My son is acutely aware that his female friends aren’t allowed to take Ubers and Metros at night like he is. Delhi Crime clinically examines the Nirbhaya case; it’s worth a discussion that those men weren’t born monsters but locked into a particular track by their own tragic circumstances.
Recently, my son, 21, bought me an intimidatingly thick diary called Mom, I Want to Hear Your Story. You like writing, he asserted firmly when I protested, flipping through this guided journal that gently prods through my personal history and memories. Questions include details of my first date and my biggest fears during childhood. The journal’s author, Jeffrey Mason, has left ample space to answer the difficult query: Based upon all you have learned and experienced, what advice would you give me?
It’s been a rewarding if somewhat discomfiting experience to look back at successes and failures, and articulate them honestly. Each of us has a unique life journey to share. For mothers, there’s never been a more urgent time to have long conversations on what it means to be men and women in India, today. Triggering is an overused, new age term but it’s apt in the context of the desperate brutality perpetrated on a young Kolkata medic. The truth is that deep within, many men have been raised to loathe women. And the ones who don’t hate them enough to kill think it’s their birthright to harass them.
Right after the horrific Kolkata rape created a furore, with agitating doctors bringing hospitals to a standstill, came the news that 17 cases of sexual harassment have been registered against established stars and producers of Malayalam cinema. The AMMA (Association of Malayalam Movie Artists) has disintegrated because many of the bigwigs are among the accused. Depressing revelations by make-up artists and female directors are emerging daily that point to a culture where sexual favours were part and parcel of the profession. Making sense of this indifference to female agony requires accepting that how we are raising boys needs to change. Too often, Indian parenting follows outdated gender distinctions, setting the youth up for a range of disastrous scenarios that don’t serve either sex.
Placing the male child at the centre of the universe guarantees that his future holds a series of disappointments because the minute he exits the parental home he’ll make the humbling discovery that he’s not special at all. Perhaps less so now, but traditionally men have carried the burden of being breadwinners. We talk witheringly of male privilege but rarely consider how exhausting it must be to be boxed in the role of the strong man, who’s not permitted to show emotion. Nowadays, girls in school and in the workforce routinely outshine men who don’t have the required bandwidth to process this shift. It’s up to moms to systematically break down tough-guy machismo and raise a boy with compassion. It requires constant reassurance that you’re not less of a man because of a failed entrance exam or your ability to earn.
In one episode of Delhi Crime, there is an interview with one of Nirbhaya’s rapists. Indifferent after being confronted by the gruesome details of that night, his chilling response was that girls are equally responsible for rape. At the time, his enraging remarks drove bloodthirsty Indians mad; if there was ever a reason to participate in a lynch mob, this was it. We have seen the same public wrath on display in the “No justice no duty” placards upheld by doctors protesting in Kolkata. They were men and women united by a cause and for the time being, gender ceased to matter. Sometimes, it takes heartbreaking injustice to find common ground. Women shouldn’t have to feel so grateful when men take up for them but they do — the unforgettable image of wrestler Bajrang Punia sitting with Sakshi Malik and Vinesh Phogat at Jantar Mantar protesting against the WFI chief made one want to weep. As parents, we get so caught up with the routine of academics and extracurricular activities, we tend to neglect talking about current affairs that impact the way we live.
Our family stories reflect our values. The tale of the great-grandmother who was married off at 13 — pondering the hardships she overcame forces the acknowledgment that in India, it has always been easier to be born male. My son is acutely aware that his female friends aren’t allowed to take Ubers and Metros at night like he is. Delhi Crime clinically examines the Nirbhaya case; it’s worth a discussion that those men weren’t born monsters but locked into a particular track by their own tragic circumstances. The big questions are, can we escape our conditioning? What should we do differently so crimes against women stop? Constant engagement with our sons will expand the idea of what manliness can be.
The writer is director, Hutkay Films
(How to Raise a Boy is a fortnightly column)
