Ira Pande

How strangely ironic and satisfying — depending on how you view it — is the fact that our girls have brought us more glory than the men in the Tokyo Olympics. Haryana is a particularly interesting case study because if female infanticide was the bane of socially backward states such as Rajasthan, UP, Bihar and Haryana, its girls have now taken to those sports that were traditionally regarded as the preserve of testosterone-driven men with twirling moustaches and broad chests. What is more, they have brought home more medals than all those tough guys ever did.

The attitude of many men in these northern states towards their girls and women was an insult to the dignity of any self-respecting woman living in this century. Married women here were forced to wear long veils, never speak to men directly and regularly thrashed and sexually abused. In the eyes of their men, the only purpose of the women was to cook and slave in the kitchen, rear the children they were often forced to produce, look after the cattle and huddle in the darkest corners of the lives of their men. There are novels about how the widow of a young man was forced to marry her devar so that the family lands were not divided. I can recall Rajinder Singh Bedi’s ‘Ek Chadar Maili Si’ among many equally disturbing real-life stories that one came across. There were regular reports of little girls being choked to death or buried alive by the mother-in-law and the village midwife, or dai. Girls were seldom allowed to study beyond the first few years and if, God forbid, they fell in love with a boy from the same gotra or from an ‘inferior’ caste, she was killed off in what became infamously known as honour killing. Shockingly, these khap panchayats had the sanction of their MPs!

Such truths were never hidden because study after study drew attention to the skewed male/female ratios; social workers and activists tried to change the mental attitudes of our medieval caste-ridden societies, but to little avail. Even the setting up of a Women and Child Welfare Ministry (bad grammar there) was able to hardly make a dent. Personally, I think it was our good old Bombay film world that focused attention on the talent that was shrouded in ghunghats in films such as ‘Chak De India’, ‘Saandh ki Aankh’, ‘Dangal’, ‘Mary Kom’ (to name some I’ve seen or heard of) that gave the girls a break. Most of these were based on real-life stories and showed to an uncaring world what young girls in the remote and male-dominated rural areas had to go through in order to just stand up and be counted.

On the other hand were the metro snowflakes, whose parents have bought them expensive designer sportwear and shoes that cost as much as most of us earn in a month. I am sure they will be embarrassed when they read of the travails that many of these Olympic medal winners have gone through. The captain of our women’s Olympic team did not even have a hockey stick, leave alone suitable shoes and sportwear. She was undernourished and her parents did not have the money to buy her the packet of milk her coach wanted her to drink every day, so she used to dilute half a packet with water in order to stay in the coaching class. We have all read these stories yet they move me immeasurably each time I do. These are stories that make you proud of your gender and give you a glimpse of the immense pool of talent that lies undetected and under-represented. It is the same in the entertainment industry: tune into any talent show (‘Indian Idol’ or ‘Sa Re Ga Ma’) and get blown away by the fantastic voices and dancers these shows throw up.

If all this has still not convinced our spoilt rich brats and their pushy parents that ultimately they will be swept aside by the huge surge of ambitious and focused young men and women (the aspirational youth that we all talk about so glibly and do nothing to promote), then a big surprise is coming their way. The days of the cosy crony club of sports bodies headed by politicians and dodgy deal-makers are over: the sons of old players and powerful politicians will be nudged out by those who have hunger in their bellies. Our entitled dynasts cannot match. India is changing faster than we imagined, and even those whose voices and presence was cruelly and unfairly suppressed have decided that they have to burst out of their stifling villages and male-dominated societies. Old grannies are encouraging their talented young girls to take aim and shoot. So watch out Indian male, the great Indian puttar, like the Great Indian Bustard, is on the endangered species list now.

One day, before I leave this world, I hope I will see a Parliament with more women in colourful saris and dupattas than the ubiquitous white kurtas of our male politicians. They will represent this country’s true doers and workers. One day, there will be women driving trains and taxis, flying our planes and space ships, more women judges who will be more compassionate about issues that men consider petty and not worth their time. One day…