December 15, 2013

THE GIRL ACTIVIST THAT WANTS TO TRANSFORM NEPALI SOCIETY HER WAY

"When we talk about women in business it is about more than sewing, knitting and household work," Menuka Gurung, 19

 

After studying business in Thailand, Menuka Gurung wants to return to Nepal
to transform society through social enterprise. Photograph: Ewen Bell
“I was born and raised in Kathmandu. My parents moved to the capital from a village after they got married. Although they didn't get a chance to study, they made sure that my sister and I got the opportunity.”
“My grandmother wanted a grandson from my father. She was disappointed when I was born because I was the second child and they expected a son. Though my father was her eldest son, she never showed love towards us because she expected a grandson. I felt sad about this. However later I realised that this is not just my story; there are a lot of people who have faced gender inequality.”

The first challenge a girl faces is her own family. Nowadays, more people support girls' education in Nepal. However, there are still a lot of uneducated families who have no idea about education and women's rights.

If we want equality then we need to involve boys as well as girls in advocacy. The boys should know how girls feel when they are teased, or when the boys are allowed to go out but girls have to stay at home after 7pm.

Biggest challenge: Balancing my studies with extra-curricular activities is one of my biggest challenges. My parents were happy to see how concerned I was about women's rights and my activities in community, but they always had a fear that it might affect my studies.

Proudest moment: Organising a flashmob with Hollaback, which campaigns to end street harassment, was one of my proudest moments. More than anything, for me being a part of Women Lead, the first and only leadership organisation for young women in Nepal, makes me proud. As a trainee and as an intern, I was able to interact with people from different backgrounds and spread the word about women's empowerment and at the same time learn from their experiences.

Currently, I am an undergraduate in Webster university in Thailand, majoring in management and international business. I want to pursue a career in social entrepreneurship. My dream is to transform Nepalese society through responsible solution-oriented business.
When we talk about women in business it is about more than sewing, knitting and household work. Some people in Nepal feel that women can't go beyond that. I want to change their misconception about women in business and as a whole.
LOVE AND GENDER, ACCORDING TO THE HINDU EPICS
[There is much that is questionable here. There’s the baffling Supreme Court claim that only a “minuscule fraction” of India is gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender, and of that fraction, only 200 have ever been prosecuted under Section 377. Therefore, Section 377 cannot be called unconstitutional. (Yes, brows shall furrow: Is the Constitution decided by numbers?).]
Now that the Supreme Court has restored the 19th-century ban on homosexuality, when all the arguments are done, when we Indians have heard everything about freedom over our bodies and homosexuality being a Western import and the right to privacy and more, maybe it’s time to remember our traditions. Perhaps there are lessons there about homosexuality too.
Back in July 2009, the Delhi High Court declared that Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, which made illegal homosexuality as well as some kinds of consensual heterosexual sex, was unconstitutional. The language the court used then is remarkable, even in its formal legal decorum, for its humanity. These famous lines moved me then and move me still:
“If there is one constitutional tenet that can be said to be the underlying theme of the Indian Constitution, it is that of ‘inclusiveness.’ This court believes that Indian Constitution reflects this value, deeply ingrained in Indian society, nurtured over several generations. The inclusiveness that Indian society traditionally displayed, literally in every aspect of life, is manifest in recognizing a role in society for everyone. Those perceived by the majority as ‘deviants’ or ‘different’ are not on that score excluded or ostracized.”

Understandably, that was a euphoric moment for plenty of Indians – plenty of ordinary men and women who had, until that moment, been living lives crammed with daily crimes.
In contrast, Dec. 11, 2013, has been called a day of mourning by many in India. In overturning the 2009 ruling, the Supreme Court declared that Section 377 “does not suffer from the vice of unconstitutionality and the declaration made by the Division Bench of the High Court is legally unsustainable.”
Because of these words, plenty of Indian men and women have returned to living lives crammed with daily crimes.
There is much that is questionable here. There’s the baffling Supreme Court claim that only a “minuscule fraction” of India is gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender, and of that fraction, only 200 have ever been prosecuted under Section 377. Therefore, Section 377 cannot be called unconstitutional. (Yes, brows shall furrow: Is the Constitution decided by numbers?).
There’s the attempt to divide people into “different classes” based on the kind of intercourse they indulge in – the “ordinary course” kind or the “against the order of nature” kind. (Brows shall furrow some more: one more reason to draw lines.)
There’s also the court’s “grave doubts about the expediency of transplanting Western experience in this country.” On this point, it’s worth reminding the Supreme Court of our very own Indian experience, homegrown stuff never transplanted.
For example, there’s one of our most famous pilgrimage sites, the temple to Ayyappan in Sabarimala, Kerala. Some 30 million men travel there for an annual festival, their austere black and blue clothing familiar to everyone in south India.
Ayyappan was the son born of a legendary union between the gods Shiva and Vishnu. Vishnu was in the form of a woman, Mohini, his only female avatar. Even so, the essential maleness of the gods is manifest in even Ayyappan’s other name: Hari Hara Putra, or the son of the male couple Hari (a name for Vishnu) and Hara (a name for Shiva).
The gender ambiguity is itself an ancient tradition that says things about how casually we once viewed these themes. In a Tamil Nadu temple, for example, it is Shiva who is worshipped as a woman: a mother who comes to help a daughter in need. In this form, he is called Tayumanavar (“He who became a mother too”).
And there’s the remarkable story of same-sex love in the god Ram’s ancestry. We owe one version of the Ramayana, the story of Ram, to a 15th-century Bengali poet, Krittibas Ojha. His Krittivasi Ramayana is easily the most popular rendering of the story among Bengalis.
In her book “Love’s Rite: Same-Sex Marriage in India and the West,” Ruth Vanita explains what this version tells us about one of Ram’s ancestors, the King Dilipa (after whom, for what it’s worth, I am named).
Dilipa had two wives. Unfortunately, he could not bear children. When he died, he left his queens devastated and his kingdom heirless. In their grief, the queens turned to each other in love. Their lovemaking had the gods’ blessings; Shiva assured them that they would produce a “lovely child.”
The Krittivasi description of what happened next is moving and tender:
Bhage bhage sambhog je tathe upagata
Brahmadev thuilen nam bhagiratha.
“Born of the mutual enjoyment between two vulvas, the god Brahma named him Bhagiratha.”
In other words, the very name of Ram’s ancestor, Bhagiratha, is a reminder of, and a tribute to, the love – the “mutual enjoyment” – his parents, the two queens, shared.
Ms. Vanita underlines the Bhagiratha story with an intriguing analogy: “Like Leonardo da Vinci imagining the airplane long before it could be constructed, the Bhagiratha narratives imagine women producing a child together.”
Airplanes, of course, are now just part of the scenery. Not even my cats pay attention when one roars overhead. Ms. Vanita suggests that in much the same way, there will come a time when we Indians pay no attention to women in love. To men in love. To children born of such love, even. All of it will be just part of the scenery too, like it once was in India.
Dilip D’Souza is a writer based in Mumbai. He has written four books, most recently “The Curious Case of Binayak Sen.” Find him on Twitter at @DeathEndsFun.