A generation of girls is being prepared to do the household chores, cook food for men, guests and other people, to wash their jutha bartans (utensils). A generation of boys is being prepared to consolidate this so-called culture of sub-ordinating women, to objectify them. And the most important, to “protect women”.
It has been noticed that whenever men invite guests, there’s so much burden on their wife or mother or sister to make the guest happy and serve the best taste of food. Men don’t even clean their stuff. They even don’t take their food themselves. They eat and they leave. Who lifts their jutha bartan? Of course their wife or sister or mother (in the name of “maa ka pyaar”).
And they say this is what our culture is.
Although there are many daily life examples through which a girl is just stereotyped to cook food, wash clothes of men, etc., Neeraj Ghaywan’s short film Juice deals with it very clearly. The very film talks about daily life male superiority.
An incident in the film defines gender socialisation clearly and how this hierarchy is produced subtly. In the film when they have to feed the guest’s male child, the girl’s mother says, “ Thaali lag gayi hai, bhaiya log ko khaana khilaao.” This part of socialisation is important for them to consolidate their patriarchal culture.
Another film which I want to talk about is the directorial debut of Achal Mishra, Gamak Ghar. The film shows three decades of a family subsequently with a beautiful cinematic experience. It shows the segregation of women through a montage (a specific kind of editing in cinema).
The Unconscious Duplicity Of Men
There’s a visual in the film which demands attention. Although the period where this scene happens is 2010, it also depicts the reality of today:
The husband is at dinner and talking with his wife. His wife continuously requests to be allowed to see her mother’s house because she wants to attend a festival. Her husband continuously refuses. His problem is that she is pregnant and if she travels she might have a miscarriage because it has happened in the past.
He deliberately says that she can’t attend that festival during pregnancy.
If you see this from a perspective of family, as a traditional institution, it suits you. The interesting fact here is that now dinner is ending. He leaves his jutha bartan. His wife lifts that bartan and puts it outside the room. And surely she will wash that bartan.
You see the duplicity, right? On one side he gives a lecture on miscarriage and on the other side, he even doesn’t clean his stuff. He doesn’t have a sense that she could have a miscarriage while doing a chore. And ignore the miscarriage; why is she cleaning his shit?
This whole duplicity is normal. It is a daily life thing for them to do, to control.
The Mother-Tongue Affect
When #indigenous languages are mocked, it creates a hierarchy where the language of the majority sustains and rules.
This leads to issues of casteism, racism, inequality and humiliation towards those who do not cater to this elitism and bear the brunt of it. (8/n)
— Youth Ki Awaaz (@YouthKiAwaaz) July 12, 2021
The crucial element in the film is language. The language to which the film is subscribed is mixed with Maithili and Magahi. And the fascination of the film is language. But the language issue I want to talk about is different from this.
In the rural area of Bihar, to look intellectual, people started to forget their language. They just want to forget their language. From the early period when a child is born, their parents just have a desire that their child never speaks their regional language.
Whenever they talk to them, they talk in “Shudh Hindi” (Pure Hindi). Although, their diction and dialect are regional. Anyone from their family talk with that child in Shudh Hindi. At last, they want their child to learn the English language.
The argument they give to clear this whole puzzle of language is that when you speak shudh Hindi, you look sanskaari, intellectual, etc. Just imagine, when you hear a good speaker of Hindi or English, it’s a wonderful feeling, isn’t it?
There’s a new trend in marriages in rural areas that have also been seen a transformation of language. As we know, arranged marriages are prevalent in India; our rural areas, especially mine. The attentive thing is that when a marriage is fixed, the family permit baat-cheet with each other. And when they talk they start to talk in Shudh Hindi.
The intimacy always provokes people to speak their mother tongue. But the intimate relationship in which they are they never speak their mother tongue.
This thing gives me a great amount of doubt. My language is inferior? Is it offensive too? Is it funny? I don’t know; I’m in doubt. But I also have a sense of difficulty when I started to talk to any of my villagers because: what do they expect from me? Should I speak the regional one or Shudh Hindi?
Sometimes I also think this desire to sound intellectual with Shudh Hindi is justified. What I face because of my dialect is related to this. It was my second month of coaching in Delhi. I had to answer some questions. And suddenly I said chho (in the Magahi area of Bihar this is the pronunciation of six in Hindi).
The teacher stopped me and made fun of my dialect. The whole class was laughing. I also started to give them a nervous smile because I had to. That teacher pronounced chhe and said that is how six should be pronounced. In the next week, this happened with other students and the whole thing repeated.
But the issue is if anyone starts to talk in Shudh Hindi their dialect will be regional. What would happen to this dialect? This mother-tongue effect in dialect disturbs them everywhere; even in their area. Some people are also ready to make fun of this Shudh Hindi.