This article in The Guardian and the comments following it make very interesting reading. I don’t think about it much these days but I am so glad that I’ve escaped Indian culture. I think those two young feminists in the article have hit the nail on the head:

“…modern women are divided into “bad” and “good” according to what they wear, whether they go out after dark and whether they drink alcohol. “We are seeing a rise of moral policing, which blames those women who are not seen as being ‘good'”

My parents and indeed the wider community expected me to be a ‘good’ girl, especially before I got married. But I’ve ended up marrying someone who doesn’t care about any of those things. In one respect I am now the complete opposite of ‘good’: I work in my in-laws’ pub! But there isnt any question in my mind about my or my husbands morals. Basically, the rules for being ‘good’ are patriarchal bullshit. Yes, I’m angry about it.

Women being seen as inferior is a part of most cultures that I know of. In Hinduism it’s even mentioned in the scriptures that women are lesser than men. When I realised this in my twenties I found it so condescending that I abandoned Hinduism altogether. I’ve never looked back.

I think the problem of violence towards women in India is due to a lack to respect towards women that is ingrained in the culture in many ways. The dowry tradition, which still goes on to an extent in my own community, devalues women. It is a completely outdated practice anyway as most women in my community pay their own way by working. The frowning upon women who go out and have a drink sends the message that women are second class citizens; they are not allowed the same pleasures as men. And women being seen and treated as objects for sexual gratification translates to women not even being regarded as human.

Unfortunately, I don’t think Indian culture, even in Indian communities in Britain, is going to change any time soon.

Recently I have found that I’ve just not been getting the basics done in a timely fashion. I’m talking about really basic things like cleaning my teeth twice a day. So I decided to print off a list of daily basics each day and cross off each task after it was done. There is room on each sheet for extra tasks too. I’ve used this system for two days now and it works amazingly well!

To do lists on the computer have never seemed to work particularly well for me. Some time ago I read an article on the net which explained why to do lists on paper, and specifically on post-it notes, are better than digital ones. There are plenty of others that concur with the ‘paper beats digital’ argument. I think this one nails the reason why on the head for me: the paper list is physically far away from other distractions such as email and Facebook.

The American meaning of mad. This video made me laugh so much that I cried.

Inspired by the Guardian’s interactive article What Does Being British Mean to You? I pondered my own position.

Both my parents’ families are from the same little cluster of villages in Gujarat, India. My parents were among those who emigrated to England in the sixties and seventies. They met through the Gujarati community in England and married. I was born in England and my upbringing and education here has shaped the person I am today far more than my family’s background, in spite of them holding on very strongly on to their culture. I don’t feel Indian; I feel British. My husband is English, we don’t incorporate any Indian traditions into our lives and we work in his parents’ very traditional pub, that most British of institutions. To me, being British means promoting freedom and tolerance.

I’ve never been a victim of overt racism but I feel there is room for improvement. People need to be educated. For example, a few months ago I was talking to an English woman in her fifties. She used, harmlessly she believed, the word ‘Paki’ as a synonym for ‘Indian’. Leaving out the geographical error entirely, I tried to explain to her that she shouldn’t use the word ‘Paki’ because it was derogatory but she clearly didn’t know what derogatory meant. At that point I cut my losses and gave up.

I don’t care what they say on Woman’s Hour, I’m NOT going to be wearing pastels.

I’ve started my Christmas shopping over the last few days. I won’t go to Merry Hell unless it’s absolutely necessary so I’ve been doing it online. The first delivery was completed today after much hassle. It put me in mind of this (from last year’s Viz annual):

Apparently I gave my passengers a bit of a fright when I parked the car at the Thompson wedding venue because I drove so close to the car next to me. I hold my hands up; I cannot park (and never could even in a much smaller car).

However, the very next day I witnessed a much worse example of bad parking. Our car was parked at a service station on the way home. I stayed in the car while Mark used the facilities. I saw a woman approach the spaces alongside in a Micra and simply drive into the concrete barrier in front. After the impact she gingerly reversed six inches then left the car to go into the service station without even inspecting the front of the car. In spite of my still raging hangover I had a good private laugh to myself in the dark.

But the best (or should I say worst?) bad parking incident was last April when a man came to the pub to repair the quiz machine. I was in the bungalow making myself a sandwich and all of a sudden I heard an almighty crash. Alarmed, I rushed outdoors. The pub car park was completely empty as it was before opening and ok he was in a large van but to this day neither he or we can fathom how he managed to reverse into the fence between the bungalow and the pub car park. And with such force that it was knocked over. These photos (I took as part of a set for the insurance company) still make me giggle:

Fingers crossed that I will learn from what I have witnessed!

Amazing story:

…from karate. Obtained by trying to block one of Dom’s kicks with my gloved hand but instead made contact with my arm. Owweee! But yay, I am getting used to being hit rather than being a little girl about it (as one of my friends might say).

Today I’ve been married for two years. I still feel like the luckiest woman in the world.