The Deaths We Won't Hear Of by Tara Kaushal

June 2013: Last fortnight, I wrote about Jiah Khan’s high-profile suicide. Here, I talk about another suicide, a story of quiet desperation that will never make headlines.

Robin started working with our family—my parents and I—in Delhi in the early 2000s, an earnest and smart 16-year-old boy from a poverty-stricken family in a small village in Bengal. Not to be immodest, but our family has always taken care of help as well as these guidelines being issued for ‘Compassion Day’, and Robin moved cities with us—first to Chennai with my ex-husband and I, then to Dehradun for my father’s palliative care, then with me to Mumbai when dad died, mum moved to Australia and I got divorced… and finally to Hong Kong with my Aunt Alice and Uncle Romi in 2007. Here, he earned upwards of 30,000 bucks a month, making him a veritable success story in his village, a young English-speaking, Facebook-ing mover-and-shaker NRI, buying land, putting his three siblings—one brother and two sisters—through school, and breaking the vicious cycle brought on by generations of poverty. Earlier this year, when Alice and Romi moved back to Australia, he returned for a holiday before starting another job in Hong Kong, where he’d like to stay.

A few Saturday mornings ago, I awoke to a flurry of cross-country/continent phone calls—Robin’s younger sister had set herself on fire, and was critical in hospital. And this is how and why he says it happened.

A couple of months ago, Robin’s older sister was being harassed in college. When he went to “sort it out”, the siblings were beaten by a gang of goons (30, by his account). So when his younger sister, studying in the 10th standard, got recurrently 'eve teased', she didn’t tell the family. Probably thought: what’s the point? Instead, when one of the boys tried to hold her hand on the street, she came home, doused herself in kerosene, and set herself on fire. And, despite the best treatment his dollars could afford, Jharna was dead a few days later.

There are so many things wrong with this tragedy. To start with, although one reads about such things, it is hard to imagine being in circumstances so disempowering and lawless that you’d get harassed in college and on the street, and your family beaten up with impunity for seeking redress. It is hard to fathom just how socioculturally important a woman’s ‘virtue’ is, or being so indoctrinated with the burden of ones own ‘virtue’ that being 'eve teased' and touched would lead to self-blame and suicide; a far cry from the topless FEMEN protesters ‘Still Not Asking For It’ who represent the way one thinks. It is hard to reconcile with the horror of this society, this system and this situation; hard to empathise with these protagonists.

But this is reality.

Incredibly, as if this recent trauma wasn’t enough, local priests have been preying on this beleaguered family: Jharna’s ghost is apparently haunting the village, and only an expensive pooja will get rid of it, you see. The family will pay, for fear of being ostracised.

What’s worse is that Jharna’s death will remain unacknowledged, just like scores of other women’s. The media will never tell her story—unlike Jiah, Jharna was just another young girl. And Robin isn’t going to file a police complaint in the interest of communal peace (the men who 'eve teased' her are distant relatives in his small village: one is an unmarried 36-year-old who apparently ‘loved’ the teenager), particularly because he’ll leave for Hong Kong soon. In measured words he tells me, “Didi, the fight for justice is long and hard, Ma-Baba mein himmat nahi hai. And who knows what these people will do to my old parents if we pursue them.” Though he’s angry (“Maarne ka man karta hai”), he’s also stoic and reconciled—“Our family is destroyed, what will we achieve by destroying theirs now? What’s done is done.”

Since much before the Delhi Gang Rape, us armchair activists have been discussing feminism, equality, female empowerment in our living rooms and fancy cars, in our high-brow English columns, while living free, independent, liberated lives ensconced in little bubbles. Our battles are against glass ceilings, for ‘evolved’ feminist concerns like judgement-free promiscuity, maiden surnames and independent choice. When I hear stories like this one, I can’t help but wonder at the frivolity of our elite concerns, in light of the female infanticide, dowry harassment, education and social discrimination, marital rape, etc that less privileged Indian women, the majority, face. I am reminded that there are so many Indias, so many realities, so great a divide between ‘us’ and the nameless, faceless, voiceless ‘them’. And that, for the aam aurat, there are far more basic battles yet to be won. 


An edited version of this column appeared in Governance Now in June 2013.

Jiah: Self-esteem, Suicide & Suraj by Tara Kaushal

June 2013: Making sense of this heartbreak nonsense.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’d gladly have read about something else, something of more enduring importance, than Jiah Khan’s suicide and its aftermath. Instead, the story of this 25-year-old has dominated national news, and we’ve all vicariously watched the saga unfold, put her life and personality under a microscope, read her very personal suicide note and tsk-tsked about her tragedy.

Before her suicide note was found belatedly, her mother and the media placed most of the blame on her failing career, a little on her break-up with Suraj Pancholi, son of actors Aditya Pancholi and Zarina Wahab. Since its discovery and her description of heartbreak and pain, poor 22-year-old Suraj is behind bars for abetment, domestic violence and whatever else.

There is no doubt Jiah was in love. There is no doubt the relationship was tumultuous, the break-up was a bad one and Suraj behaved like a jerk through both. To be fair to him, when one analyses Jiah’s suicide note past her impassioned pain and our own haze of pity for the recently departed, she wasn’t blameless in the tumultuousness of the relationship. There was psycho-type clingy behaviour; emotional blackmail (“After all the pain, the rape, the abuse, the torture I have seen previously I didn’t deserve this”); game-playing (“I never met anyone with Karthik, I just wanted you to feel how you make me feel constantly”); hyper-sensitivity (“It hurt me so much that I waited for you for ten days and you didn’t bother buying me something”); drama (“No other woman will give you as much as I did or love you as much as I did. I can write that in my blood”); and one-sided blame for the pregnancy and abortion. Was she right to expect an out-of-work 22-year-old, clearly not finished with sowing his wild oats, whose “life was about partying and women”, to marry, have a baby? What about his right to choose who to be with, and when?

Nonetheless, none of this should have been cause enough for Jiah to take her life, or for Suraj to be considered an abettor. As much as I empathise with a 25-year-old who felt her life wasn’t worth living, there is only one person who caused the suicide: Jiah did.

What was Jiah Khan without Suraj Pancholi? According to her suicide note, she had “nothing left in this world to live for after this” and “nothing to lose”. With a little more self-esteem, she would have realised that life is greater than the sum of its parts—that love, break-up, a low phase in one’s career aren’t worth committing suicide over.

Particularly this love-shuv business. Didn’t she get the memos? That one can live a full life, with or without love, certainly with or without marriage. That we must look past our Cinderella Complexes and rom-com-ified reality to see love is not the be-all-and-end-all of life. Neither is it a cakewalk, ever-exciting, hunky-dorky or permanent. That modern singles should look for someone to compliment his/her life, not complete it, let alone subsume it (“I lost myself in loving you”). That break-ups can be painful, during which some people can take the ‘all’s fair in love and war’ adage quite literally. That there is no taboo in being single (or even dating a string of people, until someone right sticks, or doesn’t), and that being single is infinitely better than being in an abusive relationship. Hell, why would you even want to be in a relationship with someone who cheated on you, abused you and treated you the way Suraj treated you? And, instead of calling the cops on this “torturer” (does he get this from his dad?), you then kill yourself over its end, when the cerebral in you should have been celebrating? Where are your brains, where is your self-esteem, woman, I ask again. "Power is being told you are not loved and not being destroyed by it," said Madonna. Where is the power that should have lay within you?

What worries me is that suicide is known to be contagious, especially to highly susceptible teens. There must be some gullible little girls out there who glorified Jiah’s achievements, as meagre as she thought they were. She debuted opposite Amitabh Bachchan, for heaven’s sake, and starred in a blockbuster opposite Aamir Khan! She had time to regain lost glory, she was only 25. Unlike Britney Spears and other troubled stars’ well-documented descent in to chaos, there were no chips in her public image, though it may have lost a little sheen. What message have these little girls received from the suicide of an apparently happy, successful-ish star? Particularly the despair-filled suicide note, that I'm not sure her mother should have released to the media.

A traditional stereotype of a heartbreak-based Madhubala-esque tragic heroine is now reinforced: even someone like Jiah could believe her life was not worth living without the love of a man, however abusive. And even she, a modern, ‘liberated’ woman didn’t seek help—family, friends, counselling—when she clearly needed it, so how does one encourage a lovesick teenager to reach out?

I have been watching the comings and goings of the Pancholi house from my balcony, replete with police and media. Fortunately, at the time of going to press, sense seemed to be dawning, and the case of abetment against Suraj will probably be dropped. On the assumption that he just wanted to break-up, not have her die, this makes sense: he’s behaved mean-spirited and badly, but certainly not illegally. The domestic abuse charges might stick, to prove a point, though they will be hard to prove in court. 

Jiah said Suraj destroyed her life. In her death, she has seriously impacted his—young still, his name will forever be associated with this tragedy, replete with the judgement and/or pity. Spoilt star child or not, unless there’s a serious psychopath hiding under his stoic exterior, he’s shaken up, both about Jiah personally, and the police and media aspects. Let’s just let him go.


An edited version of this column appeared in Governance Now in June 2013.

DINK, Forever by Tara Kaushal

May 2013: Like us, more and more Double Income No Kids couples today are choosing to stay that way. Why, and why not?

Shortly after we hit our first wedding anniversary, the questions started. First, it was family, asking us for the euphemistic ‘Good News’. Then, it was ‘just curious’, well-meaning friends: “When are you guys planning kids?” Soon, Facebook too jumped on the bandwagon, and has started targeting me for maternity wear and baby product ads. To its intuitive algorithm and society alike, recently married plus over thirty equals wannabe mommy.

Maybe not. When we tell people that Sahil and I don’t want kids, most are gobsmacked, others are more curious; and all want an explanation. So here’s ours: I don’t really like kids (Sahil does, but others’), and neither of us wants the responsibility. We love our full, chaotic lives; we’re workaholics who socialise like we’re 21 and travel at whim. We’re impatient and self-involved. The idea of a tiffin-school-bus routine at 6 AM makes us baulk. Plus, there’s the daunting expense. We like being Double Income No Kids and involved pet parents.

When I recently spent the day with a childhood friend who is now a full-time mother of two under-fives, I was further convinced. She’s a beautiful, patient parent, catering to their every whim, a high-stress 24x7 job that leaves her with not a minute for herself. As we walked around the park pushing the stroller, one eye on her son playing, she said, “When friends tell me there’s family pressure to have children, I tell them this is something they should do for themselves, no one else. If you’re going to resent your kids for the five-six intense years and a lifetime of responsibility, don’t do it. You’re bringing up human beings.” And I was thinking: being a favourite aunty is one thing, daily parenting is quite another.

There are counter-arguments to every pro-child argument. I don’t buy in to this idealising and romanticising of pregnancy and the motherhood myth, and don’t see parenting as ‘the most important thing you can do with your life’. Unguaranteed eternal love and support in ones old age for a lifetime of responsibility does not seem to be worth it, neither is there undisputed evidence that kids ‘bind’ couples together. Legacy, family name are inconsequential issues (an auto driver I had a long conversation with in Delhi said I was shunning my "duty").

No one is genetically perfect, and eugenics isn’t fool-proof anyway: remember the anecdote, variously attributed to Nobel Prize-winner Anatole France and dancer Isadora Duncan, playwright GB Shaw and Duncan, and even playwright Arthur Miller and Marilyn Monroe. She, the beauty, apparently said to him, the brain: “Would it not be wonderful if we could have a child who had your brains and my beauty?” His reply was, “Yes, but supposing it had your brains and my beauty!”

One could argue that our sex drives naturally exist for procreation. But I believe we must evolve psychologically and socially beyond biology. We’ve taken the first step: most of the sex we have is for pleasure. The second step is realising that the human race does not need to produce more young; if anything, our race is under greatest threat from an exploding population, and its impact on the planet. Is a desire for ones own young important enough to leave a carbon footprint as large as a life?

To my mind, the only compelling argument is evidence that the woman’s body needs to give birth to fend off certain cancers and other diseases.

These are our reasons. In what could be a sign of impending demographic change, I know three or four other similarly inclined educated, urban couples, whose reasons vary from not liking kids, to not feeling mature or wealthy enough to have them, to a whole combination of arguments listed above. One couple, married over 10 years, talks about how its childlessness is assumed to be a problem, not voluntary. Pushing public-private boundaries, people have asked them if they’re undergoing infertility treatment and put collective social pressure on their personal lives. “They cannot fathom that this is what anyone would choose or that this is a choice we have the right to make.”

We all know people who should never have become parents, whose kids you cross your fingers for. I am reminded of lines from my favourite poem, ‘Right To Life’ by Marge Piercy. It is pro-abortion, and focuses on the wellbeing of both mother and child: "Every baby born has a right to love/ like a seedling to sun. Every baby born/ unloved, unwanted, is a bill that will come/ due in twenty years with interest, an anger/ that must find a target, a pain that will/ beget pain." If there was less pressure and obligation, if saying you don’t like children and want none wasn’t treated like abject blasphemy, if having children was treated as a choice and not an assumption, if childlessness wasn’t presumed to be a medical problem to be treated with pity, perhaps more people would see having children as a lifestyle decision, much like having a pet. They would ask themselves if they’re each ready, emotionally, financially, if child rearing is right for them, not just the indoctrinated, unreasonable, socially ingrained "bacché toh karne hi chahiye" statement I got from my domestic worker.

Minds change, mistakes happen, so maybe we’ll end up having an adopted or biological child or two. But I ask Sahil if we’ll wake up one morning, past my childbearing years, and want a child. “We can always adopt then,” he says, matter-of-factly. “Genetics are a funny, unpredictable thing anyway.”


An edited version of this column appeared in Governance Now in May 2013.

Spoil Sports by Tara Kaushal

May 2013: An analysis of women, sports and gender issues in India.

Three months ago, I resumed playing badminton after an 18-year sabbatical. When I last played, at 12, it was one of the many sports I played thanks to my Naval Officer father who encouraged—forced—three/four hours of play on me every day. On days we’re not shooting or I’m not meeting a frantic article deadline, my spouse and I reach the gymkhana a little before the start of the adults’ slot, as the kids are finishing up their 3-7 timings.

Bucking the trend in this predominantly sedentary country is a group of about 20 boys that plays regularly. These eight to thirteen-year-olds are all madly passionate, and some are rather good, shaming me for my lack of stamina and flexibility. In this age group, I have seen just one little girl playing, a dismal 5% of the bunch. 

Since April, I’ve noticed a whole herd of 15-year-old girls, abject beginners who’ve never played a sport before. They’re here just after their boards, often prompted by their parents, to lose the weight they gained during the intense preparation months (or maybe always had), in anticipation of starting college. Ditto on the tennis and squash courts.

This, and the recent IPL have got me thinking: what is the role of sport in Indian women’s lives, and the role of women in Indian sport?  

The gymkhana where I play is in, arguably, one of Mumbai’s most fancy neighbourhoods. Kids here are wealthy, go to upmarket schools and many go abroad for further studies—society a far cry from a stereotyped India, it would seem, where girls don’t play with boys and help their mothers with household chores after school, if they even go. Yet, few play sport, and exercise is only prioritised for weight loss and to look good.

Looking good also seems to be the only way in which women can participate in the IPL, whether to become a female commentator or a gyrating cheerleader, team-owners and their wives notwithstanding. Young, busty women have peppered this spectacle for its six seasons, knowing little, asking inane questions, providing—and expected to provide—nothing but glam and risqué interludes to the ecosystem of this sportainment.

If the media reflects society, and society reflects the media, we—a country in the throes of introspection about women, and their rights and roles—are stuck in a vicious never-ending cycle of misogyny and chauvinism. Through a medium that reaches far more people than Mary Kom’s boxing win or articles about her inspiring story, these PYTs offsetting the brawny boys on the field and the brainy ones in the commentary box reinforces traditional sexist gender roles. Who are we making our role models and what gender roles are we propagating? 

It is these gender roles that make scores of young women believe that their bodies are only valuable for their aesthetic appeal, and sport and exercise is only for weight loss—health benefits be damned. I also remember reading an article by the father of a girl who died of bulimia, who blamed his ex-wife for causing her deep-seated self-esteem issues. The wife would, apparently, serve her daughter only skimmed milk and son regular milk, as ‘girls must be slim’.

I have, no doubt, been one of the victims of this misogynistic vanity. Many factors conspired to make me quit sports at 12—my father left the Navy, and I moved far from the sporting culture and facilities of the military. I ballooned, and spent my teens and twenties on one diet after another, sporadically dancing and walking, with weight loss being my sole agenda.

And this is me, who has been able to analyse the media’s influence on my body image and knew all the other, more important reasons to exercise. I also continued to get my fair share of attention, even with the excess weight. But that was just intellectual understanding. It is not until a few years ago, under the influence of my friends, sports-loving Sowmya, who has the healthiest body image I know, and Jordyn, a fitness trainer who believes in ‘wellistic wholeness’, that I embraced the idea of loving my body for itself, and for the starring role it plays in my life and lifestyle. No media can convince me that one-size-fits-all or that I am only as good as my body looks. 

Far before weight loss and beauty become overriding concerns, parents should put their girls on courts and on fields, and counter the misogyny in our sports and other entertainment. Because for me, a relapsed sports addict, playing for these two serotonin-infused hours every day is about many positive things, including feminism and individualism. I’m in the hallowed male bastion of sports (and I’m playing, not being eye-candy). Fitness as opposed to weight loss alone is a greater, more wholesome body-view than the media propagates. And, there’s the most important factor: if it is my life’s agenda to never let my gender come in the way of living my life, so too with my health and fitness. My body should allow me to leap with the wind in my hair and dance until the sun comes up; withstand a genetic predisposition to heart disease and diabetes; or run and fight for my safety.

So should yours and your daughters’.


An edited version of this column appeared in Governance Now in May 2013.

Is Porn Making Indian Men Rape? by Tara Kaushal

May 2013: Contesting the recent petition to punish the viewing of pornography, I explore its history and proliferation; and propose that the psychosocial solutions to the rape epidemic include creating a liberal society and the legalisation of the porn industry.

Recently, during the investigation after the rapists of the five-year-old in Delhi were captured, it emerged that the two accused had been drinking and watching porn before they decided to find this child to rape. It prompted Indore-based advocate Kamlesh Vaswani to file a writ petition in the Supreme Court seeking a change in internet laws that would make watching pornography a non-bailable offence. Porn’s roles in the rape and the subsequent petition have raised a whole host of questions about its sociocultural impact on society.

The History, Evolution & Nature of Pornography

Pornography is a Christian Western creation. Erotic paintings, sculpture, music and literature have been a part of ancient Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Greek and Roman civilisations, which associated sexual acts with supernatural forces, divinity and fertility. In India, the Kama Sutra, Tantrik practices and the Khajuraho temples were instructions on and depictions of an activity that was a part of mainstream life, religion and culture. However, with the advent of Christianity in the West, the Bacchanalian and Satyrical elements of Greek and Roman cultures, which celebrated the body and the fertility rituals from across Europe, were slowly relegated to the level of ‘pagan’ practices and banned by the Church. 

The complicated relationship that dominant religion and culture today has with sex, sexuality and pornography can be traced to the birth of modern religions that virtually ‘outlawed’ sex. Judeo-Christian-Islamic religions believe in ultimate judgement and an absolute apocalypse, so sex for pleasure is considered morally wrong and a waste of precious time. The sexual repression born of this philosophy found expression in pornography.

Various technological inventions have allowed pornography to reach mass media and culture. The printing press, invented in 1440, allowed the mass production of pornographic literature. Photography began with the daguerreotype in 1839 and the calotype process, invented in 1841, made the mass production of nude portraits possible. Halftone printing, developed in 1880, caused the multiplication of pornographic magazines—that published nudes as ‘artistic’, ‘scientific’ or ‘naturist’ subjects—as it made the reproduction of photographs inexpensive. When moving pictures were invented in 1894, nudity and sex were standard fare, as evident in mainstream movies such as Traffic in Souls (America, 1913) and A Free Ride (America, 1915). The VCR brought pornography into the privacy of the home in 1972. And the technology boom since the 1980s has caused pornography’s rapid growth and evolution. Inexpensive recording equipment and the ability to manipulate images have both improved the quality of professionally produced pornography and increased the production of amateur pornography. The internet and mobile revolution has also been the ‘porn revolution’. With the anonymity it allows, not only can pornography—legal and illegal—be traded with relative security, it can be viewed and interacted with in complete privacy.

Criminologist Berl Kutchinsky believes that modern pornography originated in the 1650s with the appearance of three classic novels—La Puttana Errante (Italy), L'Ecole des Filles (France) and Satyra Sotadica (France). 

To view pornography solely as a deviant expression would be a very limiting view. Pornography has been used as a powerful tool for political protest. During the Enlightenment (early 1700s) and around the Revolution (1789-1799), the French used pornography for political and social satire—attacking the Catholic Church and sexual repression, like Marquis de Sade’s work, published during and after the Revolution, arguably more provoking and rebellious than sexually arousing. French pornography had lost most of its political agenda by the 1920s. However, pornography continues to be used to satirise religion—particularly in strongly religious countries. Latin American pornography after World War II focused on defaming the Church. Through brutal depictions of humiliating sexual treatment meted out on women, it attacked the concept of the Virgin Mary and the Immaculate Conception, which were the very basis of Roman Catholicism practiced in these countries. 

A certain kind of ethos has produced a certain kind of pornography. Pornography is a reflection of and reaction to and against the moral and sexual mores of the time. And the more repressive the age, the greater the demand for pornography—the rigid bourgeois morality around the Victorian Era (1837-1901) caused the development of a thriving sexual sub-culture with much pornography and prostitution. Pornography usually merged the theme of man’s power over a woman’s virtue—the desire to defile and humiliate the ‘good (modest) woman’—with an atmosphere of feverish sensuality with emphasis on the preliminaries, such as in Raped on the Railway (1894) and Sadopaideia (1907).

The switch curled wickedly around her legs and between her thighs. After one or two cuts, which evidently reached the tenderest spots, she began to cry for mercy. Her legs swung out here and there trying to dodge the cuts, and ever and anon I had a glimpse of the little virginal crack and the soft fair hair just beginning to shield it. When her bottom began to show marks, I let her go... (Anonymous, Sadopaideia)

Pornography and society have a symbiotic relationship: pornography reflects and influences society, just as society reflects and influences it. According to social commentator Tina Lorenz, pornography has always been more interesting than sex to get to know a moment in history. At the end of World War I, sexually graphic and minimally plotted ‘stag films’—for men only—became popular. During World War II, ‘pinups’—erotic photographs soldiers pinned to their walls—objectified women’s bodies in fragmented ways: mostly legs in the 1940s and breasts in the 1950s. Playboy, the world’s most successful soft-core magazine, was launched in America in 1953, with a centrefold spread of Marilyn Monroe.

Social, economic and political factors converged to diminish sexual repression, prudery and the hold of religion on the Western youth in the 1960s. This freedom allowed sexual explicitness to enter literature, film and popular culture. Much pornography reflects the paradox of changing mores—the want for sexual liberation yet the need for possession and stability.

We made love as though it were the last time. I wanted to swallow her whole, to possess her fully and finally, and simultaneously to destroy her, to make it impossible for her ever to do this with anyone else. (Marco Vassi, The Gentle Degenerates, 1970)

In India, far before Savita Bhabhi, Desi Fantasy and poorly produced clips took the internet by storm, were stories by ‘Mast Ram’, a pseudonym adopted by writers of Hindi porn since the 1980s. Debonair, an adult magazine modelled on Playboy has been around since 1971; the titillating Crime & Detective, that sells upwards of two lakh copies a month, started in 1984.

In the Eye of the Storm
Pornography has faced censure, criticism and censorship for various reasons over the ages. Though governments and religious bodies down the ages always tried to clamp down on pornography, it is in the 18th century that this censorship gained ground. In the West, the latest anti-pornography movement, which focussed on the harms rather than the morals of pornography, started as a reaction against the violent sex films of the 1960s. The imagery and sadism of Blood Feast (America, 1963) and other sexploitation films are alarming, as blood rather than semen is the symbolic fluid of erotic expression. In the late 1960s, Germaine Greer started and edited Suck, a magazine that promoted ‘healthy’ pornography.

In India, the media and society’s eye has been trained on gender, sexuality and violence since the Delhi Rape in December last year. And this attack on pornography is the most recent fallout of the outrage, of a society seeking answers to the horrific demons it is creating. But is criminalising pornography the real answer? 

What is pornography’s impact, and does it lead to violence?

No doubt, there are negative effects of pornography.

It has resulted in the sexualisation and pornophication of mass media: over the last century more urban, educated women the world over are taking control of their bodies and sexual identities. The destabilisation of traditional gender roles in mass media was at its peak in the 1990s, and women were beginning to be portrayed as powerful, intellectual, independent beings, comfortable with their bodies and sexuality. However, traditional gender definitions have resurfaced in mass media since the millennium, probably because pornography has gone mainstream, a phenomenon called ‘porn chic’ by British media researcher Brian McNair. Women in pornography are stereotypes—meek, subservient and sexual. At first glance, women showing their bodies and displaying their sexuality in every music video are indicators of great liberation. However, on deeper analysis, the display of the eroticised female body is no more than the objectification of women, catering to a phallic gaze. Owing to pornography, the representation of women is shrinking back into one of two traditional roles—the sexualised object of masculine desire and/or ‘the angel in the house’.

Women are frequently coerced in to the porn industry; and often made to perform painful sequences and positions. Pornography also provides an avenue to express hatred or anger against a particular woman or women in general, particularly when men feel powerless against or rejected by them. For instance, much pornography in the period leading up to the French Revolution targeted Marie Antoinette. When women were gaining economic and professional control while men fought in the World Wars, the depiction of women as passive and submissive increased in erotic movies. The misuse of technology, such as morphing and spy and phone cameras, has resulted in the violation of privacy and the sexual misrepresentation of celebrities and normal women alike. And when private sex acts are taped and circulated, inadvertently or not, the woman still bears the brunt of the censure.

But a debate rages on whether violent and/or non-violent pornography makes men sexually violent, with both camps presenting equally strong arguments and valid studies.

Anti-pornography feminists, conservatives, fundamentalist Christians, some psychologists and criminologists, and now Mr Vaswani believe that pornography can cause men to be violent towards women as it
i) Causes objectifying and dehumanising of women and female sexuality
ii) Perpetuates rape myths
iii) Increases acceptance of interpersonal violence
iv) Propagates the belief in male dominance in intimate relationships

Dr Catharine MacKinnon and Andrea Dworkin and groups like Anti-Porn Feminists and the Women Against Violence in Pornography believed pornography solidified a phallic patriarchal power. Most third-wave feminists disagree.

Colin and Damon Wilson believe that the steep increase in sex crimes in the 19th century can be directly linked to the development of the imagination and pornography. For some, normal sexual relations cannot satisfy the intense desire that reading pornography causes, leading them to seek more perverse, violent and fetishist sexual outlets.

[I]magination was pushing human beings towards the dividing line between the “permitted” and the “forbidden”. Andsince forbiddenness (sic) is another name for criminalitytowards the criminal. Since Victorian pornography, this criminal element has become all-important. Now it is a question of seeking out the forbidden for its own sake. (The Killers Among Us: Sex, Madness and Mass Murder, 1995)

However, other data shows that pornography and violence may have an inverse relationship. Countries like Denmark and Sweden, where pornography has been easily available, have a very low per capita crime rate, as does Japan, in spite of its very violent pornography (though great social factors may be at play there). The internet’s delivery of pornography to every doorstep may be the reason for the steep decline in sexual crimes in the United States since 1993. 

In his 2007 essay ‘Rape, Porn and Criminality: Political Truth on Trial’, Anthony D’Amato of Northwestern University School of Law theorises:

[S]ome people watching pornography may “get it out of their system” and thus have no further desire to go out and actually try it. Another possibility might be labelled the “Victorian effect”: the more that people covered up their bodies with clothes in those days, the greater the mystery of what they looked like in the nude… But today, internet porn has thoroughly de-mystified sex.

While feminist icon Naomi Wolf’s essay ‘The Porn Myth’ focuses on the pressure pornography puts on ordinary women to measure up to porn stars in looks as well as sexual prowess, the basis of her argument is that pornography is, in fact, numbing the male libido in relation to real women.

It then boils down to the questiondoes pornography feed the imagination or satisfy it?

Liberalise, Legalise
Over the ages, the dominant criticism of pornography has been on various groundsit has been seen as obscene, immoral, irreligious and most recently, anti-feminist and violence-causing.

Pornography is a reaction against sexual repression. I believe that the sexual liberation, and the interest and studies about female sexuality that have been the result of pornography—along with other factors—are very important from a sociological point of view. Women have gained sexual rights and respect as a result of having independent sexual identities. The acknowledgement of female sexual needs has resulted in the expectation of fulfilment—women are allowed to express sexual dissatisfaction. A woman having sex is no longer seen as a deviation—as pornography brings sex into the open and ensures it gets talked about. Slowly but surely, pornography, in conjunction with other social, political and economic factors is helping remove the ‘good woman’/’bad woman’ judgemental distinction that women have had to live with as part of inherited Victorian social norms. With the birth control pill and legalised abortions, women can be untroubled by unwanted pregnancies. Virtuousness and acceptance are no longer at odds with sexuality.

If watching pornography can provide a sexual outlet and channelise the sexual impulses of men who might otherwise get sexually aggressive towards women, I see no reason why it should be banned or limited.

There are ways to justify and counter the negatives of pornography. For one, the industry should be legalised. While playing a part in pornographic films is a woman’s choice, stronger laws must be enforced regarding exploitation and sexual targeting. Women today must embrace—and indeed flaunt—their sexuality while portraying independence and strength and avoiding the media’s tendency to exploit female sexuality to cater to men.

The rise of pornography has increased the need for intense comprehensive sexuality education to counter the unreasonable expectations, depictions and myths that pornography propagates. It is also important to spread the message of safe sex. Most important is to create a strong culture where women are respected, as, far before these rape accused were exposed to porn, they were brought up in a culture of patriarchy and misogyny that allowed them to believe that women and their bodies are at the mercy of men and their wills.

Banning or limiting the consumption of pornography is not possible—Vaswani’s petition alleges that Indians have access to more than 200 million clips; and it is everywhere, on a majority of PCs and mobiles, across sociocultural barriers, in towns, cities and villages. Imagine a law and order situation if our courts and jails were stuffed full of every recreational porn user! Even if it was possible, I believe it’s unnecessary and will only lead to a murkier underground with more avenues for exploitation. Instead, even the creation and sale of pornography should be regularised and controlled by strong laws that keep its negatives at bay.


An edited version of this article appeared in Governance Now in May 2013.

Interview: Ingrid Newkirk by Tara Kaushal

April 2013: The founder of People for Ethical Treatment of Animals, the world famous animal rights organisation, talks about PETA and animal rights in India.

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What are yours and PETA's agenda for animal rights? What are the beliefs that guide you?

PETA and all PETA affiliates are driven by the burning desire to open people’s eyes to the fact that all living beings deserve consideration and must not be treated cruelly in a myriad of ways simply because we don’t think, are ignorant of their nature and sentience, or feel we can get away with abusing them without consequence. We believe in respect for all, doing away with the caste system that allows others of all types to be exploited and abused, the lack of reasoning and decency that allows people to believe their own race is superior to the others, that men are more important than women, and that the interests and feelings of all other species who happen not to have been born human, can be tossed aside. We do not believe might should make right. And if everyone accepts these premises, then we will have a better society and an acceptance of animal rights.

What is the animal rights situation in India? In what way is the situation here better or worse than the world over? 

India has traded on her reputation as a country in which animals are often revered, but some of its citizens have drifted so far from the ideal in that in the name of religion, a male elephant is kept frustrated in chains for life, bellowing and trying to break away to be who God or Nature has intended him to be; a ‘sacred’ cow is likely nowadays to live in a factory farm dairy and be manipulated with harsh drugs to produce more milk and her beloved calf is taken from her so that we can steal every drop of milk that was intended for him. There is no romance in the reality for Nandi, the bull, who has a bleeding nose from a rope thrust through his septum, a bed of nails tied to his side to gouge him if he turns to the right or left, and a heavy yoke on his back as he trudges overladen with sugarcane from the factory. In Mumbai, horses are forced to haul loads of tourists, and you see them tottering along on swollen ankles, pulling Victorias—a carriage that is a relic of a bygone time. Indians were by and large vegetarians but are turning away from this traditional, compassionate, healthy diet and courting diabetes, heart disease and cancers with their new interest in eating animal flesh. The leather goods and meat in India come from among the worst slaughterhouses in the world. Cows and other animals are crammed onto trucks in such high numbers that their bones shatter, they suffocate or die en route to slaughter. Those who survive are hacked at with dull knives in full view of others.

On the other hand, India has the Animal Welfare Board of India. Set up in 1962 in accordance with Section 4 of the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act 1960, the first of its kind animal welfare organisation to be established by any government in the world. It is also following in the footsteps of the EU by moving toward a ban on testing cosmetics on animals, has humane education in many school systems so as to better prepare children for a world in which they can make kind or cruel choices, and following in the release of PETA India’s video exposes such as ‘Glass Walls’—the first comprehensive video expose of what happens to animals for meat, eggs or dairy—numerous people are choosing to switch to a vegan diet. In fact, vegan groups are popping up everywhere including the Mumbai Vegans, Bengaluru Vegans, Chennai Vegan Drinks and more. There are vegan shoes and vegan handbags and vegan everything!

In what ways is PETA India working towards animal rights in India?

In India we are working on numerous initiatives. This includes ending the use of animals to train students, and now because of our efforts and those of progressive scientists and politicians, the use of animals to train medical, pharmacy, zoology, life sciences and dentistry students has been banned. That said, despite the ban, some universities including Delhi University are still using animals, which is outrageous. PETA India is working to ensure the ban is enforced. We are also pushing through our seats on Bureau of Indian Standard Committees to end the use of animals to test cosmetics and household products. Following our pressure and that of MP Maneka Gandhi, the Drugs Controller General of India, Dr GN Singh, declared in the last BIS meeting regarding cosmetics that animal tests will be suspended until satisfactory validated non-animal methods are included in the current safety standard.

We are also working to end Jallikattu, a cruel so-called bull ‘taming game’ played in southern India, and have caught on video participants feeding bulls alcohol, stabbing them with knives and rubbing irritants in their nostrils in order to force them to run. These bulls have crashed head first into busses and into people’s homes while running for their lives and have died or shattered their bones in the process. We are also working to push the government to ban the use of all animals in circuses. Many species of animals are already banned, but of course no animal wants to be chained, whipped, separated from all that’s natural and comfortable, including from their families, and forced to perform daft tricks. We have convinced the Election Council of India not to permit animals to be used in political rallies, persuaded Jet Airways to promise that it will not transport animals to laboratories, and together with wonderful activists helped save 70 beagles from cruel tests (these beagles are now in loving homes). Millions of children will learn how to respect animals and peacefully coexist with them now that the Central Board of Secondary Education has endorsed our humane education programme, Compassionate Citizen, on its website and is requiring all CBSE schools to use this beautiful programme as part of their school curriculum. PETA also worked with the Animal Welfare Board of India to successfully encourage it to classify the common crushing method of castrating bulls as a violation of The Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act, 1960. The AWBI states that all bulls must now be castrated under anaesthesia by a veterinarian rather than have their testicles crushed with a rock while they are fully aware. We’ll see how long it takes to implement this vital directive.

I’m also happy to say that PETA India's youth division reached thousands of young people in the last year alone with information about cruelty to animals by partnering with Submerge, Sunburn, Nokia Indiafest; we attended and leafleted and showed videos at more than 130 college events in that time span. These are just some of the many initiatives PETA India is working on, so it’s all quite exciting.

What do you think of the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals law in India? Some say it, and the Animal Welfare Board of India, lacks teeth. What do you think of the law itself, and its implementation? And how does PETA interact with the AWBI?

The AWBI had formulated a draft Animal Welfare Act, 2011, and submitted it to the Ministry of Environment and Forests to replace the outdated Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act, 1960. However, two years after the draft was submitted, it continues to simply collect dust.

Currently, the penalty for cruelty to animals is too weak to act as a deterrent. It is between 10 to 50 rupees for the first offence, which may go up to 100 rupees for a subsequent offence or up to three months in prison. The new proposed Animal Welfare Act, 2011, if passed in the form submitted by the AWBI, would result in the penalty for cruelty to animals being at least between 10,000 and 25,000 rupees or imprisonment for up to two years—or both—for a first offence. For a subsequent offence, the penalty would be between 50,000 and one lakh rupees and imprisonment for one to three years.

The chairman of the AWBI, Dr Kharb, is a very kind-hearted man. PETA works very closely with the AWBI and him. In fact, recently, when we learned that the Elephant Festival in Jaipur planned to use elephants without obtaining AWBI permission, we worked with the AWBI to get the planned cruel uses of elephants (polo, tug-of war, rides) stopped. But many decisions, such as the passing of the draft Animal Welfare Act, need to be made at the central government level. And fast.


An edited version of this interview appeared in Governance Now in April 2013.

‘Self Arranged’: The Online Matrimonial Mantra by Tara Kaushal

April 2013: How urban Indians use matrimonial sites has changed, and what these changes mean.

I recently met an old friend, and we got chatting about how he met the person he had married. “We met online,” he said. “Don’t tell me you met on Shaadi.com,” I exclaimed with my usual disdain of arranged marriages. “Actually, we did… I saw her profile, liked what she said about wanting an equal partner and being feminist, paid three and a half thousand to get her number, and called her.” Rajiv and Niharika dated for two years before marrying last November.

Several of my other friends, all around 30, are on online matrimonial sites. All of them: A) claim to be coerced in to registering themselves by friends or family. (“It keeps mum and dad off my back,” one said. Another’s friend made his account, and even shortlisted a few interesting prospects.) And B), will only grudgingly admit it. Because, for a generation that scoffs at the idea of arranged marriage as seeing each other over chai and samosas with hovering parents, the very idea of meeting someone on a matrimonial site is problematic, as an idea.

Increasingly, though, I realise that, to a certain section of urban India, the function and utility of these sites is changing. It seems that being on an online matrimonial site only indicates that one is on the lookout for a serious relationship, and most of my friends who’ve met people through them have dated for a while before settling down—or not. And by filtering matches according to the parameters people are looking for—age, religion, etc—there’s a system-generated adherence to social mores. For some, these ‘self arranged’ matches have the best of both worlds—unlike in real life, where love can happen inter-caste/creed/religion (heaven forbid!), the people one meets here check the right boxes straight off. And then one gets to date a person with similar serious intentions, but not necessarily ready to go straight from keyboard down the isle. “From the start, you know the meeting is not about friendship, which changes the equation of the interaction from the beginning,” says 31-year-old Sangeetha, who married someone she met online.

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In other countries, this function would be served by online dating sites. There are a whole host—from those for those looking for casual flings, threesomes and swingers even, to those for those with serious intentions. But simply calling them ‘dating’ websites would make them too Western in the Indian scheme of things; the idea that marriage is the ultimate agenda makes them easier to for families to palate.

What Does this Environment Mean for Women?

On one level, online dating can be empowering for women. Aside from the photograph, a great deal of the initial communication is online, allowing the development of a personality-based connection beyond pressures on appearances. “Meeting online allows two disparate people, who would never exchange numbers at a party, to explore a deeper connect,” says a Jordyn Steig, who met his wife Pamela through Facebook. 

Does being allowed to ‘self arrange’ empower women, giving them some degree of freedom to choose their own partners from within a family-approved shortlist? Not really. For the most part, women aren’t allowed to negotiate this world unchaperoned either. Fathers and mothers remain the gatekeepers, dis/approving potential partners. And, unfortunately, the gender inequality of conventional dating rules still applies. “You can’t ask for guys’ numbers; it’s considered too forward,” says a 30-year-old architect. “You can’t be too comfortable or proactive. Guys will be more forthcoming, and the onus remains on them to make the first moves.” The men will—and can—write to a whole host of women, hoping that someone will write back.

Interesting, for an environment that, you would think, demands high levels of trust, Indian matrimonial sites are chock-full of players, and, worst still, scam artists. Players troll matrimonial sites, looking for the gullible and the desperate, with a purely sexual agenda. A Mumbai-based friend has encountered several of those. One wonders at the desperation of the Indian male—in the early days of Couch Surfing, I’ve heard stories of how potbellied sickos would appear for meetings, waiting for the foreign women to get drunk and loose. Are there not enough places for people with sex on their minds to connect with others similarly inclined? My personal experience on this front is a little dated, but I'm sure the internet continues to offer many such avenues.

On serious dating websites abroad, one tends to encounter more scam artists than players. My mother, a young widow, who I bullied onto these sites in India and Australia (where she lives), encountered a fresh-faced 50-year-old in another Australian city, almost too good to be true. In English that raised several red flags, he told her he was soon leaving for Central Africa for a mining contract. He’d be too busy to call her before he left; would she be okay if they spoke once he reached, of all places, Nigeria (another red flag)! I was certain he had never been in Australia—and sure enough, one phone call and my mother knew too. “He’s black, Tara*,” she said, not being racist but simply stating that he wasn’t what he seemed. Mum stopped responding to his plaintive emails, so the expected ‘I’m in trouble, I need you to wire me some money urgently’ email never came. The site soon sent her an alert about this profile. (Incidentally, my friend never managed to get the administrators of an Indian site to take her complaint about a fellow user—with a misrepresentative profile and sex on his mind—taken seriously, and he continues to hold an active profile.)

‘Matrimonial’ sites allow urban Indians to bridge traditional and modern worlds, one click at a time, but continue to bear the unfortunate baggage of gender inequality. With time, perhaps, our culture will evolve beyond needing the subterfuge of dating under the guise of seeking an arranged match; and our players will find enough willing and sexually liberated playmates in appropriate places, without needing to feign serious intent.


An edited version of this column appeared in Governance Now in April 2013.

The Battle for My Surname by Tara Kaushal

April 2013: Why is retaining my surname after marriage such a constant fight?

I am fiercely protective of my name, and would not change it for the world. (Thanks to a bullying ex-husband, I’ve been there, done that, got the passport, thank you very much.) Nothing but ‘Tara* Kaushal’ feels like my name, not then, and even not now, in a very happy second marriage. Besides, I have a strong feminist agenda, and a whole score of reasons why I believe it was a mistake of youth to hyphenate the first time around and why I won’t do it again.

Anyway, the issue here is not why I want to retain my surname after marriage, but the fact that I do. And in the little time that I’ve been married, I have realised just how ingrained the patriarchal assumption of an automatic name-change is in our society and government systems.

My passport was a whole different level of complicated. Well after my divorce and even a few months in to my second marriage, for want of a permanent address, my passport stayed unupdated and said I was still married to my first husband, hyphenated surname et al. Now, in Maharashtra, marrying a Sahil Mane automatically makes me a Mrs Tara* Sahil Mane, adding the insult of his first name as my middle name to the injury of his surname automatically replacing mine. So, when it came time to update my passport, I visited the passport office to figure out how I could bypass this. The blank stares that greeted my preposterous request led me in to the arms of an agent.

Much research later, he said I would need an affidavit that went something like this: ‘I, Tara* <insert hyphenated surname>, upon divorce and remarriage, would not like to change my name to Tara* Sahil Mane but would like to revert to my maiden name.’ I bullied and blustered my way through the first few stages of the passport interviews, flashing my affidavit at confused officials. The last lady asked for a copy of the ad I should have placed in a national newspaper declaring my changed name, but accepted my protests that I was just choosing to retain the name on my birth certificate, why would I need an ad? It must have been a confusing, unusual case, because my passport came four months later.

Armed with this passport, getting my lost pan card reissued was simpler. A friendly, gentle Mr Deshpande with a foot in the retirement door asked if I was one of those ‘crusader types’. Though I don’t know the language, he even showed me a Marathi newspaper with an article about some feminist campaign, and insisted I take a photocopy to keep up with the actions of my comrades in arms.

The effort towards a married-with-my-original name passport has made life infinitely easier. Now, every time I have to insist on the use of my name, I simply have to whip out my passport. I even carry a copy around in my wallet (sarcasm intended). What’s scary is how often I’ve had to use this tactic. Adding my name on to Sahil’s membership at a local gymkhana is a fight I'm still fighting. Apparently, its systems are not built to accept different surnames for married couples with the same membership number. “Aapko feminism karna hai toh dono naam kyon nahi rakh lete? It will be easier,” advised this helpful clerk when I baulked at the looming battle with bureaucracy.

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Then, there are the social reactions that I and other women who have different surnames from their husbands encounter. When booking tickets on a sleeper bus to Goa, I told the agent I’d like the seats together as I would be travelling with my husband. He filled in my name, then assumed my husband’s name was Kaushal. When I said it wasn’t, his snigger said it all. (And when he realised that we don’t share a surname and he is younger, that’s it, his image of me as a lying woman of questionable character was complete.) I also deal with sniggering clerks when we try to check in to smaller hotels. The social censure doesn’t faze me; Sahil and I lived together for years before we married, and one develops a bit of a thick skin. Fortunately, he laughs off the mail addressed to ‘Mr & Mrs Kaushal’ that occasionally lands up in our letterbox, as he does friends’ teasingly calling him ‘Mr Kaushal’ when I’m hogging the limelight. These may not be easy things for a less secure man to accept.

The sign of a mature democracy is the way it treats its women. Are we cattle, to be possessed and passed on from one male to another, ensconced in a patriarchal cultural and governance system; or are we treated as individuals entitled to make our own choices? That the default is patriarchal is bad enough, it is infinitely worse that one has to struggle against so much to make customised choices against the norm. I always choose to wear the name I grew up with… Except when dealing with traffic cops, where I allow myself the small luxury of donning Sahil’s Maharashtrian surname. The battle wages.


An edited version of this column appeared in Governance Now in April 2013.