The Beat May 2022 by The Beat

EDITORS’ NOTE Dear Readers, Toni Morrison once said, “In times of dread, artists must never choose to remain silent.” We believe it applies not only to artists. As a disturbing anti-Muslim rhetoric grips India, in our third and final edition of The Beat 2022, we attempt to bring you stories from people bearing the brunt of it. The current ruling dispensation in India, and in Karnataka, have found that promoting ‘Hindu-consolidation’ and creating a common enemy — Muslims, at the moment — is the perfect recipe for electoral victory. Sadly, although it goes against the principles on which the nation fought for Independence and won it, the strategy appears to be working. While pressing issues such as unemployment and job losses, general economic decline, price rise and several pandemic-inflicted problems are on the rise, so is the hate and segregation against minority communities in general and muslims in particular. With Assembly elections due in 2023 in Karnataka, calls to further isolate the muslim community appear to get shriller by the day. Beginning with the move to ban the hijab in schools, it quickly moved to a call to ban the azaan – the call for prayer – over loudspeakers. Muslim traders were disallowed from setting up shops at hindu festivities and near temples. Even as this was being debated, hindutva organisations began demanding a ban on halal meat. In all these issues, what appears to stand out is the partisan attitude of the State, which has shed all characteristics of a secular democracy. This issue of The Beat is about how muslims are viewing these developments. Apart from the voices of some prominent clerics, politicians and celebrities in the muslim community, we do not know what the common muslim is feeling and thinking. The issue is an attempt to bring voices from behind the veil, so to speak. From a humane butcher who understands animals, a professional whose career was cut short by a discriminatory workplace, a woman who believes the hijab is liberating, a devout Muslim for whom azaan is his heartbeat, to a Gen-Z techie for whom religion is not the only identity, The Beat reporters met a cross section of muslims. Their stories form the first part of the magazine. The art and culture section of the magazine features stories exploring contemporary issues about toxic masculinity and how men are confused over the issue, viewership of women’s cricket, and an interview with award-nominated journalist, Meaghan Beatley, who covered femicide in Mexico. We also take you on a tour of Subbama’s Angadi — a Bengaluru staple, and examine the relationship between Met Gala and social media. Just as we were finishing this last issue came the terrible news of our colleague and friend Aditya Pandey’s tragic death. We are shattered. It will be a while before we can come to terms with it, if at all. As ‘the show must go on’, we momentarily set aside grief to address duty. Editors, Simran Sharma & Arshreet Singh 3

Aditya Pandey (1999-2022) Aditya was one of the kindest, most caring souls in the entire campus. He was a friend to all. He never said no to anyone for anything, with two exceptions: he would never let someone buy a cigarette with his money, and he would never share his packet of Hide&Seek biscuits with anyone. Pandey’s idea of fun never involved drinking. While the inner dancers in us woke up only after a few shots, he would start dancing long before anyone else gathered the courage. And a surprisingly good dancer he was too. When it came to work, Pandey’s was immaculate. He went above and beyond to make sure he had good visuals for his stories and that all the sources were in place. He wanted to be a developmental journalist and do something for his hometown, Bilaspur, in Chhattisgarh. Pandey was a lover of dogs, and they naturally gravitated towards him too. It made sense then that he wanted to open a pet cafe later in his life. He once took an injured pup we found on the road to a vet in Kengeri, and stayed up all night taking care of it. The vet had said the puppy may not survive if it does not make it through the night. The puppy didn’t make it, but it revealed the heart of gold that Pandey had. There are so many happy moments of Pandey saved in our collective memories forever. No one deserves to leave the world at such a young age. Pandey had so much life to live. It is unfair and cruel to think that we will go about life and he will not. But Pandey will always live in our hearts. We miss him dearly.

CONTENTS 06

For Nausheen, the hijab is liberating Ayndrila Banerjee

When a call for prayer sets off alarm bell Simran Sharma

The man, his god and his life Shristi Achar A

When one man’s meat is another man’s problem Kashish Sharma

“My religion is not my identity” Arshreet Singh

“Making our source feel at ease is key” Arshreet Singh

The modern male dilemma Simran Sharma

An ‘angadi’ with snacks and history Shristi Achar A

Why don’t we watch women’s cricket? Ayndrila Banerjee

Once-exclusive fashion event is on everyone’s fingertips Kashish Sharma

Childhood-gloriously found and tragically lost Vinaya K

Front Cover Apeksha Priya

Back Cover Kriti Mathur

MINORITY REPORT

For Nausheen, the hijab is liberating By Ayndrila Banerjee

The incident where girls were denied entry in their college because they were wearing hijab, sparked off an entire debate on whether or not students should be allowed to wear “religious symbols” in colleges | Credit: KPN

ausheen Sultana was 14 years old when she decided to wear a hijab. Now she is 29 and works as a software engineer in Bengaluru. The hijab row that had erupted in Karnataka’s Udupi had a ripple effect in other parts of the country, especially in the capital city. The row has left women in hijab insecure about their future and safety. Nausheen is one of them. “At a very young age I had decided to wear the Hijab. It was entirely my choice. Nobody imposed it on me since my own family took a little while to accept me wearing a Hijab. But my decision to take it up was based on the time I started to read more about my religion. The more I learnt about Islam, the more I related to it. It felt very meaningful to me,” said Nausheen who seemed very 6

pleased to have taken the decision to wear a hijab. The hijab has different meanings to different people. For some it might be oppressive, while for others it might be liberating. Historically speaking, the purpose of hijab was to ‘protect’ women from male gaze. According to popular beliefs, there was a time when the hijab was only worn by Prophet Mohammed’s wives to shield them from his enemies.

“I feel protected when I wear the Hijab. It gives me the respect I deserve while wearing it.” For Nausheen, Hijab means respect as well as protection. At the same time, she believes that muslim women who choose not to wear the

hijab are well within their rights to do so. “I feel protected when I wear the Hijab. It gives me the respect I deserve while wearing it. So, when I walk out the house wearing the hijab, I am taking the fuss away from how I look or how my hair is. I can have people look at me for who I am, for how I can think or how I can talk. I personally don’t want people to form an image of me based on how I dress or look. In these ways I feel that the hijab has liberated me. Now, I have less things to bother about as I am covered with the hijab most of the time,” she said. The incident where girls were denied entry in their college because they were wearing hijab, sparked off an entire debate on whether or not students should be allowed to wear “religious symbols” in educational

institutions. Finally on 16th March 2022, it was settled by the Karnataka High Court that the hijab is a “nonessential religious practice” and that students must maintain uniformity in schools and colleges. However, in the larger context the row had affected many hijab wearing women, either directly or indirectly. For Nausheen it was an indirect violation of her right. Furthermore, she feels that not many people have stood by her during the hijab row. She said, “Since I haven’t actually had anyone to tell me to take my hijab off yet, I wouldn’t say I have felt anything close to what those girls have gone through. But at the same time, having this entire hijab row happening and not hearing from my non-Muslim friends to check up on

me, whom I have grown up with, who know what hijab means to me, has definitely affected me. I feel like there is no sense of solidarity.”

All of this has taken away my confidence,” she said.

“I obviously don’t feel as secure or as confident as I used to before (the Hijab row).”

To draw a parallel, back in 1984 many Sikhs had to give up wearing the turban to conceal their identity as Sikhs in the context of the anti-Sikh riots. Many young girls today are being forced to take off their hijabs when stepping out of their homes.

Nausheen can’t help but think that all eyes are on her- as a woman who wears a hijab- as soon as she steps out of her home. “I am not sure if things have changed or it is just my imagination but I obviously don’t feel as secure or as confident as I used to before. Now it feels like my neighbours or my colleagues or my friends are maybe one of those people who think that hijab is problematic.

Nausheen does not plan on giving up the hijab as a result of the row. If anything, she is now firm on defending her right to wear it. “I am someone who has always done what I think is right for me. I don’t compromise my choices, regardless of what people think. So, I won’t ever give up something that is a part of my identity, that is, my hijab.”

Many young girls today are being forced to take off their hijabs when stepping out of their homes to attend schools or colleges in Karnataka |Credit: KPN 7

MINORITY REPORT

When a call for prayer sets off alarm bells By Simran Sharma

Loudspeakers continue to be used in Char Minnar Masjid in Shivajinagar | Credit: Simran Sharma

n the hustle-bustle of Russell Market, a pair of squinting eyes glared at the phone screen and then looked around, shifting from one person to the other and falling back on the screen again. The middle-aged man with a petite body wore a sky blue cotton kurta. A boy who works at his shop did not come that day. Sitting idle, his restless gaze settled on an old tea seller, who agreed to take care of the shop when he went for his afternoon Namaz. 8

Wajid Sait, the middle-aged man, is in fact a welder who looks after his brother’s meat shop in Shivajinagar. His family has been living there since his grandfather came from Ooty during the Independence. His house is just a few kilometers away from the Char Minar Masjid, and so is his brother’s shop. Being a devout Muslim, he goes to the masjid five times a day for Namaz. He recalled the days when he was

a 5-year-old and didn’t know what azaan or namaz meant. For him, it was a way to get a piece of Paya (goat’s leg) from the beef market after their evening namaz. He remembers being dragged out of bed at five in the morning by his father and his three brothers, after listening to the morning azaan. His father used to teach him to do wudhu (the ritual of washing hands and face before prayer) and namaz.

“In that whole process, I was most interested in the fact that I will get baadam milk (almond milk) after the prayers,’’ recalls Wajid. Along with his brothers, he used to stand at the mosque gate and wait for the old chacha who sold almond milk. As they grew up, they spent their days praying, playing, and sleeping in the mosque. From being that kid to being a father of two girls and a boy, Wajid has always held his religion close to his side. With his elder daughter’s wedding scheduled in January next year, he recalls how fast time has passed. The only constant that he has had in his life except for his family is his beliefs and religion.

“The first voice I hear is that of azaan, and for me, it is like my ‘dil ki dhakan’ ( heartbeat).” Since his childhood, he has been waking up to the sound of the morning azaan, which has continued even now. “The first voice I hear is that of azaan, and for me, it is like my ‘dil ki dhakan’ ( heartbeat).” He believes that if he does not hear it, his day won’t be good. For him, azaan is God’s call for prayer, which is the most pious thing in his life. He says that azaan calls people from different social and financial backgrounds to come and pray together because everyone is equal in God’s eyes. For him, the whole azaan controversy has been a political gambit. He wonders why azaan, which had been playing on a loudspeaker for years, is suddenly a problem. “We have Ganesh processions, and church bells also ring early in the morning, but nobody questions that. They are also loud enough for a person to get a heart attack.” He added that some mosques are also adopting methods to reduce the decibel levels. Wajid believes that stopping loudspeakers in mosques would not change anything as people have alarms nowadays to remind them of

Namaz. But azaan is still an integral part of a Muslim’s life, he said. While sipping the third glass of tea, he burnt his tongue. He got engrossed in that burning sensation that he forgot what he was talking about for a split second. Then quickly gaining back his lost memory, he pounced back to the conversation. He said that he fears these recent decisions are pointing toward a bigger issue. He calls this a political strategy to target a community. He believes that the root cause of the divide is that Islam has been misrepresented and misunderstood. Shivajinagar is called ‘mini Pakistan’ because it is a Muslim-dominated area. Because of it, many people are fearful while coming to the Russell market. He continued that people have this radical image of Muslims because many of them are afraid. Touching his long beard, he said, “People fear seeing this.” Wajid has grown up watching Ramayana and playing with Hindu friends. “I have many Hindu friends. They come to my shop, sit and have tea. We share food and gifts at our festivals. I remember I gave biryani on this Eid to one of my Hindu friends, and she told me that they ate it for three days. I went to Bihar once, and I stayed at my Hindu friend’s place and ate jowar, rice, and roti. I do not understand where the divide is” He added that during Covid times bodies were buried irrespective of their religion, and thus all this divide between religions has just been a part of a political game plan. Areas where the Muslim population is less were the ones facing the problem of loudspeakers the most, he said. “Are loudspeakers not being used, or are girls not wearing hijab now? See, everybody has their family and work to look after, and nobody has this much time.” Wajid started looking restlessly on the streets again, until he found that tea seller. After a breath of satisfaction, he continued that society does have some people who are creating all these conflicts and that Muslims

have been divided among themselves, which weakens them. He said that he is not afraid of what is going to happen. But he does believe that time will change for the good. Wajid went on to explain the history of azaan. He said that back in time, Bilal, who Muhammad chose as a Muezzin (the person who calls others for the daily prayer), called people for worship. But with technological innovations, use of loudspeakers had come into being. He said there is a time gap between the azaan and namaz for people’s convenience, with the maximum being given in the morning time, which is 45 minutes. Suddenly his phone rang with a loud alarm, and it was 12.45 p.m. He looked outside and beckoned the tea seller who came rushing in. He got up, and within no time, he said, “Allah Hafiz”, before the petite body receded into the alley’s darkness

......... In April 2022, Hindutva groups started demanding a ban on loudspeakers for azaan after the halal meat controversy. They even called for playing of the Hanuman Chalisa at 5 am in temples to counter the azaan. The row started in Maharashtra when Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS) chief Raj Thackery made statements on the issue and asked the state government to remove the loudspeakers from the mosques. Meanwhile, the Karnataka government issued an order that those operating public address systems would have to apply and seek permission within 15 days. The order is based on a Supreme Court ruling that p.a. systems should not be used between 10 pm and 6 am. ......... 9

MINORITY REPORT

When one man’s meat is another man’s problem By Kashish Sharma

Front view of Rahman’s meat shop | Credit : Kashish Sharma

n an ordinary Thursday morning, Atheequr Rahman, a 47-year old man sits in his meat shop. The meat shop is right across the busy Russell Market of Shivajinagar in Bengaluru. As one enters the busy lane, lined with meat shops on the right, one can catch sight of Rahman’s cubicle. A U-shaped shop with a desk and chair at the entrance finds Rahman negotiating with a poultry trader and in between greeting his old customers. More than an average height, dressed in an orange shirt and brown pants, 10

Rahman is seen wearing a white skullcap, commonly called Taqiyah among the Muslim community. His house is a few minutes ride from the shop. He usually starts his work around 9 am. He is a butcher by profession, a tradition that is more than 50 years old in his family. It was in 1995 when Rahman decided to take over the shop following the demise of his father and his two brothers moving to different places. Rahman is a father to three daughters. His eldest daughter is appearing for board exams this year. Caught in

between the Hijab controversy, he says with a smile, “My daughters will appear for the exam. They wear the Hijab till they reach school and then remove it on entering classes. If the school intends to bring down any differences among children, then it’s fine.” Rahman has a pre-university degree and shared his old dream of doing higher studies. “I wanted to study further but since all my brothers moved out, I was the only son left to look after the shop. My father’s demise changed things for me and my family,” he said.

“ To do halal, one needs an emotional connect with the animal. We are in tune with its breath, its pain, its suffering. We are involved in the process

“ Rahman seen negotiating with a trader | Credit : Kashish Sharma

“

Everyday we lose about 30 to 40 birds. At the risk of losing our resources, we never serve what is not good. This work requires strong principles

“

Furry birds occupying the outer shacks of the shop | Credit : Kashish Sharma 11

On entering the shop, on the right, is an array of cages. All the healthy birds and chickens have been kept separately from the weaker, constitutionally inferior birds. A young man in his twenties and an old man assist Rahman in his work. The old man has been serving the shop for a long time. Towards the outside of the shop are some cages that house birds whose fur has not been removed.

‘It needs more than skill to slaughter an animal’ As Rahman talks to the traders, he keeps an eye on the cages. Without even looking in the direction of the poultry shack, he guesses that a bird inside is suffocating to death. His intuition is on point as the bird comes out half-dead out of the cage. He then picks up a big steel blade and walks toward the struggling bird. Picking it from the neck, he makes a smooth cut, much like a surgeon, at specific places, tearing its carotid artery and windpipe. He then waits for the blood to flow out of its body and throws away the carcass in the waste bin. “I live by honest work. Every day 30-40 birds die because of excessive heat. Even when we are culling the poultry, we do it in a prescribed way. We bless the animal while killing it and also at the risk of losing our resources, we never serve what is not good. This work needs strong principles,” said Rahman. Rahman also says that he feeds the poultry with water and food and has an intuitive connection with each of these animals. “Slaughtering needs emotions as well. We are in tune with the breath of the animal, its suffering, its pain. We are involved in the process,” he said.

“Halal does not make meat impure” For Rahman, slaughtering is not simply a profession. The practice of slaughtering is intermingled with the fundamental tenets of his religion. Every part of the process is in accordance with the Islamic law, as prescribed by the Holy Quran. Rahman clears his voice, in composure he settles back on the chair. He nar12

rates the ancient folktale of Prophet Abraham dreaming of Allah who asked him to sacrifice what he loved the most. The legend says that as Abraham was about to sacrifice his son Isaac, an angel appeared and prevented the killing by providing a lamb to be sacrificed instead. The act was a testimony of Abraham’s unconditional love for God and hence the day came to be celebrated as Eid-al-Fitr across the world. It is a day of making sacrifices to the God. Rahman says that slaughtering poultry or any other animal is an extension of the same values he has grown up with. Before making the cut, he says, they make a prayer to the almighty, thanking him for his greatness and seeking blessings for the dead animal. “We say Bismillah Allahu Akbar, which means simply one is thanking God. What is wrong in thanking God. Does it makes the meat impure? We are not doing anything that is fundamentally wrong,” said Rahman.

Halal Vs Other Rahman goes on to explain the concept of ‘halal’ versus the ‘haram’. He says that anything that is forbidden by the Islamic law is haram, which can’t be consumed. “Blood is haram. We are not meant to consume it. It explains the method we apply for slaughtering. In halal meat, the blood is completely drained out of the animal’s body,” he explains. As per the Halal Food Authority, animals must be alive at the time of slaughter since the carrion is forbidden. The jugular vein, carotid artery and windpipe have to be severed by a razor sharp knife by a single swipe of hand. This is done to cause very little suffering to the animal. However, some animal protection agencies claim that the time duration between the cut made and the complete draining of the blood causes animal to suffer as it loses its consciousness slowly. Rahman leans forward, widens his eyes and says, “All these big hotels and restaurants prefer halal meat because they know it is more healthy. Blood contains toxins in large quantities. When the blood is made to drain out, it takes the toxins away. In other procedures, they

make a blunt cut that causes instant clotting. The blood along with the toxins remains inside.”

Stunning- a point of conflict Stunning is the process of rendering animals – usually, much larger animals – immobile or unconscious immediately prior to slaughtering them for food. Under the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (PCA) Act 1960, the slaughterers must prevent the infliction of unnecessary pain or suffering on animals. According to the Animal Welfare Board of India, no animal must be slaughtered when pregnant and in sight of other animals. Experts claim killing an animal in front of other animals can inflict fear and distress among other animals. The Royalty Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals in Europe prescribes electrical stunning, captive bolt stunning (blow to the animal’s head with force) and causing suffocation through gas. These practices render animals unconscious before being bled out at slaughter. While some Muslim butcherers use stunning, others don’t. The practice comes in direct conflict with the Halal meat principle, for which the animal to be slaughtered must be alive at the time of slaughter.

Just a business Reacting to the recent Halal-Jhataka meat controversy, Rahman says that the governments are always in a state of transition. These governments, he says, come and go. Common people like himself must keep on doing what they do to sustain our families. Rahman sells around 200 to 300 Kgs of chicken a day, largely to eateries such as hotels, cafes and restaurants. Thanks to his permanent clients, his income remains decent, he says. But if things get worse, he would have to leave the business, he says. “One day we have to leave the world: this is just a business,” said an emotional Rahman, wiping off the sweat from his forehead. With a grim face, Rahman said, “It is sad to see Bangalore losing its identity in the midst of this political drama.”

MINORITY REPORT

The man, his god and his life By Shristi Achar A

Mohammad Yusuf and his employer, at the apparel shop in Majestic, Upparpet. The shop has existed over 20 years in this area | Credit: Shristi Achar A

‘

Sukri shopping arcade’ seems like any average shop, with apparels and outfits for all those who visit it. But the shop carries a huge weight of its past and an extremely uncertain future, miles away from its cheery atmosphere. Situated close to the Anjaneya Temple in the busy Upparpet area of Majestic, in Bengaluru, the Muslim-owned shop is one of many that may have to shut down. Recently, a delegation led by Hindu Janajagruti Samiti demanded that all non-hindu shops in the vicinity of the Anjaneya Temple in Upparpet be removed. Mohammad Yusuf Khan will not have many options left if he has to take leave from his shop in Sukri Shopping Arcade. Starting his life as a journalist and slowly downgrading to a daily wage labourer, Yusuf’s story is

a stark example of discrimination. Handing me a piping hot cup of coffee, he said: “I grew up in Hyderabad and moved to Bhatkal, Karnataka, soon after completing my education. I was very interested in writing and current affairs, so I thought I’ll give journalism a try. I worked in an organisation called Daily Salar there. It was only seven or eight years ago that I moved to Bengaluru, to join an MNC…those were good years. But I had to soon quit that job.” He narrated how as a result of people playing dirty politics, he often found himself having to leave working on projects he was close to finishing. Ultimately, he had to quit the job. And while he did try to find other opportunities, nothing ever worked for him. It took some nudging for Yusuf to

admit that it was his identity as a Muslim that forced him into quitting the organisation: “No one would say anything directly to me, but that was the reason. I was always on the verge of finishing something and suddenly they would pull me out of it, with-

As a result of people playing dirty politics, he often found himself having to leave working on projects he was close to finishing. Ultimately, he had to quit the job. out giving any reasons. I couldn’t bear to work in such an environment anymore. I heard from a few well-wishers in the office about the kinds of conversations that happened about my religion. So after that, I was forced to quit.” 13

Yusuf lives with his wife and two kids aged 14 and 9 years. His meagre income makes it difficult to manage his family of four and the ever increasing expenses it brings along. Besides, having worked in better jobs, he knows the potential he holds but has to settle for less. He recalled some

“My customers call me ‘sahib’. If they hated me or what I believed in, they wouldn’t be in the shop and certainly wouldn’t respect me as ‘sahib’. So I can’t believe that people don’t want me to work.” incidents where he was unable to pay his children’s’ fees on time since he had no money. “It isn’t necessary that I have to earn big money to have a life. I can be comfortable with less money too, but the point of me getting educated was to break free from the cycle of no opportunities. And the fact that I don’t

get to reach my true potential bothers me more,” he said. In this juncture, the shop he is in is the only place of work he has. And the fact that the existence of the shop is endangered, Yusuf feels disappointed. “You know, this wasn’t always the norm. I grew up with Hindus, the people I interact with are Hindus, and 99 per cent of the customers here are Hindus. Nobody has any issues with me or what god I pray to. We have always respected each other. So I know for a fact that people in general aren’t causing any problems. It is just some people in power that do this,” he said.

“It simply doesn’t make sense to me. My customers call me ‘sahib’. If they hated me or what I believed in, they wouldn’t be in the shop and certainly wouldn’t respect me as ‘sahib’. So I can’t believe that people don’t want me to work.”

Talking about his career and the multiple blocks he had hit so far, Yusuf said that he wouldn’t know what other occupation to pick up if he can’t even earn a daily wage.

Yusuf thinks that people in the media and positions of power control narratives against vulnerable people, which fuels whatever small differences that exist and would otherwise not be a problem. “If only anyone would focus on simply living and letting others live, neither me nor any vulnerable person would have to go through such unnecessary riots and trauma. Bengaluru used to be peaceful, and a cosmopolitan place where everyone lived in harmony. But such incidents only erase the beauty of this place and do nothing to benefit anyone.”

“In a bid to save their own authority, elites in society plant such nonexistent issues to cause problems. If it is really about religion, I would like to know which religion advocates hate instead of love.” Yusuf wonders.

Looking at my pen and notepad, he quipped that maybe only people like me, with the opportunity and privilege to write for the better, can try and salvage whatever soul is left in the country.

This is the Anjaneya Temple area in Majestic, where the controversy related to Religious Endowment Act has erupted. Several shops in the area were shown the door, citing expiry of contracts and ownership of Muslims. | Credit: Shristi Achar A 14

MINORITY REPORT

“My religion is not my identity” By Arshreet Singh

Courtesy: Nafisya Ichlasita

afis, 20, is a first year electrical engineering student from Bengaluru. From 7 am, when she rises, Nafis spends her day at college. When she comes home, she invariably has college assignments, which leaves little free time for other activities. The time she does get, she spends practising old school hip-hop. She swears by udon, a chewy Japanese noodle soup made from wheat flour, calling it her “soul food”. Her favourite movie of all time is ‘Old Boy’, a tragic story of an obnoxious drunk who is abducted and kept in captivity for 15 years.

ent English and considers herself not religious, much to the dismay of her grandparents and relatives. While her mother can be religious at times, it is not a strictly religious household. Most of Nafis’s friends are not religious either.

Nafis is also a muslim, but there are no visual markers to her religious identitity. She stopped wearing a hijab a few years ago. She speaks flu-

“They’ve said to my face that please don’t talk to my daughter anymore or don’t come near my daughter.”

This secularism on her part however, has not shielded her from being discriminated against based on religion. “I don’t look like a traditional muslim. I usually make friends easily but I’ve had cases where their parents have come to know that I’m a muslim.”

“Since I am a dancer we would often go out to buy our costumes, after that we would go to a friend’s place to chill and I wouldn’t be allowed inside the house,” she revealed. According to a recent report by Pew Research Centre, more than 84 percent of Indians said that to be truly Indian, it is very important to respect all religions. However, our commitment to tolerance is accompanied by a strong preference for keeping religious communities segregated. While Nafis said that she does not follow news anymore as it can get overwhelming, some videos do surface on her social media feeds. She gave an example of a BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party) MLA, one of many, 15

spewing hate against muslims. “There was this one MLA recently who said something about burninMuslims like Ravana on Dussehra,” she said. According to a story by The Wire, BJP MLA Haribhushan Singh Thakur last week said,

“Just like Ravana’s Lanka was burnt by Hanuman ji, the demon-like Ravanas, who are hovering over Bihar and the country, should also be burnt.” Given the context, Thakur meant muslims.

Nafis received her voter card recently, but does not want to vote for any party. “Honestly, I would vote for no party because the choices we have are between the worst, and the less worse,” she said. She blamed the government in power for the increase in violence against Muslims lately. “I think they (BJP and affiliates) have a larger agenda against muslims. It is quite clear. They are changing names of cities which is completely unnecessary and banning hijab also.” Nafis herself had to take off her hijab back in 11th and 12th grade, as the security staff of her college would not allow her to enter with a hijab.

She is concerned about the marginalisation of muslims. “As of now, everybody has a very small ray of hope. No matter how much we try to influence people’s minds, we cannot do it.”

“People will bring incidents of the past saying ‘that happened in the past so this is happening now’. More of like a ‘you did it first so I’m going to do it too” Nafis said that in the end it is only the government that can control the situation, because people blindly follow what the government says. And, it is clear what message the current government is sending across, she adds. “This is not going to head to a good place, because everybody has a limit to their patience and if this keeps happening it is going to burst out at one moment,” she fears. As a May 14 article titled ‘Saffron Nation’ in the The Economist says, a spate of violence broke out in India this spring, but BJP officials made little effort to calm things. To many Indians and in particular to the country’s 200 million Muslims, the world’s biggest religious minority, the government’s shrug of indifference to growing distress is deeply ominous. Many in the community are afraid, Nafis says. Her friends who went through the hijab row have lost hope that they are living in a free country. What about herself? Is she scared? Nafis says it does not. “I am more than a Muslim. My religion is not my identity, there’s a lot more to me than the set of beliefs I choose to follow,” she said.

Courtesy: Nafisya Ichlasita 16

Nafis is hopeful about the future. She believes better education and fact-based awareness can help people become more tolerant, like her friends. “The newer generation is much more understanding and much more accepting. Nobody really asks about religion anymore because it is not a person’s identity and there’s so much more to us that our religion,” she said.

INTERVIEW: MAEGHAN BEATLEY, FREELANCE JOURNALIST

“Making our sources feel at ease is key” By Arshreet Singh

aeghan Beatley, a freelance journalist, covers gender violence and consent for The Guardian, The Nation, The Atlantic and The Fuller Project —an award winning nonprofit newsroom dedicated to reportage on women. She was recently nominated for One World Media’s Best Print Story award for her extensive coverage of femicide (killing of women on account of her gender) in Mexico. Arshreet Singh interviewed Beatley through email, on her journey of reporting for ‘Hunting the men who kill women: Mexico’s femicide detective’, which she wrote for The Guardian in February 2021. Excerpts: How did you get into journalism? I did not actually study journalism. I graduated in English literature from the USA and got a job at the Santiago Times in Chile as a sub-editor. I worked there for a while before working for The Bubble in Argentina. I wanted to cover stories on gender violence and feminism so I started freelancing from then on. What kind of stories do you like to cover? I was quite impressed with the feminism movements in Latin America. They are quite strong in a way it hasn’t been done in the USA or UK. This is why I wanted to write about gender violence and feminism from Latin America for the anglophone audience, as these stories rarely get out of the region. I’ve stuck to that beat ever since. How did you come across the idea for ‘Hunting the men who kill women: Mexico’s femicide detective’? Initially, I saw that there were news reports coming out of Mexico on a journalist (Frida Guerrera) capturing

killers with very brief information. I thought this was a good lead and went on to pursue it. It is, however, occasionally a gamble. I have often given up on a story after realizing there isn’t much there. But I knew there was something here. Once you knew it was a story worth pursuing, how did you go on about it? I contacted Frida on Twitter and she agreed for a phone interview. We spoke for a good 1.5 hours after which I met her in person at a coffee shop. I interviewed her there for more than 3 hours. I usually keep a recorder and avoid taking notes during interviews as I like to engage my source. I had to track all the other sources on my own as Frida was reluctant to give out their information. She can be protective of the victims’ families because of the unscrupulous Yellow journalism in Mexico. Fortunately, I had help from a local journalist who makes short videos. He helped me track down the other sources. How long did the reporting take and what were the challenges you faced while covering this story? A whole year. I started reporting right before the Pandemic started. The story took even longer to get published as The Guardian’s longform team has only three editors and there is quite a backlog of stories. Finding and tracking down sources was difficult, but the biggest challenge I think was building trust and a relationship with the victims. It is important to make the sources feel at ease because they are going through a lot of trauma. It is a delicate process. Apart from that, fact-checking and verifying was a problem because the police weren’t very cooperative. We would get handed these giant sprawling documents with difficult

Meaghan Beatley

language. It took many hours to go through them. Were you pursuing anything else for the one year it took you to report on this story? Do you think you got a return on investment on the amount of money and time you put into it? Oh yes. Long-form writing pays badly. I had multiple side jobs and gigs. At the time I was also writing from Bloomberg to pay for the expenses. The Guardian recently paid for a flight ticket from Barcelona to London for a story I’m covering, but I couldn’t expect them to pay for a flight to Mexico. I definitely did not get a return on investment, but it is still worth it as these stories do get read and end up making a splash. What was a key takeaway from reporting on this story? Learning how to cause the least amount of damage to people who have already suffered is very important. You don’t need them to revisit their traumatic experiences while at the same time you want the information necessary for the story. I want to be more sensitive going forward and to make sure I don’t retraumatize the people who have gone through alot already. 17

TOXIC MASCULINITY

The modern male dilemma By Simran Sharma he have done it if it was a woman?’ started popping on the social media platforms like Instagram and Twitter after the incident. Many women believe that sometimes certain actions of their male friends do make them question whether it was out of care or not. Samiksha Gupta, a student of Bengaluru University remembers while walking on the road, her boyfriend always asks her to walk inside as he walks on the roadside. “I mean if a car comes it will hit him as much as it will hit me. It is not that the car cannot hurt him. I know he does that out of care but sometimes it feels like he does that because he must protect me as he is a man. Will he do this with his male friend… I don’t think so.”

Graffiti of Will Smith slapping Chris Rock at the Oscars 2022 in Berlin, Germany | Courtesy : commons.wikimedia.org

tkarsh Pandit, a civil engineer from Chennai was in class 8th when his teacher told him not to throw water at girls after they had done the same to him. “You are a boy and you should not do these things to girls,” his teacher told him. Utkarsh the boy grew up to be a man idealizing the glory that a man gets from acting in a chivalrous way. He was taught to stand up for women but then in the present day, this may be considered an act of toxic masculinity. He believes this to be a paradox. “I have not experienced such an incident in my life. But I do feel this to be confusing at times. However, if I feel I should stand up for someone, 18

I do irrespective of their gender.” He added that he does not shy away from doing what he feels is right. Although he said that people have become very cautious nowadays. Oscars 2022 became the talk of the town after Hollywood actor Will Smith slapped host and comedian Chris Rock for joking about Smith’s wife. On one hand, netizens applauded Smith’s action, but the whole narrative changed in a day. People started calling his action an act of toxic masculinity. Many argued that his wife was in a position to stand up for herself and that slapping someone is just a way to show off their masculinity. Questions like ‘Would

Some men do think that standing up for a woman when she can do it for herself makes them feel weak about themselves. Sahil Choudhary, a coder from Bengalurusaid, “I usually face this dilemma that should I stand up for her or since she is independent enough so should I let her handle it on her own. I don’t want her to feel weak and be there for her at the same time. But again I do question that if I stand up for her then am I lowering her stand in front of the other person? It is all very confusing sometimes.” Mohammed Irshad, a businessman from Bengaluru has a similar view on the issue. He does not intervene until and unless he is asked to. He believes that women nowadays are independent enough to take a stand for themselves. He also added that there is a lack of sense about what comes under what. “It depends on how people perceive things,” he said. A study by Michigan University states that the belief that ‘real men’ must be strong, tough and independent may affect their social lives and their overall happiness.

SPORTS

Why don’t we watch women’s cricket? By Ayndrila Banerjee

Sports has been dominated by men for a very long time. The Board must ensure that enough money is pumped into the sport so that players don’t have to worry about funding | Credit: Pexels

t’s a Sunday night. People are gearing up for the muchanticipated T20 Men’s world cup between India and Australia. Television sets are on in almost every household, while people celebrate every boundary our players hit. Now, imagine this scenario in the context of a women’s T20 match. Not even the fanatics of the game seem to look forward to a women’s cricket match, even if it is of the worldcup level. According to a research conducted by an online platform ‘SheIs’ that attempts at mobilising fans for women athletes, womencentric sports receive only 4% coverage. Vandit Jain, a cricket lover, watches men’s cricket every time India plays. He keenly follows every tournament, be it T20 or Test matches. But when it comes to women’s cricket, he takes a step back. “I think I lack the kind of emotion I need when it comes to a women’s match. My family has been watching cricket for a very long time and I have grown up in a household that only watches men’s cricket, mainly because women have come late to the party,” he said. Sports has been dominated by men

for a very long time. Even now when many closeted women players are pushed to realise their dreams as sportspersons, poor viewership makes it difficult for them to get recognition in the field. For many viewers the stereotype that women are unable to deliver the same kind of power, energy, aggression or what have you, on the ground dissuades them from watching cricket too. Vikalp Bhatnagar, a student, said: “I feel that the reason why I don’t actively watch women’s matches is because of the nature of the game being less energetic and monotonous as compared to men’s cricket.” Sponsorship plays a major role when it comes to viewership of any sports event. Sponsors put in their money either on a particular team or on a tournament. Gurkirat Singh Gill, a sports analyst said that there are many factors that come into play as far as viewership is concerned. He explained: “I think the BCCI is responsible for women’s games not getting as many eyeballs as it should. For instance, last year when the women’s team (India) was playing with the South African team, both the ODIs and the T20s, on a couple of days their matches clashed with

the games of the Indian men’s team. Male cricketers are fortunately or unfortunately the bigger stars.” He further said that the media is also partly responsible for not broadcasting women’s matches. Gill added that the possible solution to widen the scope of viewership is by having an “honest intent and effort towards these matches to generate revenue from them.” The Board must also ensure that enough money is pumped into the sport so that players don’t have to worry about funding. He also thinks that there is inadequate promotion of women’s games. Clearly, there is inadequate effort on the part of both the authorities and the audiences to give women players a chance to showcase their talent. Getting into the business of sports is already challenging enough for women players as they have to surmount several taboos both at home and outside. It is vital that our players are given the attention they deserve to prove themselves and break the stranglehold men have on not cricket, but sport in general. Let there be more Jhulan Goswamis and Mithali Rajs. 19

CITY

An ‘angadi’ with snacks and history By Shristi Achar A

Credit: Shristi Achar A

andhi Bazaar isn’t as noisy as a market place normally is. It is not just a building or a few shops on a street. Gandhi Bazaar in South Bengaluru is an entire locality, complete with a main street, lanes and bylanes of standalone shops and residences. From North Road to Netkalappa Circle and K R Road to Bull Temple Road, it is a maze of small and medium businesses that still carry the characteristics of old world Bengaluru. Among the many old stores in this maze is Subbammana Angadi (Subbamma’s store). Though the signboard outside it says ‘Srinivas Condiment Stores’, everybody calls it Subbammana Angadi. At any point of the day, at least ten people can be seen swarming the place. Such is its popularity. The shop is a standing result of robust female entrepreneurship. Started in 1947, the shop was opened by Subbamma, a widow who came to the city after her husband’s demise. Subbamma settled with her three children in Basavanagudi, where Gandhi Bazaar is located. Apparently, it was the local snack hurigaalu (mixed fried pulses) that shot 20

her to fame. She was even nicknamed ‘Hurigaalu Subbamma.’ What started as a door-to-door sales enterprise, with Subbamma selling her masala packets and snacks, culminated in the shop, a space rented to her by an advocate named Lakshmi Narasu. The eats available at the store are a staple of most Kannadiga homes. From cooking aids like chutney pudi (chutney powder) and saaru pudi (rasam powder) to snacks like hurigaalu, nippattu and kodubale (spiced ring murruku), the eats found in the place carry her flavours that have only grown popular with time. “We easily sell 10 to 12 kilograms of our masala powders every day. And the snacks finish within a day or two of making,” said the storekeeper. Close to 200 different items are sold at the store. While the shop has its regular clientele, it holds a particular reputation amongst the youngsters of the city. For Charan, a recent migrant from Chikmangalur and an IT engineer who cannot cook, the store is a life-saver. “I don’t live too far from here, so it is convenient to get all the ingredients and snacks I need. They are actually freshly made too, so it

is really helpful. The taste is like the food I get at home, unlike the packet powders in the market,” he said. The ease of cooking alone doesn’t draw youngsters to the shop. Talking about a peculiarly named snack ‘Computer kodbale,’ the shopkeeper told the story behind it: “It is just regular kodbale…but most of these software engineers who work for long hours started telling us what an easy snack item it is to consume when they work. So we changed the name around 12 years ago or so and named it computer kodbale.” The name game doesn’t stop just there. Another popular snack in the shop is ‘Congress kadale’. While the name’s origin is disputed, the popular story is that the masala-roasted split nut was named after the Indian National Congress split in the late 1960s. The Congress party had split into two, INC (R) and INC (O), under Indira Gandhi and K Kamaraj respectively. Presently run by Subbamma’s grandsons, K V Anantha Rao and K V Ramachnadra, the shop offers snacks complete with the flavour of a bygone Bengaluru.

FASHION

Once-exclusive fashion is on everyone’s fingertips By Kashish Sharma

bout fifteen years ago, fashion summits like Met Gala and Cannes were exclusive and almost secret affairs. Only the top 10 attires that made a splash would find space in the back pages of magazine supplements. Only the few fashion enthusiasts would have taken the pain to unravel the fashion gems that made a mark. Social media has changed all that. Fourteen-year-old Nishika Chandok, who studies in a missionary school in Delhi, calls herself a fashion enthusiast. The teenager can fascinate the listener with the details she can share about the gala, from the kinds of dresses celebrities wore to intricate details like the theme and the design that goes behind a dress. Nishika’s primary source of information is Instagram through which she gathers most of the information. Nishika follows Kylie Jenner on Twitter and Instagram. She knows not just about the colour and design of the white-veiled gown Jenner wore for the Gala but also about Jenner’s personal story that goes behind wearing the dress. “Kylie carries us, her fans through the process. From makeup to getting into the attire to walking the red carpet, it feels I am with Jenner all this time. She is either streaming live or she keeps on creating content for her fans. I know why she wore the white dress as it was going well with the theme of the year that is ‘gilded glamour’ but she also wore it for her friend Virgil with whom she was supposed to visit Gala before it got postponed in the year 2020,” says the excited teenager. Nishika also knows that Blake

Lively’s dichromatic gown is a homage to the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State building in America. “The golden part of it was a homage to the State building and the blue part of it symbolized the Statue of Liberty,” said Nishika. She further goes on to share details on how the dress changed colours on the red carpet and also narrates Lively’s husband’s reaction to his wife’s attire changing colours.

Kardashian wore the Marilyn Monroe dress that the late actress had worn while singing ‘Happy birthday to Mr President’ to John F Kennedy, in 1962.Tanya had first seen some fleeting images of the dresses on Instagram and had then flocked to YouTube to get a more detailed view of the fashion summit. Preeti Arora, a teacher and a mother of two, from Agra says, “Well, I don’t know much about the theme and what the fashion meet is about but I know that all these celebrities wear some weird dresses that are very abstract and I am curious to see them in those dresses.” Vinaya K, who is a journalism student in IIJNM (Indian Institute of Journalism and New Media) says that since she has graduated in history, how Met Gala, Cannes and other fashion events have evolved over time, interests her. “For me fashion has been a form of art. It really pisses me off to see that this exclusive work of art was once accessible to only a few. “

Blake Lively at Met Gala 2022| Courtesy: Just Jared

Tanya Maheshwari, an English postgraduate student, in Bangalore University feels strongly about the dress Kim Kardashian wore for the Gala. She goes on to criticize the manner in which Kardashian lost weight to get fit into the dress. “She lost 16 pounds in three weeks just to fit into the original Marilyn Monroe’s exclusive gown that couldn’t be altered. She must have starved herself and this was not a cool thing to boost about,” says Maheshwari.

Kumar Karun, who works in a marketing firm says that being a sportsperson, he is never interested in fashion but algorithms dictate what dominates one’s social media feed. “I am not on Instagram but even on YouTube, even without searching for it, I know about the Met Gala and who wore what. It is no longer in our control what we get to watch on social media,” says Karun. Met Gala, also called the ‘fashion’s biggest night out’ is a fundraising event for the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute, New York. The event welcomes stars and young creative corners of the world. 21

PERSONAL HISTORY

Childhood – gloriously found and tragically lost Growing up takes away the fun in everything says Vinaya K.

hen you are a kid, you feel life as you know it is the only kind of life out there. You feel safe and content. I think what we lose when we grow up is that sense of security, belongingness, and permanence. The feeling of inadequacy comes only when one becomes an adult. There were days I spent chasing butterflies in my garden, and days when I sat and watched the rain. The days when one enjoys existence just for the sake of it. But as they say, growing up takes away the fun in everything, it is a painful process of reluctantly participating in societal and economic roles. If one’s actions do not have a monetary side to them, it’s deemed unproductive, you are accused of wasting your life. Whether it is a career or marriage, as an adult you have to get into an economic agreement. When I think about the first eleven years of my life, it feels like a long,

Courtesy : Pexels 22

uninterrupted meditation, the highlight of which was the luxury of sitting idly. I grew up in a small village in Kerala, without the burden of private tuition or extra classes. Days were long and time was plenty. As I grew up, I noticed that life was becoming a mere exercise of undertaking tasks. Meeting deadlines, finishing assignments, binge-watching everything is mechanical. Karl Marx writes about alienation as an important consequence of living under capitalism - alienation from nature and alienation from ourselves included. In that sense, childhood was the most liberated I have ever felt in my life. Now, life as a fresh graduate amidst a global pandemic and climate crisis is nothing short of chaos. It is scary how our lives can change so quickly – for better or worse. Even if it changes for the better, you still live with a void in your heart. I think it happens to every adult as if they have lost a piece of themselves

somewhere. If you think about it long enough you will cry. I still don’t understand whether I have grown up to be more myself or whether growing up was that painful journey of abandoning myself and becoming the one the world told me to be. Does growing up make any sense to anybody at all? We are here and just awkwardly standing in a corner because we don’t have many options. Whenever someone asks me what I want to do in life I think and the answer that comes out is ‘I want to get a job’ or ‘travel the world’. But I don’t truly want that. All I want life to be is, how it used to be. Living forever in perfect rainy days. As Pablo Neruda wrote, I want to open my eyes to “Life, the land, poetry, and the rain”. I can’t stand change and I can’t stand nostalgia. I have lived in limbo the past decade, the in-between where life has either already happened or is going to happen.