Saturday, June 22, 2013

Why do you need a number?

Why do you need a number to judge me?
Is that all I am?
Classrooms tell us, we are not war prisoners,
but classrooms define us with numbers.
Numbers tell you how much I "know".
Knowledge tells us a person is not one item,
not a statistic.
Then why does one number make you better than me?

I am not my 53 in Chem or 94 in English.
You are not a 2400 on your SAT.
We are more, we are bigger,
but if you need a number so desperately,
I define you as infinity.

Inspiration has no measure,
nor hard work.
Not that fantastic feeling of pleasure that hits you
when you finally understand why
the slope of the curve is the limit of h tends to zero
f of bracket x plus h bracket plus f of x
over h.

I don't slog completing notes on all-nighters,
I don't even study that much.
I understand, I understand more than you think I do.
But if my identification number is less than what someone expects
I'm a failure.

Why do you need a number to see my talents?
Can't you just let me prove them to you?

Why is physics more important than poetry?
Because it has more numbers?
Because it's mechanical, rarely a talent?
Why is there no credit for the Rimbauds, the Ginsbergs,
The ones who challenge the status quo,
The Poes who make dark days darker,
The Shakespearian sonnets of woe?
Why is conformity rewarded,
one zero zero,

... and the freethinkers left hanging?

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness
starving hysterical well-dressed in a school uniform -
miracleworker marksgetters or periodic blunders -
high numbers or insane wonders.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Twitter, sexism, and jeans. Mostly just sexism.

This happened, yesterday.

Female Relative 1 : Amhi tar saadi ghaalunach collegela jaycho. Hya aajchya muli, tyanche kay te - "jeans" - ani sagla...kahi vahiyadpana kartaat.
Female Relative 2 : Ho, ga!
FR1 : Anhi kaay, ekda tar eka muli varti koni acid phekla...
FR2 : Mag kay!
Me : Jeans shi kaay sambandha?
FR1 : Jeans nahi, ga, pan aajchi pora... tila sambhalayla pahije hota.
Me : Mhanje kaay, muli chi chook hoti?
FR 2 : Nahi ga, pan neet kapde ghaalayche na, aasa nasta jhaala...
Me : Mhanje kaay? Teene kahi ghaatla asta, tya mulane acid taklach asta. Ma kay saglikade helmet ghaalun jaaycha? Ani mulavar kahi dosh nahi?
FR1 : Dosh cha prashnach nahi ga, tyaachich chook, pan tila sambhalayla pahije hota...

At this point I got sick of arguing. So I just politely walked off (ironically, into the kitchen. That's another matter, though).
For my people who don't know Marathi, here's how it went.

Female Relative 1 : When we were young, we used to wear saris to college. Girls of today, their "jeans" and things...they think they can do anything.
Female Relative 2 : Totally! (Or the old lady's equivalent of Totally!)
FR1 : What's more, they throw acid on the girls...
FR2 : *literally this means Then,What? but it actually says, What Else Did She Expect?*
Me : How is this related to her jeans?
FR1 : It's not about jeans, ga, but she should have been more careful.
Me : So what, it was her fault?
FR2 : No, ga, but if she had worn proper clothes, this wouldn't have happened...
Me : What? Whatever the girl would have worn, the guy would have attacked her with acid. So do we go around everywhere with helmets? And isn't the boy to blame here?
FR1 : It's not about the blame, of course it's his fault, but she should have been more careful...

I would have translated into Hindi, German, French, Dothraki and Elvish, but I think you've undesrstood most of it.

Seriously, are we in the 21st century? Are we in India, one of a handful of places where goddesses are worshipped? Are people (a surprising majority) really saying that it's the girl's fault?

I'm not an expert, I'm a 16 year old kid with a laptop. And a brain and dreams of changing the world etc. Stupid and naive, that way. But even I can see this is waaaaay messed up.

After getting bored of Farmville requests and selfies, I decided to use social media for better causes. The first was finding this brilliant page on Facebook, Feminist India (links at the bottom). It's not out-and-out man-hate (which is what most people think feminism is. It's really not). It's simple logic and reason and pissedoffness at our messed up system. And it's making me do better things with my life, now that I've actually started realizing how messed up things are.

I moved on to Twitter. This is weird because of all the people I know on real life, there are maybe 5 on Twitter. But I snooped around and found @EverydaySexism. Which is one of the most shocking things ever (links at the bottom). And also, Lindy West, Lauren Rankin, Jaime Kilstein, Alison Kilkenny, Jeff Fecke. I did not actually think there could ever be popular people who cared about political and social issues (sexism and LGBT rights are the forefront). Upworthy, anyone? (link at the bottom.)

It's gotten to the point where I skip bedtime reading to read blogposts. And think about writing fanmail to these people because they're awesome people who are changing, if not the world, at least my life.

And where social issues are concerned, even one person can make an incredible difference.

*tried to end with a powerful inspirational line to get more people to become activists but probably fails*

http://www.facebook.com/FeministIndia?fref=ts
https://twitter.com/EverydaySexism
http://www.upworthy.com/
And more links but I'm too lazy to post them.
Seriously, though. Try to make the world nicer. It's not that hard.