Perspective
Milling
around with Men, Or Women Everywhere
Mustafa
Zaman
At mid
noon, in the glare of the blazing sun, two women day-labourers
are hiding their heads under the sewage pipes that await installation.
They have been digging a canal on the roadside along with
other male day-labourers since morning. With the women resting
few feet away, the men's friendly banter remains just that,
their conversation hovers at a fairly human level. Man, especially
the working men, behave badly out in the streets. And even
in their all-male work environments they often reveal a sinister
ability to inject their mundane utterances with an unhealthy
dose of obscenity. When women are not around the limit is
certainly sky high.
A
drive around the city in a mini bus, the worst possible assemblage
of worn steel, shrunken yet often awkwardly cushioned seats
that runs on four wheels, would take you to the two of the
danger zones of the city, one at Gabtoli and the other at
Saidabad. The all male contingent in these hot spots among
many others are usually made of ticket blackers, drivers,
helpers or even mastans --- the henchmen of the local MPs.
They all have the time of their lives jibing at each other,
cracking jokes at every passing thing. Perhaps these are their
arenas to test their verbal might, perhaps in the domestic
settings the art of exercising their tongues is stifled. In
their liberated conditions they loosen up, and the consequences
are always devastating. Any man with a virgin ear is bound
to have a heart attack or two after lending his ears to conversation
that goes inside a Gabtoli carom-board ghar, or even
at a tea stall. These are the places where words are pickled
in ribald expressions and are shot from mouths with the intention
to do away with your hearing ability, and sometimes even with
your life.
From a
liberal standpoint, one can condone the acts of murdering
each other with words, but what if there is more to it than
just plain 'speech therapy', through which you gets to empty
the dross that gathers under your male gut. But, what if that
gut is full to the brim with dross alone. What do you do with
it? You first try to hoot at every woman as they walk past
you, then, in all probability, go to such length as to prove
your maleness in an intellectually challenged way, you attack
and ravish women. Certainly there are more male with a lewd
tongue than with such misogynist intentions. Yet it is interesting
to notice how the male bonding often develops around a mutual
interest in talking dirty. Lewd talks even creeps into the
most tastefully decorated drawing rooms where men take leave
from their usual selves to bathe in the glory of dirt. The
point, however, is not verbal volley, the point is that the
presence of women changes the whole scenario, it forces men
to mallow.
Put a
woman, if you are able to, among the young men engrossed both
in talking dirty and determined to score with his striker
in a game of karom at Gabtoli, the men would start to behave.
The caring and the wiser males of our time say, as did Anisul
Haq, few days back, on TV, that it is the male ego that springs
to action and forces all men to do all the cruel things. There
is cruelty in human nature; it is the social environment that
helps to fight against it.
At
around nine thirty in the evening, on a street corner in Kalyanpur,
a young boy of sixteen is selling kalo jaam (black
currant). A middle-aged woman along with few other men are
standing by. They are all from the same slum. As the boy waits
for his last remaining small heap of Jaam to be sold
off, the rest are here to while away the time. A man walks
in and makes an effort to examine the boy's heap of jaam
before deciding to buy, at this point the middle-aged women
mediates of her own accord, she says, "This is the best
you can get in Dhaka, the boy has sold most of it." The
customer buys a small portion and asks the lady whether she
was the mother of the boy and was here to look over his business.
The woman replies in the negative, and lets him know that
she was a neighbour. Perhaps the striking resemblance in look
between the woman and the boy fooled the man, but their bond
is something that makes societies retain a humane face. It
is a pity that this fact eludes a lot of men.
Copyright (R)
thedailystar.net 2004
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