Campaign against Rape

There was this period when I was involved in the womens movement and Forum against oppression of women when I wrote a lot about womens issues...gender issues. Had a column in Blitz I think called SHE 

It started with Rape, and the MAthura case, where the SUpreme Court overturned the conviction of 2 police men who were accused by Mathura of rape. This judgement more or less said that women cannot be raped. It was at a party in Bandra where there were the journalists, the lefties, the chatteratis and somehow the article came up .... instant discussion.... women decided that we must do something...and thus was born the Forum against Oppression of women...where we decided that we would challenge the Supreme COurt decision on the streets.... which led to a campaign to change the outmoded law against rape....

                                               SHE                                      

                           RAPE BILL GAGS PRESS

The proposed amendments to the rape law are going to be introduced in Parliament this November .What does this bill say? Is it beneficial to women?

To recall the past, rape was an unspoken word till March 8^th--- the international Women’s day, when thousands of women came out on the streets demanding justice for Mathura, the 15 year old agricultural worker who had been raped by two policemen.

By April 1980, the law commission had produced a voluminous report making recommendations for the changes of the law. It incorporated many of the demands that many of the women’s organization were making; and by August 1980, a bill was prepared for submission to the next session of the parliament.

Why this quick action? One gets a clue reading the first page;

 “Whosoever prints or publishes the name or any matter which may make known the identity of any person against whom an offence …….  Is alleged or found to have been committed shall be punished with imprisonment for a term which shall not be less than one month but which may extend to two years and shall also be liable to fine.”

A lawyer from the Nari Attyachar Virodhi Manch (Forum against Rape) maintains “this literally amounts to press censorship. Surprisingly enough, no news paper has realized this fact or campaigned against it.

If a paper reports a woman in such an industrial estate was raped this could suffice to identify the woman. There has been an increased reportage on rape, especially those committed by police in the last few months. This amendment will stop this kind of reporting.

                                                                            ***

It will always gag women’s groups from printing leaflets and trying to mobilize people about a rape case to ensure that proper sets are taken to punish the guilty.  Even a leaflet which describes the incident could be taken to mean an identification of the woman.

“Though it is true that women groups have been agitating against the way women who have been raped are treated by the media, we feel that such an amendment   women against atrocities on women.  We are totally opposed to this amendment”.

This is a major addition in the Bill, something which was not even suggested in the Law Commission recommendations.  On the other hand, some of the most important parts 0f the recommendations have been totally ignored.  

The major recommendations made by the Law Commission provided for the prevention of rape of women by policemen.  Thus the Commission had recommended that a woman should have the right to be accompanied by a relative to the police station.  She could not be interrogated anywhere except her own house.  She could not be arrested between sunset and sunrise.  She could not be detained except in a place of custody meant exclusively for the detention for women.  Women could also have representatives of women’s organizations with them at the time of police interrogations.

Surprisingly, all these recommendations which would have helped in the prevention of rape by the police have been dropped by the Bill. WHY? The Bill gives no explanation.  We can only conclude that the government is not really interested in preventing rape by police. It is more interested in ensuring that these rapes are not reported so that the people do not know what is happening.

All the discussion regarding the proposed bill has centered around “burden of proof”--- that is the controversial recommendation which says “In a prosecution for rape or attempt to commit a rape, where sexual intercourse is proved and the question is whether it was without the consent of the woman and the woman with whom rape is alleged to have been committed or attempted, states in her evidence before the court that she did not consent, the court shall presume that she did not consent”.

                                                                            *

Furious letters in the press have protested that this means that every man is in danger, that any woman will shout rape , and it will be up to him to prove that she did not consent .For years now , a woman has to prove that she did not consent , but none thought that unfair.

The bill however says that only when accused is a policeman or a person in power or authority and only when a victim is pregnant or there was gang rape, will the court presume, when a woman says she did not consent. In all other cases the woman will have to prove that she did not consent. Considering that the woman is the victim, it is indeed surprising that it is left to the victim herself to prove her non consent.

The Law Commission had recommended that the past sexual history, apart from that of the accused should be excluded from the evidence. The reason for this is obvious ---the defense always try to maintain that the woman is a “loose” or “immoral” woman and therefore her consent is immaterial. The bill however makes no such stipulation. Lastly, neither the law commission, nor the bill says anything about rehabilitation about the women .Often the women are socially ostracized, and turned out of their homes. Currently there is a little alternative for a raped woman. It is essential that the proposed bill takes this crucial aspect into consideration.

Concerned people and groups all over the country must make their voice heard about the proposed bill, to ensure that it incorporates the law commission recommendations and that the attempt to suppress information about the rape is stopped.

THE LAWYERS COLLECTIVE has published a booklet “RAPE PROPOSED CHANGES IN THE LAW”. This is available for Rs 2.00 from Rm. 818, Stock Exchange Towers, Fountain Bombay, 400023.

                                                                                                                                       

                                                                                                                       OCTOBER 18, 1980

Oh the HImalayas

There was a time that I went every year to the Himalayas..... but wrote about it only once.... now i wish i had follwed Krishnamurthys advice... that write every day... or at least once a week... that a way at least you have some idea about your life.....

Finding these articles and getting them typed out has given me an idea of what I thought at that time about such things... realise most of it was unwritten and am now trying to recreate... those were the days of Front for Rapid Economic Development... with Dunu, Javed and how can I forget the name of the person from Ganhi Foundation with whom we did those projects....

Any, a trip Javed and me did

                                                     TREKKING IS THE HIMALAYAS

                Is that what you call a holiday?’ is the aghast question of most who hear that we walked a hundred miles in the mountains, with food on our backs, freezing with cold, sleeping under the stars.   Moreover, a honeymoon!   Oh my god!   How can you compare a leisurely holiday, all luxuries at your fingertips to waking up early in the morning, cooking, putting your luggage on your back, walking five to ten rarefied mountain air, climbing thousands of feet, feeling tired, ready to fall down, yet keeping your destination?

               It’s the side benefits I guess.   Following a river which changes its character with almost every turn.   Sometimes ripping over little rocks; sometimes dashing into large boulders-rocks that have fallen at some time from the mountains thousands of feet above dashing against the rocks to carve out gigantic forms of modern sculpture.   The character of the river, as it changes …. As meadows turn into walnut forests, and later into tall thick green forests of fir and pine, and higher still, where no life can exist amidst dark black rock.   It’s the small mountain flower that peeks at you, the colourful butterfly, and the shapes of millions of leaves.   It’s the first ray of dawn and the rays of the setting sun that hit the mountains, covered with snow to make them glow, sometimes a blue, sometimes a pink, sometimes almost aflame.   It’s the swim under a freezing waterfall down a lonely valley.  The tiny waterfall which gets blown away when the breeze is swift.   The massage in a tent after a long day’s walk.   Stars as you have never seen them before.

                And the people of the mountains.   The deeper you delve in, the more beautiful they become.   There’s something about mountain people.   They live a hard life, little food for a lot of work put into the soil, cut off from all live for six months of the year …… and yet their openness and curiosity is amazing.   Come to any village at any time, just two of you, a girl and a boy, and anyone and everyone is anxious to take you in.   Food, whatever they are eating, and the local drink the nicer they become.   They’ll take you with them, wild strawberry picking; invite you for evenings of song and dance, tell you about their lives (how one wife is upset because the husband is marrying again.  A woman of the area told me that it was sufficient ground for divorce if the husband did not sleep hugging her close each night.   She’d just pack her bags and leave.  And this would increase her value for her next marriage).

               Walking in the mountains, camping in the mountains, or trekking as it is called in Europe and America, is one of the most enjoyable ways to have a holiday.   With one of the most beautiful areas in the world to trek in-the Himalayas – it is amazing how few are the Indians who do it.   One met more foreigners in the mountains than Indians.

            And the only Indians we met were Bengalis who, strangely enough, have a great love for adventure.   In fact, all the locals thought we were Bengalis as they are the only Indians who trek.

             Around Manali area there are many Buddhist temples, many of which are carvings on rocks.   Each settlement of Buddhists have colourful flags flying in front of each home to guard away evil spirits.   The river through the woods; and over the rocks.

              It seems to me that the only reason that people could have for not going trekking is that they think it’s horribly complicated; or they think it’s expensive.

              About fun.    It’s true that one has to put in a slight input, quite some roughing it out to get the outputs mentioned above.   Walking after all is an expenditure of your own foot or horse power; sleeping on Dunlop pillows; the food one eats is simple.    Carrying your own luggage on backpacks makes it even harder (but nothing that a man or woman in good shape cannot manage).  But all this can be adjusted depending on your temperament and budget.   It is possible to take short hikes and stay at government / tourist guest houses.   Or one can hire coolies to carry the luggage and yourself.

                                                        Organizing Treks

              And it’s not too complicated.  If you are going for your first hike,   I would suggest Manali as a good starting place.  Mainly because the Himachal Government is developing their tourist Bureau where they are placing special emphasis on hiking and trekking.   This means that there are competent people to help and guide you;   This means that there are competent people to help and guide you; to help you choose a hike that suits you best ……from one day to one month; help you with hiring equipment, coolies, ponies, guides, etc. Besides, Manali is a gorgeous place.   Situated in a thickly forested valley, there are several valleys that you can walk into from there.  From Manali-Simla; Manali to Leh and Ladhakh; Manali to Kashmir; to Jammu also.

               Is hiking complicated?   It depends on how you go about doing it.  If you are carrying your own stuff, you need backpacks, sleeping bags and a portable stove.   Packs, sleeping bags, rain proof wear and winter clothing can be hired in all major cities for a small sum (Rs.1 per day) from various mountaineering and hiking organizations that exist.   If you are travelling where there are villages with government huts. No tent is required.  And as you are carrying your luggage yourself, always travel light.  Coolies, who double up as guides, cost from Rs. 10-15 a day.   They carry a phenomenal amount ….. upto 40 kilos if you are not going over 10,000 feet, less weight as you go higher.   Ponies and mules usually don’t come out alone, but in twos or threes.   Costs vary with the length of the journey but average out at Rs. 50 a day.

             And if organizing food, coolies etc.  is also too much there are organizations which organize your whole trip for you.  Cox and Kings as well as the Himachal Government have a range of treks. 

You choose and just go.   All arrangements are made … all you do is walk and enjoy yourself.    Costs vary from Rs. 40 a day for a short hike to Rs. 100 a day if you plan a long one.

             Expense depends again on how you plan to do it.   Government and private buses run the mountain roads …. These are cheap, but the journey is an adventure/   it’s not very comfortable, buses are often two-three hours, sometimes a day late … but the cost is quite reasonable.   A day’s ride in the bus, covering 200 – 300 kms. Of mountain road costs about Rs.35. Cabs also run-on the main mountain routes (e.g.  Chandigarh-manali; or Rishikesh-Badrinath).   It costs Rs.250 per head for the return trip.   Accommodation is relatively cheap.   Forest bungalows, beautiful ones in the forests with fire-places, and usually placed in very beautiful surroundings can be had at Rs. 5 to 10 a day. Sometimes it is necessary to book in advance though we never had any trouble …. We never booked our accommodation and, since hardly anyone –hiked, it was usually available.  

                                                             Mystical Experience

              What else is there to say?   I was asked to write a diary of what happened …. But it’s almost like a private adventure.   Perhaps it’s got to do with the fact that the beauty is so overwhelming that you feel that nothing happens … it is the beauty, the silence, the magnificence of an awesome nature that overtakes you.   You absorb.   You are silent.   Your thinking changes …. It becomes slower, quieter.   There is a constant smile, constant wonder.

            You breathe in fresh air.   You take in beautiful scenery.   There is music in the rivers.   The mountains, rising 22,000 feet high, look down upon you in the dark.   The snow on the peaks can be gaze at for hours.    Couples probably talk about things they’ve never had time for before.

             It sounds awfully mystical, but it’s true.   And besides this feeling, what is there to describe in the small accidents (losing wallets, falling in the rain, punctured tires, and vomiting peasants) that happened. At that time the ‘happenings’ predominate …. Later, what you remember is the beauty, the magnificence, the calmness.

              There’s one snag about a holiday in the Himalayas.   And that is, once you have been there you will never want to go anywhere else again.    Whenever you have two weeks you may begin to think about going to a new place, but inevitably the call of the valleys will win.    With millions of valleys, with each valley different, the mountains are something that literally grows on one.

               If you are willing to take that risk, there is nothing like trekking in the Himalayas.

35 and free

I guess I must have been turning 35 when I wrote this...which makes it 1980 or so..... 35 at that time we saw as quite a turning point.... it was like really becoming a super adult..... has that changed??? AOme comments would be nice...can see page views increasing but no comments....so please do ... pretty please.......

                                                 35 AND - FREE

                

               “I cried the night I became thirty years old”, recalls a thirty eight old woman. “It seems as if all the good years of life had gone. ‘Oh to be twenty again,’ I wailed. To be young, to feel fresh, as if the whole world was just waiting for you…”

                “But, believe it or not, I’m really enjoying myself as never before. I feel so confident today about what I want in my job, in my life, in my relationships. The dreams and illusions of my twenty years old phase have been replaced by a reality that is I. I used to live in a fantasized, imaginary world of how fantastic things could be--- well, things never were all that great, so there was always dissatisfaction. Today, I feel that I know my limitations and those of the social situation, so there is less dissatisfaction.

                 Youth is something that is totally glamorized by today’s society. Women, especially, look anxiously at the mirror to watch for signs of approaching age. Every wrinkle will be noticed and every cream in the market will be tested to see if the look of youth can be retained, every hair examined for the single white one to be pulled out (and, in the later stages, to be dyed).

                Ads tell us how life is exacting when we are young and carefree. Particularly for women, age is something to be fended off. For men, age brings experience, knowledge and power. Age makes a man mature, more desirable. But for women, it is just something different--- women are brought up to feel that their beauty is their most desirable asset. For them, years do not bring experience and knowledge, they only mean ageing.

                “I was brought with the feeling that my beauty and my youth were all that was me,” recalls a 35 year old teacher at a college, “but for me turning 35 was a liberating experience. I began to free myself from all that I was brought up to believe. I began to feel as if I was a person in my own right, not just an ornament that ‘looked nice’. I feel society makes us women feel as if the way we look is the most important thing. So we feel that other aspects, like thirst for knowledge, are less important. We all fall prey to this thinking and so moan when we no longer look nice.”

                “I feel liberated because suddenly I realized that it was all untrue--- I didn’t have to look nice to be somebody, and that changed the whole way I looked at myself.”

                Turning 35 seems to be the end of one stage of living, and acceptance of certain facts that one will not try to change anymore.

               “For 15 years, ever since I was 20, my people were after me to get married,” recalls a woman lawyer. “They just could not accept the fact I wanted to remain single. I have seen too many unhappy marriages in which the women could not develop, to let the same happen to me. Now, finally, people have stopped asking me to just see this boy, and no one makes statements like ‘you are quite good looking, why you don’t get married?’”

                  “I feel a change in my relationships with other men and women also.   Earlier, married women were afraid of me.   They felt that I was trying to get their husbands away.   Men also used to be scared:   ‘is she trying to get me involved?’ they wondered.   Now, these fears do not occur.   They have accepted that I want to be unmarried, that I am not trying to get a man.   Thus they are more relaxed with me and we can really be friends.”

                   At work also, life seems to change.   “It has taken me a long time to learn my own limitations and to understand what I can do and what I can’t.   I feel that, earlier, I used my so-called ‘womanly charms’ to get things done.  I was insecure about my own abilities.   “Now I no longer have to do such things.   I feel I know what I have to do and I know how to do it.   I feel much more secure about my position and myself.   My work life has become much more satisfying to me.”

                   A married woman says,  “I see the years 20-30 as the most difficult period in my life.   I had just got married to the boy I loved.   After two years, we started having children-in five years, three children.   We had such a difficult period in our relationship at that time.  It was as if we had no time for each other, he didn’t like coming home after work to crying children;  I was just dying for some companionship and fun.

                 “Now the most difficult years are over, the children are going to school.   At 35, I am going back to studies.  My husband and I are communicating and sharing the way we once used to.   For a married woman, being over 35 is much more fun.”

                 Another woman maintained.   “I nearly went through a nervous breakdown when I turned 35-the children do longer needed me and I felt so worthless.   I felt I had given up my life for them, and now what?   I became really depressed and couldn’t talk to anyone about it.   Oh yes, we all used to joke with our friends that we were getting old-but I used to go home and feel so depressed.   I couldn’t do anything.   I finally went to a psychotherapist who helped me to put the pieces of my life together and made me see that there was more to life than children.   I feel that the way we are brought up, without interests of our own, creates a crisis when women become older.  If, from the start, I had seen that I was an individual, I don’t think I would have gone through such a difficult time.”

                  Thirty five-a time of crisis and change in a woman’s life – crisis often because social conditioning has made us feel that our beauty is gone.   Crisis role is only that of the mother, and when that role is over, we feel empty.

                But of change also.  Because.  At 35 comes the realization that as women we are capable of much more, and this can give us confidence in ourselves and strength in our own abilities.  It can become a period in which we are no longer being persuaded and pressurised by society to fulfill the roles that society expects of women, but can try and live out our own ideas about what we want to become and be.  A late start, no doubt, but the chance, at least, if we take it, of making a start.

                 Thirty five no longer has to be seen with fear, the fear of ageing, of being worthless.

                 “Don’t forget to mention.” A woman adds, “That for the first time, I felt sexually secure.  I had a sterilization and there was no, longer the fear of pregnancy.”

                 Thirty five-I am looking forward to that milestone.   Here I come ….

  

                

cabaret girls

There were cabaret shows and girls dancing in clubs all over Mumbai at that time.... a freind of a freind of a freind had a night club and I went several nights to the club, had some of the girls come out to lunch, and learnt about their lives.............. always liked meeting people who were living lives differently, it brought new possibilities, new perspectives, new directions..........

                The life and times of the cabaret artiste

The lights dim, the strobe starts swirling so that bands of light s hit you every so often; there is a roll of drums, and a soft sexy voice that tells you that the floor show is on.

The Oriental dance--- she enters in a jet black flowing gown, long hair loose over her bare shoulders, necklaces jangling around her bare neck. She sways to ‘Tequila’ and after a couple of minutes walks to a table, shakes hands with each of the customers, giving each a smile and a hello. The first round is over.

The music gets louder, the drums faster and she returns to the stage and begins frantically moving to the music. Then the gown comes off, to reveal a much sequined bikini--- the drums beat faster and she starts her pelvic movements, thrusting her hips first in this direction and then in the other; then she’s down on the floor on her back, then on her stomach then on her side, the sequins come off revealing an even more brief bikini, more thrusting in various directions, then she’s up wrapping herself, blowing kisses to everyone and then she’s off.

At Meghraj in Bombay, tables are spread around at which about 25 mainly middle aged men drink, smoke and stare at the dancers. It’s relaxed here, there’s lots of space, and it’s possible to combine eating, drinking and watching the floor shows. The drums roll again, and its Jeanie with the fire dance.

She enters in a bikini, always sequined so that it shines and the tassel toss and turn in every direction. In her hands is a plate with five candles. She dances, twirling the plate around her body under the arms, under her legs.  .  .  She just missed her skin there.  .  .  till the climax, when with what seems to be a look of pain, she dramatically tosses her head back, pushes her body forward, and tilts the plate, so you can see the melted wax pour down her bare body that glistens with perspiration.

She moves around, meets everyone, a smile here, a smoke there, a hello. Than back on stage. Sticks have been brought out with cotton dipped in patrol wrapped around the ends. She burns them, huge flames shoot out. She takes the flaming sticks and guides them over her legs, over her body, ever so gracefully but you can see the flames touching her body everywhere. She sits down, puts it on her tongue; for an instant her tongue is on fire; she bends again and both sticks come to her mouth and she puts off the flames in her mouth.     

It really happens that way. I saw it. And she hasn’t put anything on her body.

The next act is ‘Temptation’, a duet. It consists of two people feeling each other’s bodies so gently, so sinuously, you could feel the movements on yourself. And then began the various poses of love making--- at least 15 of them she twisted and turned all over, so did he. On the floor, lying down, standing upside down, --- if you’ve seen love making manuals or the Kamasutra you’ve seen this.

Yet its different seeing it on stage, where two people are actually acting out the poses. It’s a show, a kind of play ---acting, and there’s no actual sexual intercourse, but the simulated motions are all there.

Floor shows differ in each place --- each place each month has a new show, new faces, and new dances. Everything depends on the skill of the dancers, and the variety offered. There are various types of dances --- the snake dance where the dancers dances with an 18 foot python; the bottle dance the candle dance, the Egyptian dance, the Hawaiian, the lesbian show. But most often it is the blues, or pain disco.  

The girls--- Jarina, Reshma, Lola, Tanuja, Laila, Nitu, Jeanie, Priya --- behind the costumes, behind the makeup, behind the perpetual smiles, what are they like?  They come from all over--- small towns, big cities, --- from all types of backgrounds some are educated, BA’s MA’s --- others just after 6 years of schooling. They are Anglo Indians, Hindus, Christians, and Muslims. Many are devoutly religious.

She stands there, on the terrace, silhouetted against the dark night, a glistening, sweating, gorgeous body, clad in a sequin bikini, face white with lots of make up to show up in the night club light, eyes black with mascara and glistening with eye shadow, drinking down in one long gulp of ice cold beer. She bends over, so that her partner can scrape off the wax still on her body from the fire dance. “Why do you burn your beautiful body?” I ask. She gives a husky laugh, takes a smoke, a swallow of beer.

“Hi darling,” she says “have a beer.” It’s always darling, honey, love, all the time. “Tell me why do you all look down on us cabaret girls? See these men? They’ve worked all day at the office, maybe they’ve had a fight, they are tense, and they just want to relax, forget about it all. We are just trying to make you all happy--- so why do you look down on us.

“Love making, sex is an art, honey. Sure most of our dances have to do with sex, various ways of making of making love. Making love is an art. Women can learn something from us; love, like how to make their men happy. I tell you most of the marriages go to the dogs because of sex”.

One of the girls has been widowed since she was 22. She trained as a nurse, and worked as one for several years. She has two children in boarding school. She works nine months in the year. For the three months when the kids come home she is with them all the time.

Another girl is the eldest in the family of seven children. Her father is too sick to work, “Sure they I dance. My boyfriend drops me here and picks me up each day. My earnings keep the family fed and children going to school”. Another whose husband is a doctor left her for someone else. She has a child in boarding school. She started dancing to support her child and herself. I like dancing it’s a job like any other. Dancing is my job”.                                       

Over and over again they tell me. “We are artists. We are workers. If a film star does a cabaret on film’ she’s a star’ she’s somebody. If we do it on stage, people say we are cheap. The hypocrites.”

                                          WE DON’T LIKE TO SWOW OFF ………

“The reputation of cabaret dancers has gone down because of the demand for strips now. Many girls who are cabaret artists, don’t know the skill of dancing, all they do is dance disco and strip. So the dance form suffers,” says another girl indignantly.

A trained artiste may have learnt from another artiste for a year, and can do a variety of dances.  She changes her style.  But an untrained one cannot,.  “What do I feel like when I dance?” said one of the girls.  “I just forget all my own problems, I think about dancing, and being happy.

All of us have a drink before we dance. It gives us the courage to go on stage, to dance with so little on.  We don’t really like to show off our bodies, but it’s our job.”

“Actually I want to dance for films.  I have done some, and some stage shows.  But that’s not regular.  So I dance cabaret in between.” 

Life is tough for cabaret artistes.  They get a job usually for a month, since a place needs new faces, new shows to attract the audience.  So each month she has to look for another place to dance.  “It’s dance, dance, every night.  No holidays.  We dance even when we have our periods.  No dance, no money for that day.  It’s routine and dull to have to dance, the same dance every night.  Our life isn’t easy.”

Many of the girls have to go other cities or towns to get work each month – Delhi, Bangalore and small towns.  Cabaret has started everywhere.  Each month before their current contract runs out, they write to the floor-show place; the word the word gets around, each girls tells the other one, here is where I worked last, this is what it was like; she then sends, her bio-data and photographs.  Many have agents, always male, who find them work for a cut, which is usually up to Rs. 200-300 a booking.  Same say agents buy girls and own them and then force them to dance.

“It’s lonely travelling like this.  You think we have a glamorous life but I tell you I’m bored.  I’ve been here for 15 days.  I haven’t been out of the hotel room, except onto the dance floor.  Where could I go?  I don’t know a soul here.  I don’t go out with customers and who feels like going out alone?

“Many people think we cabaret girls are loose, cheap, that we are prostituting ourselves.  That’s not true – for us it is an art, a job.  Maybe some girls do go around with customers – that’s up to individual women.  Every night a guy asks me, meet me outside – I tell him wrong number.”

The pay at first sounds good.  New artistes get from Rs. 1,200 a month with dinner and sometimes transport.  The senior artistes get from between Rs. 1,800 and Rs. 2,500.  If they are from out of town board and lodging are thrown in.  But it’s really not so much.  Make-up can cost about Rs. 200 each month and if the hotel doesn’t provide drinks, the girls buy their own.  Costumes cost a lot, for some dances up to Rs. 1,000.  And there’s the constant tension of looking for another job each month.  There is no sick leave, no leave at all in fact, and no security whatsoever.

Places and owners also differ.  Sometime the charge covers only the floor show; others include drinking, eating, entertainment.  Some treat the women with a lot of respect, others treat them with scorn.  I have heard allegations that in one place the owner himself pimps for the girls who are willing.

A fat middle-aged man, an executive in a large company says, “Oh yes, I come at least twice a month.  “Why do I come? Because I don’t get it at home.” And he giggles. In the chic upper class crowd, it is fashionable not to like cabaret – it is regarded as cheap.  “No class,” one person said, “nothing at first shook their heads and said, “Cabarets? No I haven’t seen them.”  But slowly as they drank more they both admitted, “Yes I’ve been to three of them,” and added sheepishly. “Yes I did get excited.”

But why do men like to see cabarets?  So far the best answer I have got was, “See, there are these five or six lovely women, they are dancing, and they are very erotic.  All through the show, 98 minutes of it, I am excited. And even afterward, I can think of the girls, the movements, the various poses – I can use my imagination.  Where else would that be possible?  Suppose one goes elsewhere, it’s over so soon.  Cabaret leaves me with a memory.”

In another smoky place I went to 35 men were squeezed onto bench - -like seats in an area of 150 square feet.  In front are school-type benches to hold the soft drinks given with the show?  First I am taken to a small cabin hardly 50 square feet in area.  I refuse to sit in it. This is the VIP cabin.  You can see what goes on outside but no one can see who is inside.

Here, the people come only to watch – and the men unashamedly just stare.

The government keeps a strict check on floor shows.  For several years they weren’t allowed.  In 1990 the government drew up the code of conduct.  Each place has to have a license.  In Delhi recently, several places were raided.  “Some women, fully dressed, were taken from the dressing room and kept in jail for three days,” Priy says.  All this is just to bother the girls, and the owners, so that they can collect more bribes,” the Delhi court dismissed the charges.

The policeman in charge of the vigilance department, which is responsible for raids, tells me, “We haven’t raided a cabaret joint in two years.  Last time we did it, the judge insisted that as none of the customers were annoyed, we didn’t have a case.  If the customers are not annoyed, why should we do anything?  No one is forcing them to see the show.

To run floor isn’t easy, with all the rules and regulations there are.  Tickets get taxed 65 per cent entertainment tax, so no wonder the rates are so high – the entry fee is around Rs. 50-60.  The excise and prohibition people have to be kept happy, and the same goes for the sales tax and police people – slip up anywhere and there is potential trouble.  Your license won’t get renewed.

“And it’s we who get the brunt of it.  Where will we work?” groan the artistes.  “A union of some kind is necessary,” insists another.  “Sometimes we aren’t given decent contracts; sometimes the owners don’t pay us in time.”

“People find out you are a dancer, and they don’t want to rent you a flat – it’s so ridiculous.”

“There is no unity amongst us.  Only jealousy and envy – if a woman looks better, or dances well, cabaret girls themselves will start saying nasty things about her.”

Jeanie is bending over.  In her hand is a towel which she uses to wipe herself.  In it is a small black myna bird.  “I saw it on the road whilst coming to work.  First s scooter then a taxi almost ran over it.  So I stopped and picked it up.”  Everyone is excited, petting it.  I take it in my hands, so small, fragile, and soft, it flaps its wings.  I loosen my hand s to give it room, and off it flies, testing its wings.  I wail.  But Jeanie puts her arm around me and gives me a wide smile, “honey it’s a free bird.  I was just looking after it till it was well.  It was born free, it had to be free.  Now let’s celebrate – our bird is well.”

A free bird.  Born free.  To be free.  How many of the thousands in Bombay would have stopped in the hustle-bustle of the city, picked up the bird and brought it to work and cared for it?  A cabaret artiste is a warm person.

.

chor bazaar

Th best part of writing nt hose times was that i was gong to new places and trying to figure out what i felt about it. Writing forces you to say something about something..... i would never have remembered going to any of these places if i had not written about it.... all that remains of what i was thinking or not thinking is the remains of these pages...

and this is the infamours chor bazaar...the theives market.... it was said dont takes your car there, cause you will have to buy back your hub caps.....

                                                            CHOR BAZAAR

           

                 Let your imagination fly.   There’s adventure, romance and excitement at Bombay’s Chor Bazaar.   You get everything you can possibly think of-a little rusted, a little used, a little old.   But it’s all there – you find it after exciting exploring-and it’s cheaper than usual.

                There’s a casualness around that one could never get in crowded bazaars; in big, fancy shops; or on the streets.   Shop-keepers sleep with the most beautiful antiques around them; the continuous hawking   “come to my shop” is absent.   It’s as if everyone knows you are just shopping around, so why bother.

                A sample of things you get here:  antique lamps, crystal perfume bottles,  projectors record players, shows, door knobs, saris, khaki shirts, car parts, transistors, parts for complicated machines, chains, huge pots, trunks, desks, pendants, broken guitars, old typewriters.   You can get anything you want if you look for it.

                People advise,   “Don’t buy anything unless you have someone along who really knows the quality of the stuff you are buying.”   This is specially true of gadgets.   A camera that is being sold for Rs. 20, which you priced at a store for Rs. 75, may not be worth even a rupee.   It may also be a great bargain.   But you’ll need to know the difference.

                People advise,   “Don’t go there by car.   When you come back from your shopping spree your hub caps will be gone.   And you’ll have to buy them back for five rupees from the shop next door.”

                I went walking.   You can start your Mohammed Ali Road (where you get the best kababs at the cheapest prices) or from Crawford Market.   Just ask every fifth shop how to get there.

               There’s something magical about the name.   You as  “Chor Bazaar kaha hai?” and the shopkeeper’s face lights up,  he quickly comes out of his cubby hole, waves his arms around, twists his nose and tells you how to get there.   You are never, never misdirected.

               You amble down three or four lanes to an aviary, leave two lanes behind and the next four gulleys are Chor Bazaar.

              It’s easy to start off methodically.   You start down the first lane with its antiques and furniture, but before you know it you are down side lanes and alleys, finding the adventure you were looking for.

           

          

             Shops have full generations working in them.   The grandfather will be snoozing on the charpai, the son looking after the selling, the father banging out some new pieces that have come in.

            The fun lies in going in and out the gulleys for a whole afternoon.  

            There’s one lane that’s full of car parts and all sorts of tiny mechanical components for big industrial machines.   Engineers who have started their own small factories often shop for their spare parts here.   Students come here to pick up parts to make their own transistor radios.

           If you can’t find what you want one day, you try the next week.   New stock comes in on Fridays.

           People say that about half the stuff is “Chori ka maal”   (stolen things)   Shopkeepers say that they buy from auctions in mass quantities, from old houses that can no longer be maintained.   Things like old clothes and shoes come from the people who go from house to house bartering steel utensils for old clothes.   The clothes are washed and repaired and sold at Chor Bazaar.

           Men’s clothes are a specially good buy.   There are T-shirts, khaki jackets, and strong cotton pants.   They aren’t the height of fashion.   But they are strong, hardy and would look smart if a smart person wore them.

           There are shops coming up now that are modern and slick.   They don’t deal with old, thrown out material but with vinyl covered table tops and middle class furniture.   There are still only a few of them, but they lack the charm of the old shops.

            You can’t come out of the bazaar without buying some little thing.   You also come out with a feeling that you have discovered something or met some interesting people.

             It’s that charm that brings someone like me who hates the thought of shopping, back to Chor Bazaar.