amitdahiya
April 6th, 2004, 02:55 PM
Dear All,
Jatlanders have delivered so much intellectual energy towards making this a successful effort that I wonder why the young Jat women have failed to make a single contribution on that topic.
Could it be that they dont relate to the Mission for the Jat community, perhaps they think of it as an exclusive male preserve which I assure you it is not.
Could it be that the issues of development are hard for Jat women intelligentsia to thing about. Or is it that when it comes to really important issues even our educated young women quickly revert to a female stereotype in which they are neither to be seen nor heard.
Wake up sister something may be burning on the fire but there is another fire and what may be burning there is your future and change is around the corner- It waits for you. Please post your comments thoughts and ideas on the Mission Statement, after all you are more than half our energy.
Amit
If you need inspiration just contemplate this example of an extraordinary woman who was bold, beautiful, completely illiterate and still a dynamic agent of change.
Jugaad & The grand agent of change.
___________________________________
(A fable of inspiration for the kaum an extract from The Mustard Memories
People who believe that women have a raw deal have never heard of Haryana, the Jat clan of warrior farmers or my grand mother Har Kaur At the age of 91 years she said to my mother"
“Daughter Sarla I wonder what I shall do when I get old? “
'Well to begin with you could plan to attend all our funerals" I offered and for this offering of ready wit at the age of 11, I received two whacks of a fine silver headed cane and a richly laughter laced hug."
We Jats are known for our prowess on the battle field and so it was that an uncle of mine returned from peace keeping duties in Africa. He came to the village to leave many mysterious cartons for safekeeping during his posting to a non-family station. While departing my Uncle did something very curious. He warned us in a strict soldiering tone not to touch any of the cartons. Since my curiosity was already the stuff of legends he gave me a particularly long hard look before leaving.
It is true we Jats are nothing if not a curious people and his admonishment was as a bright red flag to a fighting bull. And so it was that his words had the exact opposite effect he had intended.
The next one week our home was a carnival of curiosity. AII day long we opened his cartons carefully and had a wonderful time touching, guessing the purpose and admiring the contents of all the wonderful packages, save one ..which threatened to defy and defeat our collective curiosity.
It was a fairly large electro mechanical device and it would certainly have defeated us if I had not found a small booklet at the bottom of the carton one night shortly before going up to my bed.
Promising my grand mother that I would discover the true purpose of the mystery machine that night, I went to sleep after almost an hour of going through the booklet which was written in the strange English language but fortunately it was profusely illustrated.
The nicest sound in the universe is the collective laughter of the women of your family and so it was that I was woken next morning. Stepping out onto the terrace I found peals of laughter coming up from a crowd of women surrounding my grand mother who was supervising the Emptying of huge earthen pots of curds or yogurt into the top of the mystery machine which had been connected to the electric mains and was running briskly. The peals of laughter rose again when a huge football of freshly churned butter was extracted from the machine and a conveniently located tap at the bottom discharged two buckets of skimmed buttermilk. The machine was doing two hours of tedious manual work in just eight minutes. And the wonder of the moment had me tongue tied in amazement for at least two cycles of butter churning before I was able to find my voice and yell out a warning "Hey are you mad? You can't do that! It's a clothes washing machine, I found out from the book last night! My uncle will kill me!" This statement of mine put something of a damper on the festivities and a hush came upon the crowd. But that was
just for a moment, as ever my grand mother had the last word.
" Dont be a fool boy! Anyone can see it's a giant butter-churning machine. Look!" And just then another football of butter emerged to renewed peals of laughter. The beauty of that moment may be hard to describe but it is perfectly etched upon my memory. Every woman in the neighbourhood was throwing aside the shackles of a back breaking daily task and returning home 'with not just butter and buttermilk but also a gift from my grand mother of two hours of quality time to spend on themselves for the rest of their lives. History should record that it was my grand mother Harkaur who reinvented the purpose of tne badly named washing machine and also invented Womens lib in the first place, long before the bra burning feminists of the west.
It is my secret belief that at this very same moment God is watching open mouthed as my grandmother is still at it in heaven, reinventing a new purpose for his plans to the pealing laughter of angels.
________________________________
One of the greatest strengths of the Kaum is Jugaad or the ability to improvise. Our greatest reserve of this creative force lies not in the smoking drinking bull shitting men folk but in out treasure trove of the most extraordinary women on the earth the Jat 'Beerbanis' and young 'Beeras'
Jatlanders have delivered so much intellectual energy towards making this a successful effort that I wonder why the young Jat women have failed to make a single contribution on that topic.
Could it be that they dont relate to the Mission for the Jat community, perhaps they think of it as an exclusive male preserve which I assure you it is not.
Could it be that the issues of development are hard for Jat women intelligentsia to thing about. Or is it that when it comes to really important issues even our educated young women quickly revert to a female stereotype in which they are neither to be seen nor heard.
Wake up sister something may be burning on the fire but there is another fire and what may be burning there is your future and change is around the corner- It waits for you. Please post your comments thoughts and ideas on the Mission Statement, after all you are more than half our energy.
Amit
If you need inspiration just contemplate this example of an extraordinary woman who was bold, beautiful, completely illiterate and still a dynamic agent of change.
Jugaad & The grand agent of change.
___________________________________
(A fable of inspiration for the kaum an extract from The Mustard Memories
People who believe that women have a raw deal have never heard of Haryana, the Jat clan of warrior farmers or my grand mother Har Kaur At the age of 91 years she said to my mother"
“Daughter Sarla I wonder what I shall do when I get old? “
'Well to begin with you could plan to attend all our funerals" I offered and for this offering of ready wit at the age of 11, I received two whacks of a fine silver headed cane and a richly laughter laced hug."
We Jats are known for our prowess on the battle field and so it was that an uncle of mine returned from peace keeping duties in Africa. He came to the village to leave many mysterious cartons for safekeeping during his posting to a non-family station. While departing my Uncle did something very curious. He warned us in a strict soldiering tone not to touch any of the cartons. Since my curiosity was already the stuff of legends he gave me a particularly long hard look before leaving.
It is true we Jats are nothing if not a curious people and his admonishment was as a bright red flag to a fighting bull. And so it was that his words had the exact opposite effect he had intended.
The next one week our home was a carnival of curiosity. AII day long we opened his cartons carefully and had a wonderful time touching, guessing the purpose and admiring the contents of all the wonderful packages, save one ..which threatened to defy and defeat our collective curiosity.
It was a fairly large electro mechanical device and it would certainly have defeated us if I had not found a small booklet at the bottom of the carton one night shortly before going up to my bed.
Promising my grand mother that I would discover the true purpose of the mystery machine that night, I went to sleep after almost an hour of going through the booklet which was written in the strange English language but fortunately it was profusely illustrated.
The nicest sound in the universe is the collective laughter of the women of your family and so it was that I was woken next morning. Stepping out onto the terrace I found peals of laughter coming up from a crowd of women surrounding my grand mother who was supervising the Emptying of huge earthen pots of curds or yogurt into the top of the mystery machine which had been connected to the electric mains and was running briskly. The peals of laughter rose again when a huge football of freshly churned butter was extracted from the machine and a conveniently located tap at the bottom discharged two buckets of skimmed buttermilk. The machine was doing two hours of tedious manual work in just eight minutes. And the wonder of the moment had me tongue tied in amazement for at least two cycles of butter churning before I was able to find my voice and yell out a warning "Hey are you mad? You can't do that! It's a clothes washing machine, I found out from the book last night! My uncle will kill me!" This statement of mine put something of a damper on the festivities and a hush came upon the crowd. But that was
just for a moment, as ever my grand mother had the last word.
" Dont be a fool boy! Anyone can see it's a giant butter-churning machine. Look!" And just then another football of butter emerged to renewed peals of laughter. The beauty of that moment may be hard to describe but it is perfectly etched upon my memory. Every woman in the neighbourhood was throwing aside the shackles of a back breaking daily task and returning home 'with not just butter and buttermilk but also a gift from my grand mother of two hours of quality time to spend on themselves for the rest of their lives. History should record that it was my grand mother Harkaur who reinvented the purpose of tne badly named washing machine and also invented Womens lib in the first place, long before the bra burning feminists of the west.
It is my secret belief that at this very same moment God is watching open mouthed as my grandmother is still at it in heaven, reinventing a new purpose for his plans to the pealing laughter of angels.
________________________________
One of the greatest strengths of the Kaum is Jugaad or the ability to improvise. Our greatest reserve of this creative force lies not in the smoking drinking bull shitting men folk but in out treasure trove of the most extraordinary women on the earth the Jat 'Beerbanis' and young 'Beeras'