Miscellanea / Kamala Das
The bitterness generated by patriarchal governance turns a woman into a foul-mouthed shrew
Several businessmen from other states have settled down in Cochin
in the recent past, buying up flats or villas that face the waterfront.
Compared to the larger cities of the country Cochin is safe although
not quite safe from atmospheric pollution. No robberies are ever
reported from this commercial city. Of course, a few cat burglars
prowl around in the poorer localities at night picking up a saree
left out to dry or a steel utensil placed too near a window.
The North Indian residents of Cochin have picked up Malayalam.
One of them is my young friend Bubbly who speaks it effortlessly.
Her husband Jaspal is a garment exporter. They live in a two storeyed
bungalow in Kadavanthara, that has a narrow garden and faces a
temple. They have booked an apartment in another suburb farther
away from the centre of the city. This might form part of the
dowry which the young man who would marry their daughter will
get.
Bubbly's family consists of her husband, a son, a daughter
and her mother-in-law. Although affluent by Kerala standards
Bubbly does the cooking all by herself. Her mother-in-law cannot stand
the thought of employing a cook. What other work do
you have, she asks Bubbly whenever the subject turns up.
All of
Bubbly's friends who are Malayalis of the upper middle class employ
cooks and sweepers. Almost everyone of them is lazy and a little
bit slovenly. They spend the morning house lying in the bed and
speaking to the neighbours on cordless phones. The North Indians
take cooking in their stride.
I have heard my husband say that once invited to Shri Saraiyya's
house in Bombay, he was astonished to find the millionaire's wife
serving rice at the table. He was impressed with the humility
of the gesture.
In patriarchal societies the men of the house are served first.
The women eat later. All the tasty tidbits would have been eaten
before the tired women sit down for their repast.
The Nair community has retained its matriarchal attitudes despite
the influence of Mahatma Gandhi, a true representative of a strongly
patriarchal society. In a Nair family no major decision is ever
taken without consulting the matriarch, the eldest lady of the
house. She may be the grandmother or the aunt. Or she may be
the mother of the children. Minor decisions like the selection
of the menu are taken by the men of the family.
The women who
are in total control over the destinies of members of their
family or of their clans are surprisingly feminine and gentle.
The systems of matriarchy did not ever produce a shrew or a virago.
It is the bitterness generated by patriarchal governance that
turns a woman into a foul-mouthed shrew. A respected woman is serene.
Whenever I have visited other countries and have come face to
face with women who regard themselves devalued at the onset of
old age I have spoken of the merits of matriarchy and have held
it up as the solution to their problems. The matriarchs I
know retain their self confidence and age gracefully, becoming
gentler and more compassionate. They grow golden auras around
their heads and begin to glow.
I have seen women of a certain age try facelifts and silicone
implants to look bedworthy and desirable. In my opinion only those
condemned to selling their own flesh to strangers ought to go
in for such preposterous brutal experiments. Others must accept
the slight changes that the years bring with poise and must become
beautiful old women.
Age in my opinion is not a handicap. It is an aura that is radiant.
If matriarchy is adopted all over the world no wars will be fought,
no terrorist will place bombs at public places, and no politician
will be assassinated before the elections.
Women know how to nurture peace. Governance must be wrested from
the hands of men. Men have violent dreams. Women only dream of
laughing children.
Illustration: Dominic Xavier
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