RESERVATIONS

I have been writing ever since I remember. But I discovered the reservations in my writings, not until recently. A friend of mine said that when I wrote, I used more of acid and tears than ink. I thought that was one of the most wonderful compliments I could have ever got. However, last week I met a journalist- a man he called himself, who wanted me to project my cynical yet tender renderings, in a more ‘womanlier’ sort of way. Not the mysterious feminine issues or their social concerns, he stressed, but those packages, which were shocking, smutty and scandalous. It would assist, he added if they had a ‘woman empowerment’ hallmark, boldly stamped on it. An example, he suavely quoted, could be related to the judgment of the Supreme Court – about the ‘living together’ of consenting adults.

My alarming concerns for the erosion of certain moral values, which naturally spring from my old fashioned views, were not discussed at all. Neither was my genuine outlook on the romantic elucidations of an emotion, paid any heed to. Nor was my forthright opinion (who knows, I just might have had a similar viewpoint too) even considered worth looking into. I was simply dictated to advocate for the more sensational cause- that which would titillate the readers into believing how completely liberated an Indian woman has truly become.

The encounter with him left me feeling pretty uneasy. His insinuations, that the outpourings of a feminine mind would appear more attractive with a frilling of sensationalism, somehow did not gel with my transparent thinking. Every person writes in what they believe in. I have always supposed that a reader, like any other distinguished guest, can easily be entertained in the drawing room. What goes on in bedrooms is common knowledge and I honestly feel I cannot add any more pleasing or sleazing details to it.

As I have not done my Masters in ethical law either, I also know that there is nothing immoral about unfolding the mysteries of corporeal pleasures- but only if and when a setting demands it. To coat your words in slime, just to stir things up, or to escalate the sales graph of a magazine, is certainly not my cup of tea. Where sentiments and sensitivity is concerned- well, that’s a different matter altogether. In that area it would probably be like quenching an unquenchable thirst from a pitcher that has a bottomless pit.

The main concern for us writers, as human beings and citizens, would be to highlight on basic issues and the hundreds of other social stigmas that our country is infected with. If the topics are emotionally dealt with and the suggestions practical enough, a matter coated with dignity would certainly attract reverential attention and would be thought of as more profound than the one deliberately painted with filth. And it certainly does not matter which brain assembles these facts- a man’s or a woman’s. Just like the absurd connection of a woman’s body being portrayed in all men’s advertisements, it is even more ludicrous to think of writing on issues that you do not believe in, but which would anyway cause a sensation. And even if such matters did draw interest, wouldn’t that be riding piggyback on a woman’s shoulder? Wouldn’t that be monopolizing womanhood again?

When even God cannot decipher the mysterious ways in which a woman’s mind works, what right has an ordinary mortal to try and browbeat into the psyche of one? The unwritten codes and the conducts of the written word are not mere toys to be dealt with. With a pen and a paper (or more recently, a monitor and a keyboard), a writer’s vision (the inconsequential gender factor notwithstanding) is suddenly altered. Everything appears as if a magnifying glass has been suddenly placed on your thoughts. And this is the absolute eyesight that is so graciously lent to the readers, for them to try and crack the codes. A powerfully written word has the muscle to strengthen certain beliefs. And sometimes it can even change a few lives!

I am proud to say that I believe in everything that I write. Even though I may not have experienced them. My only grouse being, that I cannot begin to jot things down unless I feel strongly about it. And usually the features that hit me the hardest, are unfortunately those that have already been targeted at a few dejected souls. The base of all my articles usually spring from the follies and the misfortunes of others. Except for this tiny twinge of guilt that I sometimes feel whenever I sit down to write- of flourishing on someone else’s anguish, or thriving on someone else’s grief, I do not have any other ‘reservations’. Perhaps this is the bitterness that probably alters my ‘ink’ to ‘acid’ and most likely that is the pain, which sometimes changes the ‘acid’ to ‘tears’.

Sometimes you find yourself in a quandary of emotions. And sometimes inside a quandary of emotions, you find yourself!

Nargis Natarajan.