In Camera

Years ago, in post-World War II France, existentialist playwright Jean Paul Sartre shook the intellectual world with his play called "Huis clos". About a decade ago, I was given the daunting task of teaching this masterpiece to a mini group of very intellectually alert students of 'Diplôme Supérieur' - a course that I was then teaching at the Alliance Française de Kolkata. I did teach the course to the best of my ability after painstakingly researching everything there was to research about it and its author.But I continued to be intrigued by the fact that the title of the book somehow became "In Camera" (a legal term, meaning a discussion behind closed doors) in its American version, I could never figure out why this name haunted me and disturbed me profoundly . In the over-anxious effort of doing my 'job' well (and this continues to be an ongoing obsession) I missed out one vital thing : I did not relate it to life and therefore did not quite understand then, the implications of the  American name "In Camera".

The plot of the play , in brief, is a depiction of the afterlife in which three deceased characters, Garcin, Inès and Estelle,  are punished by being locked into a room together for eternity. These three damned souls are thrown together in a supposed 'hell' and each is in denial of ever having committed a crime. They had all expected medieval torture devices to punish them for eternity, but instead find a plain room furnished in Second French Empire style. None of them will admit the reason for their damnation: Garcin says that he was executed for being a pacifist, while Estelle insists that a mistake has been made. Inès, however, demands that they all stop lying to themselves and confess to their crimes. She refuses to believe that they all ended up in the room by accident and soon realizes that they have been placed together to make each other miserable. [Plot synopsis: courtesy Wikipedia]

Then Life happened to me as it does to some people. I say some people, and not everybody, for a reason. In my view most people go through life as if on a journey, collecting tags on the suitcase [name, education, profession, marital status, accomplishment and so on] on the way. Very few, the 'some people' I referred to, are the chosen few who look behind the curtains into the dark room to come face to face with the horrors that you do not want to acknowledge even exist. The agony of looking deep into the abyss happens due to what I now call perspective, for want of a more appropriate word. This agony, as I now figure, was the central theme of Sartre's play "In Camera" that deluded me in my youth.

Perspective is defined as a mental view or outlook. Your perspective is influenced by so much and luckily is not set in stone. Your life experiences, your learning journey, the people you meet, culture, geographic location and the language you speak contribute to your current perspective. It's like looking through a lens, that of a camera, the one that is in your hands as a composite factor of all of these experiences that have shaped your perspective.

My own perspective  was predetermined by world history as well as my family’s personal history. It has been molded since then by living amongst different communities,  speaking four languages and by traveling to the extent that I did. As you go through life, you begin to have a worldview. You mistake your version of reality for THE version of reality. Each of us has a biased worldview because we are all limited to a single camera perspective. That is we can only see what comes before us, we can only hear what is around us, and we can only read that which is in front of us. No one has the definitive version of reality. The clash of perspectives happens when there are "others" participating in the same situations that you are a part of.

I look at people and am reminded of the metaphor of an iceberg in relationship to culture. Only 10% of their cultural being is visible to me above the water surface. The way they dress, the way they speak, their food they eat, games they play, their literature, traditions and celebrations. 90% of who they are is below the surface: the concept of time, their relationship to death, their rules of conduct, personal space, tolerance of physical pain, roles in relationship to age, class, sex and kinship. People and cultures that are so different from my own have taught me, if anything, to know that nothing is set in stone. Any “truth” you hold dear, opinion, conviction which is shared with everyone around you in your geographic location can make you an instant outsider when in another place or simply among a different group of people. 

                                                                 


If, on the other hand, you put culture aside, and think only in terms of the 'being', even then every other 'being' is an outsider looking at you through the lens of her/his camera and therefore silently judging you or compelling you to judge yourself. This silent game of guilt, judgement, punishment and retribution goes on relentlessly. As humans we are social beings, but as Sartre showed more than half a century ago, as long as we remain "In Camera" there is no need to be banished to a geography called 'hell', we are carrying our 'hell' around us, right in the here and now. Incidentally the other versions of Sartre's masterpiece have also been called No Exit  and Dead End.

What's for dinner?

It was  8.30 p.m. in the evening and my husband had come to pick me up from office. He had taken an early evening off, been home to freshen up, taken our daughter out for ice-cream. Then the two were there for me at the appointed time.

So far so good...

The moment I entered the car the first question hurled at me was, "Ma, what's for dinner?” by my daughter, of course, and I also caught a glimpse of my husband's head tilting expectantly towards me. I had had an especially strenuous day at work and my instant reaction was irritation at having no answer ready for that question and yet being compelled to answer it. I charged back asking why I was being asked that question even though her 'Dad' had been home before me and had had time to plan something, which of course he hadn't. She was genuinely surprised at my reaction, and simply said, “because we always ask you." I was ashamed of my behavior, but too stressed to apologize. An awkward silence prevailed after that, to be dispelled by my husband proposing that we eat out.

If you come to think of it, this is one of those questions that many women have been answering across cultures and across generations. They have never wondered as to why they have to have an answer. Perhaps it is only of late that some of us have begun to question the legitimacy of that question as we have gone out of our hearths and carved our own niches in the world outside as professionals in different fields. We have begun asking why, the man of the house seldom, if ever, has to worry about planning and executing meals, let alone having to answer that question.

It would be presumptuous to assume that all men enjoy this ‘peripheral status’ where decision-making rights regarding planning and executing meals is concerned although I am pretty sure most do. What about women? Do women resent the fact that they have to answer the ‘what’s for dinner’ question almost every day? Again it would be presumptuous to assume so. Would I cause outrage if I said that women on the one hand enjoy having the exclusive rights to answer that question, and on the other hand, fake resentment to use for their feminist agendas as and when it suits them? There is a poll alongside this article to gauge the most probable answer to that quesion.

I, for one, love the feeling of being cared for if I am reassured by my partner that dinner would be his responsibility on a certain hectic day. I am blissful at the thought of returning to a warm meal that I have neither had to plan, nor execute. BUT, this positive feeling turns into one of  threat if it continues for as short a period as three consecutive evenings. Understandably, the male in the equation cannot fathom this! He exclaims “You women… are a mystery”

What is this power-equation that women associate with the whole food affair? Where does it come from? What is its history?

Talking about history, I am reminded about a scene in a popular Hindi film released last year apparently based on the story of Emperor Akbar and his favorite queen Jodha. When challenged by a certain senior member of her in-law family about her place in the royal kitchen, the newly wedded queen takes a stand by stating that it is the prerogative of every married woman (“har vivahit stree ka adhikar hai yeh”).
At this point in the movie, I could see that the director had touched a chord in the heart of the vast majority of the women in the audience. What I was horrified at was the fact that I found myself reacting in almost the same way as all the other women, i.e., agreeing tacitly to that claim of prerogative. Why should such a prerogative matter to me, an educated woman of the twenty-first century who has discovered other playing fields?!

The answer probably is that when poised against the collective history of a society, of civilization, the journey of the individual pales into insignificance. One stimulus is all that is required for you to plug into the persona of the archetypal woman who feels empowered by virtue of the sway she holds in the kitchen.

If I look back at my own history, I am reminded of a small but significant incident. It was my first visit to my then would-be in-laws’. The day was that of 'Saraswati puja’. A short while after the first awkward moments of preliminary introductions, my boyfriend’s mother offered to let me help with the cooking. I was thrilled and touched to the core by her generosity and inclusiveness! She asked me if I could knead the dough for puris. I of course said an instantaneous yes and plunged in headlong, silk sari et al, into an extra-large casserole of flour. Being motherless from a young age, I was over anxious to prove my skills that I had learnt on my own. But sometimes proving that you have skills can be a BIG MISTAKE. That one incident revealed to her my weakness. In later years, whenever she wanted to reward me she gave me access to the kitchen, and withheld that access whenever I was refusing to tow the line.

The point I am trying to make is this: the reconciliation between being accomplished in your professional life and holding on to age-old fears and archetypes, has to begin at some point. It has to happen out of willingness, not coercion. So, to all the ladies, answer these ‘why’s in your minds:

      Why, despite our qualifications and accolades, do we try to prove that we can cook and house-keep well?

      Why do we so often utter the sentence ‘get out of my kitchen’ when the men venture in?

      Why do we feel threatened when they are equally capable of planning and executing meals/ organising events?

      Why do we like being called "Minister of Home Affairs" or “Supreme Court”?

      Why do we women cry ourselves hoarse about gender-equality in workplaces while at the same time holding on to our so called ‘prerogatives’ at home?

      Why do we then resent it if they feel threatened by our skills and competences at the work place?

Turnabout is fair-play, don't you think ladies, and wouldn't you like that gentlemen?

How many of you think that women need to let go of their own insecurities first before they can expect the men to follow suit?  Cast your vote, we will know.

RESULTS OF THE POLL: -
-What is a woman likely to feel if she is not consulted in planning a dinner being hosted on an important occasion? [ Thrilled-0%, Relieved-20%, Angry-60%,Slighted-20%]
-Are girls and boys groomed differently by parents according to accepted societal norms?
[No-0%, Yes, but only in India-0%, Yes-40%, Maybe, but not in my household-60%]
-Does a woman resent better house-keepimg skills from the spouse?
[Most definitely-0%, Probably-20%, Depends on which generation she belongs to-40%, Not at all-40%]
-How often does a man deliberately let a woman feel in control at home to maintain peace?
[Always-0%, Sometimes-40%, Most of the time-60%, Never-0%]

A warm 'thank you' to all those who cast their votes.