles
Scattering colourful toys
That break the monotony of the sand.

Others may see in you opposites
But all I find is the sameness
Of your undying love for the sea
Binding my past to my future
In a continuum that makes all seashores
But a reflection of the others
And unfailingly draws me to them
To relive the memories
As I breathe in the air
And look longingly at the sea and sands
That carry on being themselves
Unaware of my presence
And what they mean to me.


I Know

I know I really want to weep
At your passing away
For not being there                             
To applaud my achievements
And caress me when I am hurt

I know I really want to weep
When everything reminds me of you
The moments we shared together
And our joys and disappointments    
With one another

I know I really want to weep
But when my heart aches with pain
And tears well up in my eyes
I feel your presence
In my thoughts and memories

I know I really want to weep
But then I know it will cause you pain
As it always did when I was anguished
And the tears that are flowing
Stop as suddenly as they had begun

I know I really want to weep
But I would rather have your comfort
Than have you in pain
So that I can find comfort in your arms
For just that little longer

I know I really want to weep
But the tears I will shed
Are the ones that will well up
In the eyes of others
As something I do

Reminds someone of you.