Women within Men
‘He’ was just another boy out there. He hailed from the land of Tagore. Tagore did I say? Just like the boy ‘Aashu’ in the short story ‘Ginni’, written by Tagore, ‘he’ too was a studious wallflower. Both ‘Aashu’ and ‘he’ shared more or less the same story in their childhood cause this fever of stereotyping male species never really stops generations after generations.
The story begins with Anavil, a student reading in class VIII of an esteemed school in the city of Udaipur, far into the west of India. Life was good for Anavil. His time flew by getting immersed in studying, reading books, listening to soft rock and classical piano music. He had a few friends but was happy about his life. Life was flowing like the Ganga in the plainlands until one day he found few of the students of his class behaving a bit unusual about Janardan, a differently abled classmate. They seemed to bully him and he too was behaving unusual. It looked like he was acting like a fish lying on the school ground staining his shirt, and was poked when he refused to act like a fish. Having no other way, terrified, he continued to do so, while crying profusely. Anavil was watching from a distance. An otherwise ‘ahimsa’ guy, he felt angry like never before. His adrenaline was rushing and his eyes were burning. He didn’t know whether he was right or wrong but he knew this clear as water: he wanted to confront the boys and rescue Janardan who had profound fear in his eyes by then. He raced towards Janardan and found 2–3 people around him. He was able to hear them; they were abusing him with filthy words and kicking him occasionally.
“HEY!!!”, Anavil roared.
The boys looked at him, startled, showing that they never expected to be confronted. Anavil continued roaring, “BUNCH OF ANIMALS! HOW DARE YOU BULLY HIM!!!”. He expected a fight, but due to Anavil’s reputation as one of the most disciplined and studious boys, they probably didn’t have the guts to hurt him. Two of them walked away slowly, want of revenge getting expressed through their glare. The last one hissed, “You don’t know who you have messed with”, “A moron showing off his muscle power I guess”, Anavil barked with piercing and blazing eyes. He looked at Janardan, there was a sign of gratefulness in his eyes.
“Mum’s gonna beat the hell out of me today”, Janardan stuttered looking at his uniform.
“They broke my specs too and threatened to do the same with me, if I didn’t obey them. But why did you argue with them? They’re not going to spare you now.”.
“Let’s see what they do, anyways those dimwits won’t have the guts of breaking my bones I guess.”, grinned Anavil, finally feeling the rage starting to get down him.
Janardan kept on looking with a wistful smile. They knew, they already were best friends.
As far as human relations are concerned, perhaps the deepest relationships take shapes all of a sudden in the midst of storms.
It was lunch break when all of this happened. After they were back in the class, Anavil heard somebody shouting, “Aunty!”. He didn’t pay much attention. Then this repeated three times in a row and captured much of Anavil’s attention who was waiting for the teacher to come to the class. He looked back and saw the same three boys give an evil-smile while looking at each other after giving an acid look to him. Their strategy was clear to Anavil now. They would be calling him names. He was about to turn away when they said, “So that’s Janardan’s new mamma now! And that’s why let’s call ‘her’ aunt!”, another said.
“But how can he be a mom, he is a boy! I think he is one of those ‘trans’ people!” and then had a great deal of laugh between themselves. Anavil was feeling helpless.
A couple of days passed by. Including his closest friends, more than half of the class had started to call him “Aunty” and the rest smirked, except Janardan. He blamed himself each day but Anavil comforted him. Anavil continued to remain passive and never confronted them. He talked with his parents and they made it clear that it was his fight and that they would be supporting him throughout.
It was lunch break again. Anavil was moving towards the school ground. He was feeling hopeless. Situations had worsened and whoever looked at him now passed derogatory comments on him. Though little did he know of what was going to happen. He saw a similar sight. Janardan was cornered by the same boys and a few more this time. It was happening in the empty corridor. They were beating him ruthlessly and he was uselessly trying to shield himself with bare hands. Anavil bursted into tears. His helplessness was out of the world, he stared at the grass can’t bearing the torture.
Then something happened. He heard a scream. Janardan was fighting valiantly. 2 of them were hurt and fell. His nose bleeding, Janardan flung his hand like mad, injuring others. An image of the angry mother goddess was painted across his mind and remembered how fierce a warrior she was when her children were vulnerable. With more speed than Anavil was able to run ever after that, he ran towards Janardan, punching a boy who was about to hit Janardan’s head with a stick. They were taken by surprise to find the teachers coming towards them.
Aftermath of this incident was suspension of the boys beating Janardan. All of a sudden Anavil was the cynosure of the school.
When Janardan and Anavil were getting first aid, Anavil asked, “All of a sudden how did you manage to beat them?”
“When I saw you in tears, I do not know why, but I felt I had no other option but to fight them. But why were you so eager to save me by precisely confronting them? In the first day itself you could’ve complained to the teacher. Why didn’t you do that?”.
“If I would’ve complained to the teacher, fear of her would’ve resisted them from bullying you. But when YOU confronted them today, they understood that they can’t hurt you any longer and get away so easily.” Anavil replied.
“You felt just like a mother feels, isn’t it? A mother lion? Preparing the cubs to fight the foes and fighting for them when they make an effort to do that themselves? You know what, just like me you are a boy, but you’re like a good mother too.”
Both looked each other in their eyes, understanding how invaluable was their newly gained realisation, which even adults fail to feel. We tend to mark off gentle people as feminine, but the truth is that, the world will be a war ground without gentleness and that the motherhood is always an essential ingredient in a gentleman’s character.
“Cause that’s an emotion ‘son’”, Anavil smiled warmly, “Too big to be limited just to a single gender.”
They were in a tight hug.
