It's just a game.... or is it ???

"What's the score?" inquired an Indian colleague at the office from across the desk.

"Hundred and eighty something for three in thirty overs," I replied, hanging up the telephone that was the source of the information. It was during the last one-day match between India and Pakistan at Delhi in April '05.

Realizing that the Pakistan score was a bit too good, he said," you know what, India must win this match."

"Why?" I asked; a little baffled by the comment.

"Pakistan has already won three," he responded, "now India must square it up with a win so that the extremist Hindus don't get mad and start taking it out on Indian Muslims just because Pakistan won an insignificant cricket match".

"It isn't INSIGNIFICANT, it's an indo-pak match," I thought for a moment. But then, he was right. The significance of the match was nothing compared to even a single human life. Riots had broken out earlier on the outcome of matches and it could happen again.

Pakistan and India might have fought a brace of wars on the battlefield but the scores of battles they fight on cricket pitches every once in a while are thought to be equally important, if not more, by some zealots.

For once, I wanted Pakistan to lose the match but I thank God it didn't happen because even though the Pakistan team obliterated the Indian juggernauts, the fans weren't furious, or at least they didn't vent it out on the Indian Muslims.

Indian team's tour to Pakistan in 2004 was also surrounded by similar speculations. Some critics considered the timing of the series to be the worst possible because the India-Pakistan peace (friendship) process was at a budding stage at that time and they saw the series as a possible threat to the process. But kudos to the Pakistani fans who proved excellent hosts to the Indians and accepted the defeat with honour. 

Even though Pakistan's young burgeoning side was beaten by a much senior and much stronger Indian lineup and the defeat was predictable but most Pakistani cricket fanatics, including myself, were still suspecting Pakistan's loss in the one-day series as a souvenir to the guests from President Pervez Musharraf. And when we heard that the '05 series in India had an even number of matches instead of odd, we were sure that the top officials on both sides of the border had agreed on a drawn series to make sure that the peace process is not hindered by something which, at times, Pakistanis and Indians deem above Kashmir --- cricket.

So much for cricket being just a game.

Introducing... Masculinism

The flip side of Gender Discrimination

It was around 2200 hrs on September 22nd, when I disembarked at the King Fahd International Airport in Saudi Arabia only to realize that the following day was the sole holiday in the kingdom and that majority of the airport staff had decided to make the most of the rare long-weekend and were on leave. There were only three immigration officers to cater to some 500 passengers and the consequence was three awfully long queues. As if this was not enough, one senior official suddenly realized that he had a moral duty to serve the females and the families first. They were asked to the front of the queues and the poor men were left stranded at the back of the queues for a good part of two hours.

It’s not that I was entirely against this official’s decision (at least not until the third flight had landed) but this was in a country which is deemed by most as the most misogynistic place on Earth; a place where gender discrimination is ubiquitous. This was yet another classic case of gender discrimination but this time it was the males who were on the receiving end. This reminded me of other incidences of discrimination against men. For instance, at most big shopping malls across the kingdom, weekends are a families-only affair and according to the generally accepted definition, only a male who’s not accompanied by a female is not family while a lone female (spinster or otherwise) is a family all by herself. I call this “misoandry” which, I believe, is at least as prevalent in the society as misogyny.

In my humble opinion, misogyny is a very misleading term to start with. Ever since the times of Abel and Cain, women have been objects of fascination, desire and love for men. It’s always been the men who have had to face the brunt of hatred and I have always been of the view that a lot needs to be done in countries like Saudi Arabia and Pakistan to address this discrimination against males.

Okay, Saudi Arabia does have its fair share of instances where females are discriminated against but when you think of Pakistan, or at least the urban parts of Pakistan, there’s nothing that a woman in her right state of mind would want to do that she cannot do while in Pakistan. Women have as much rights as men and in addition to all these “equal” rights, they have their very own “for-females-only” rights as we’ll discuss further.

To start off, let’s consider a very “everyday” example. I, and most of my male compatriots, readily yield their seats on public transport as soon as they see a female passenger standing up. I’m sure Rosa Parks would have strongly objected to this practice of discrimination but we term this as ethics. It is not compulsory; and men are not forced to be gentlemen but if someone decides otherwise, it’s never taken well by the bystanders (or the bysitters) and there are always a few raised eyebrows as if the women have a right to each and every seat on the public transport system in Pakistan.

Now consider education, another famous forte of the feminists. Feminists have always argued that women don’t have an equal access to higher education. Many universities in Pakistan, especially the government universities, have a special quota for female students in addition to the merit based seats. There are a handful of other categories also, each having its own criterion, but none based on gender except the female quota. All other categories/quotas provide an “equal” opportunity to the males and the females but on top of this, we have our very own female-only category giving the females effectively better chances of getting admitted to the university.

And when these females get into the universities - albeit in a smaller number than what the mathematical probability suggests - they have a relatively easier path to the degree as compared to their male counterparts. During my four years at the university, I never saw a girl flunk in a viva voce unless and until she herself was hell-bent on it. While the guys were judged on how much they knew about the electromagnetic theory, the ladies were judged on how well they had made themselves up.

And when these women have breezed their way through the university and are looking for a job, you’ll always find them nagging about job opportunities for females being scarcer as compared to those for males; completely disregarding the notion that it’s the extra “fringe benefits” women want that deter most employers from employing them. Jobs generally have certain requirements; some may require the employee to commute a lot while others may demand working in late shifts. Whenever a woman goes in for a job interview, she neither wants to work in late shifts nor does she want a job where she has to commute a lot and when she doesn’t get that job, she says that the employer was biased.

And if an employer errs by hiring a woman for such a job, it becomes his “duty” to provide for her special needs. Remember the uproar in India a couple of years ago when a call center worker in Bangalore was abducted on her way back home late in the night. Following the incident, each and very NGO in the country had taken to the streets asking for “better” transport and “extra” protection for female employees working late shifts. And these were the same NGOs who spend rest of their year rallying around for “equal” rights for women. So much for equality.

Bluntly speaking, female employees are a tad more of a pain in the neck as compared to male employees. They need better transport, more protection, maternity leaves, no late shifts etc. etc. Why would an employer want to employ a female and go through all this fuss of arranging special “services” for her when he can get a male employee of similar caliber willing to work on similar wages without demanding any special treatment?

On the other hand, there actually are a certain jobs where women are preferred over men just because of their gender (read sex) appeal. Jobs like customer care, front desk personnel, secretaries et al. I’m not here to question the morality of the people who employ female secretaries just because they are female; but the fact goes without saying that female secretaries are a lot more in demand. Now, when these women ARE given preference over men, it’s again a crime against the women community. The employer is readily labeled as a “pervert” and the poor female soul stands as the victim (… by the way, one’s just got to go into an interview room to see the “charm offensive” some of these ladies launch). Some people just want to be more equal than others.

Also, you see a lot more nurses (and I don’t feel the need to prefix it with female) as compared to male nurses. Though this is a job – unlike most other jobs - that is better suited for women because of a few traits they are born with à la tenderness, kindness, softness etc., the concepts of gender equality dictate that there should be roughly as many male nurses as female nurses. Even though this is not the case, I am yet to see a rally organized by male nurses against this act of gross discrimination.

Feminists have been grumbling since forever and a day about how women have never had equal rights and how they have never been provided with enough opportunities. I believe it’s time somebody thought about men and the way they are discriminated against. Forget feminism, say hello to masculinism.

Disclaimer: The piece does not entirely reflect the opinions of the author. It is an attempt to highlight the other side of the story, whilst trying to make a point that arguments are needed to be looked at in a context.

A Free Being...

I looked on as the blurred images sharpened and started to make sense. Lying beside me was a lady I couldn’t recognize but somehow could relate with. It was my mother who had just given birth to me. I don’t remember why but I was crying when I should have been smiling because one of my first perceptions was a sense of freedom. I was a free being, born in a free world of free people where one could do whatever one wanted.

As a toddler, I was even “allowed” to do whatever I wanted but I couldn’t. Nature restricted me; my physical abilities hampered me. At times, I didn’t have the power to do what I wanted and at other times, the resources. I had to cry when I wanted something. I didn’t like it but I had to. The same cry for everything I needed; at times my caretakers catered to my needs but at other times they failed to decipher my cries. I wanted to run but I couldn’t… I could only sit. I wanted to play but I didn’t know how to… I could only lie down and see people around me seemingly doing what they wanted. I wanted to grow up because I thought that my physical limitations were the only thing that came between me and my aspirations.

I grew up. I could now run. I could now play but then I realized that I was captivated within doors; doors with knobs so high I couldn’t reach them. I wanted to reach those doorknobs and see what was beyond them. Finally the day came, when I could open the doors and go outside but outside I found other, bigger doors; doors to which I never had the keys so I had to curb my desires. I could only go outside when an elder accompanied. I liked it that way too but I wanted more space. I wanted to go out whenever “I” wanted to and not when somebody else decided.

Then one fine day, my mom took my hand and confronted me with an edifice which everyone was referring to as a school. I was supposed to go alone to that place afterwards. That sounded so much fun. I liked the feeling of being let out alone but there were newer restrictions. I was bound by rules and regulations. At school too, I had to stay indoors most of the time and the little time I got to set my wings free was too short to suffice my appetite for freedom; but I conceded.

Life moved on. I could now move in and out of the big metal door – even alone. I started to feel like a free man but I couldn’t go as far as I wanted to and even when I did, I had to return on scheduled times. I had to do my homework which I hated and I had to go to school which I had started to hate because I no more needed it as an excuse to go out. Time kept flying. I was a young man now. The school wasn’t that much of a fuss anymore and the homework, in its essence, had reduced. I was a high school student. I had almost started to enjoy life but then I was told I couldn’t. I had to study. I had to fare well in the exams because that was the only way I would get admitted to a reputed college and if I were unable to get into a good college, I would never be able to make it big in this world. I succumbed. I could hang out with my friends but I had to be back home for my lessons. I loved to play in the streets but my study-room was always staring at me through its stained-glass windows. I slew my desires and devoted myself to studying because I wanted to make it big. I wanted to be a success story because I was told that it was the sole route to "freedom".

I persevered. I got into the best college in town. But before I had even breathed a sigh of relief, I was told that the high school was just a stepping stone; it is one’s academic achievements during the “all-important” years at college which determine one’s fate. I listened. I agreed. I was told I had to abstain from all the charms and allures of this ‘delicate’ phase of life that could make me go stray from the “right” path. I had a crush on that girl next door but I realized that I couldn’t do anything about it because I had more important things to deal with in life. I tolerated, because I had a belief in all those people who had assured me that I could do whatever I wanted to once I had achieved my goals, "my" goals which weren’t even set by me.

The college days went like a breeze but a breeze I could never relish. I was sent off to a far off university because if I had to have a decent career, I had to be educated from the best place in the country. Whatever happened to all my achievements at the high school and college, I never got to know. I stayed away from home but adhered to the principles I was entrusted with. I wanted to live my own life and I wanted to make my own decisions but I had to make sure that whatever I did, I had to bear in mind that I was not a single entity, I was part of a system; a system that was my family, my relatives, my society… I complied. I got the news that the girl I loved was married off to someone else because she couldn’t wait. She couldn’t wait because she herself was part of a system with rules she had to comply with. It hurt but I took it in.

I came back from the university with ambitions but ambitions which would die sitting in my mind just because they seemed too radical to people around me. I couldn’t do what I wanted to because the career I had chosen for myself had too many risks associated with it. I wanted to do something that would satisfy my appetite for creativity but I was forced to work in an environment where I felt suffocated and claustrophobic. I obeyed. I joined a 9 to 5 job which was never 9 to 5. Life wasn’t great but for once, it had started to settle down.

The work life had only just started to sink in when people around me started telling me that it was time I got married. I didn’t want to, because I still had a lot to do in life but I had to heed to my elders’ advice because they were always right. They wanted me to marry my uncle’s daughter. I gave in. I agreed. I got married.

I moved out. For once, I felt that I had broken away from the system. A system which I loved but one that never gave me the breathing space I’d always craved for. I had started enjoying my new “discrete” life. I had two kids. The kids infused a pleasant freshness into my  dull life. A freshness I hadn’t felt since I was a kid myself. I wanted to be with my kids but my job required me to work late and at times I had to stay out of town for weeks at stretch. I was too indulged in providing for my family that I failed to realize that my kids had already grown up. Life had whizzed past too quickly. My daughter got married and left us for good. My son went abroad for higher studies and decided that it was there that he wanted to stay for the rest of his life. My wife and I were alone again. I was still working but the long working hours had started to take their toll on an old man’s health. I developed a disease which left me bedridden. It kept getting worse. I was admitted to the hospital. The doctor told my wife that I wasn’t going to make it. I was dying. 


One day, the doctor came to me and asked if I’d like to get a life-ending substance injected into my body to relieve me of my pains or I’d like to suffer from these excruciating pains until I died naturally....

I could only smile as I thought to myself:

At last, I was ‘free’ to make a choice of my own.