An independent woman is still a woman...

There's a thought that has been nagging me for a very long time. Does being independent women automatically equal to "neutral" gender for men? I mean, I have met some really nice men in my life who have tried to woo me, impress me, catch my eye and eventually all of them tried to "tame" me. Why is that once romance colours the friendship, most of men are suddenly insecure with the way a woman is and how she will run his household, more importantly, what if she has an opinion different from his? I know from experience that there are men there who respect independent women and still treat those women as women but that is not the case most often.

Most men employ either of two viewpoints. If she is fiercely independent, she is buddy who will take care of herself and release them from the expected gentlemanly behaviour OR she has to learn to be behave a woman, which usually means that she has to seem a bit helpless and therefore make them feel more masculine.

I see the difference in the way I am treated versus some of my other female friends who so easily manipulate men into doing things for them. Doors are opened for them, their tantrums tolerated, their wish is the command for the men in their lives and these, by the way, are smart, articulate women who make smart decisions in their offices. For some reason, I find myself opening my own doors.

Is our society such that it will not accept women unless they play a certain role. And those who do not comply by these rules are forced into situations whether either have to comply or bear the alternate treatment. 

Part of the problem seems to be that we have no fixed idea of what equality really means. So while men complain that women were fighting for independence still seek to be treated in a society approved manner, there are women like me who are wondering why equality means that you have to be gender neutral. 

I think it's time we talked to our sons to be more sensitive and daughters to be strong and hope that they find the middle ground where they do not confuse equality with a certain behaviour alone.

It's not just a 'job'!

I trained some newbies today (it's called "knowledge-sharing" in my office)! The last time I trained anyone was in my previous job four years ago. I almost felt nervous today. Especially since I was training them on how to use Microsoft Outlook in the most efficient manner. The challenge was to introduce them to things that would make their work and scheduling easier but without complicating it or by over simplifying it. It's a balancing act and I thankfully managed to teach a few very effective mail management tricks that even their HOD did not know (Yay me!). 

If you are wondering why I was training others on Outlook when I am clearly an Editor, here's the thing. I'm not a desk Editor who works on manuscripts. My profile is an amalgam of business development manager and Managing Editor plus a generous helping of PR work. It's a job one trains by gathering experience. If you are nuts about the TV Show "Suits" like I am, think of what Mike Ross does. Qualification can get you started but you go places only by gathering experience by handling situations as they come. Wait, I'm digressing!  Back to the training.

Since my office has multiple teams handling different types and aspects of publishing we often have internal training sessions on systems that we are familiar with or on topics that we may have had prior knowledge about. So when last month an HOD asked me if I could introduce some new topic for our team. I could think of a zillion things I could enlighten them to...Cyber Law, Intellectual Property Rights and Copyright,  the art of negotiation, on effective communication perhaps? Then I curbed my enthusiasm. The training was meant to be short and sweet and not too complicated for the new joinees and it was to be covered in 30 minutes I was told. Forced to think in terms of their job profiles, I decided to train them on Microsoft Outlook. 

In the beginning of this week, the HOD approached me again. "Some team members are curious to know how your department works and your job profile. Do you mind sharing that at the end of the training?" I agreed. I mean, I knew it would have to be kept brief since most of the work I do is confidential, so how much time could I take up anyway?

I spent over an hour! One hour and ten minutes to be precise. Just talking about what is it that I do. Questions kept coming and I kept clarifying without giving confidential information. I talked and talked and talked and got seriously dehydrated. In fact, over 2 liters of water later, I'm still thirsty. 

Once we returned to our seats, I realized a few things:

(1). No matter what my designation and job profile says, it is complicated and the role is vast.

(2). I have learned so, so, much over the years. 

(3). I am passionate about what I do.

I think I just needed a reminder on why I love working here and why I return day-after-day fighting the horrid Delhi traffic for 3 hours each day.

 

Zen space and Facebook

Most of my friends who know that I work as an Editor in a company that publishes academic books and journals are always taken aback when they learn how quiet it is in the Editorial Department. The only sounds one hears usually are of typing on keyboards, sometimes a furious click of the mouse, and of someone trying to open their packet of biscuits or chips packets very gently just so it doesn't sound like an announcement. Cell phones are usually kept on silent not because it's a company policy but because it may disturb the others and desk phones are attended to very, very quickly. It is almost like the department is a pond where we work hard not to let ripples disturb us. A place where we come every morning and gently sink into our jobs. Happily, I add. Editors are usually the silence loving types anyway. It takes time for others to understand how a person like me who can barely sit still and who can get loud while talking, manages to work in a job that usually demands just the opposite on days I am not traveling on business or on endless phonecalls.

Friend: Your office is so quiet and so dull!

Me: Well, it is the Editorial department after all. We have researchers and Editors working on various projects that demands high level of concentration.

Friend: But it's so lifeless! How do you even sit at your desk day-after-day?

Me: I've started enjoying the peace.

Friend: But you are missing out on lively interactions that most "normal" offices have. There's chit-chatting, laughing, people sharing food and gossip.

Me: I did spend my initial months on the administration floor when the Editorial office was being renovated. It wasn't bad but then there is a major advantage of working in a quiet environment.

Friend: Really? Like what?

Me: If I am busy checking my Facebook page on a busy floor, I seem anti-social. On the quiet Editorial side of the office, I look busy and focused.

Friend: ....

Gadgets and pigtails

The day I updated my phone to iOS 7, I could barely keep my hands off my phone. There was (still is) a strange tickle of excitement that ran through me as I re-explored my phone and re-lived the day that I bought my first iPhone few years ago. The next morning, during my routine phone conversation with Dr. A, I kept shrieking and giggling.

“It’s fantastic!” I screamed, possibly scaring a few commuters in cars next to mine.

“Yup. I love the update.”

“Me too. I LOVE IT!!! In fact, I was turned on when I saw the new look.”

Dr. A laughed, “Turned on by iOS 7? Gosh! You are such a guy!”  

The minute he said that, I recalled an evening that the gang had come together to meet an old friend who was visiting Delhi. Rajat had moved to Dubai before we could become close friends and he was my lifeline during my month-long stay in Dubai. That's where we got seriously close. We have always had seriously crazy talks over the years.  I do not recall how or what made him say that but at one point during the evening, he turned to me and said, “You may wear eyeliners and lipsticks but you don’t fool me. You are a gay man inside.” That time his comment reminded me of a time when my sister during an emotional outburst years ago, shouted, “You are like a pesky brother! Not a loving, older sister like my friends have.” The outburst came because I had been keeping myself entertained that day by pulling her hair and running wildly around the house before she could fling anything heavy at me. Something that had always cheered me up until the day she scared me with all her crying.

It was while I was growing up that I discovered that I was good at troubleshooting the computer and our car without any training and that I also love make up and dressing up. And I am really good with gadgets. I mean like really, REALLY good with gadgets. I, in fact, absolutely love figuring out how any gadget works, its hidden functions and I like to think that I am one of those few sets of people who actually use their phone through and through. It’s reasonable to assume that if my kitchen and its contents were designed like a space craft, I would be joyfully cook all the time just to see the lights flash when I use the food processor or if my microwave talks to me. AND I would really like my refrigerator (or any gadget, really) to have intelligent conversation with.

Fridge: You look a little upset. Are you alright?

Me: I’m just a little tired. It was a long day at work.

Fridge: Ah! I can help you feel better! Your mother hid a red-velvet cake in my chill tray. It was meant to be a surprise for you but you need it now and I’m sure she’ll understand.

Me: I want to but she might get upset.

Fridge: Don’t worry. I’ll suggest she has the chocolates you brought from office yesterday. I know you don’t like chocolates so...what do you say?

Me: I love you *happy tears*

In the present times, my friend at work always brings Autocar magazines or Gadgets and Gizmos Magazines. She calls it my version of “porn.” She’s quite right. I drool over the pictures and I read each and every detail provided in the articles followed by searching online for more info on something that may have caught my fancy. And God alone knows how many mobiles I have repaired or fixed for my colleagues in every office I’ve worked in. My love for what is generally perceived as masculine interests has been like that for years. My straight guy group and I used to exchange information on what’s hot and what’s not in the car/bike/gadget world. With the gay guy gang, I seem to be the only ‘man’ though Dr.A does share my love for new software.

So needless to say, it makes me furious when a guy tries to gently “explain in simple terms” how something works (usually in shops selling electronics) or when a guy friend either refuses to let me drive his car or starts acting like he is going to die anytime when I give him a lift in my car. Yeah, sure I drive fast. Jokes have been made on how I went for my driving license and came back with a pilot license. But I have never, ever been involved in an accident or been a reason of someone else’s mishap (Touchwood!).

For most part, I made peace with the fact that I don’t look like a typical geek or a motor enthusiast and I definitely don't look like a man but on some days I wonder why people feel the need for stereotypes. I don’t need to be a guy or be “like a guy” for things that I have a natural inclination for! and the next person who says to me, “You don’t like chocolates? But girls loooove chocolates!” will be rewarded with my superbly placed taekwondo punch to his/her face. 

Who the hell decided that men and women need to act a certain way? I want to bitch slap that person.

Party-sharty

About 7 years ago when I met Dr.A, Adi and Abhay, we used to go clubbing almost every week and often in the middle of the week just 'cause we were 'bored.' My sis joined us crazies when she moved to Delhi. At that time, only Dr.A and I were the 'grown ups,' you know, the ones who had  jobs while the others were pursuing post-grads. The constant complaint with others was that we never never went clubbing often enough, which, according to them, should happen everyday. Then in a year after, the others grew up and got jobs, responsibilities, and work pressure. Now they too had to reach their offices on time and mornings became busy and late nights became not so attractive. They were happy to stick to our once a week party scene. As time passed, even the once a week clubbing became an effort. While earlier we reached clubs at 11:30 pm, now all agreed, it was easier to meet over dinner and part for our respective homes latest by midnight. The logic was that clubs are loud and noisy and sweaty and we never really got a chance to talk. God knows when exactly this happened but we stopped clubbing altogether for a few years.

Dr.A and I realized during one of our morning conversations that it was not us who had a problem with partying and staying up late, it was the others. They now valued their sleep more than we did and we concluded that they were all lazy bums and "too old" for us. And now that they were acting like they belonged to old-age homes, we needed new blood in the group...college going kids who also coaxed us into joining them at parties and clubs.

Thus, a few interesting (younger) people made brief appearances in our group but then they were either too childish, too broke, or too irritating. So it was back to us to keep the group interesting.

A few weeks ago, we (the boys and I) decided to go clubbing again. We now had Anckur with us, the club boy who dragged us to one he heard of just a few days ago. And we went. It was not at all like what I remembered clubbing to be. The place was small, filled with people and the AC was barely working. To top it all, the drinks were watered down...or the ice might have melted as soon as it hit the glass, I can not be sure. We strained to see in the dark...a few really good looking people caught our eyes but the for most part, we only saw human figures in the dark. AND most men were in either serious casuals (bermudas) or had time traveled from the 1960s with their powder blue bell bottoms and ruffled shirts.

I met a couple of really awesome men...one of them reminded me of an Ex, which was not what I was not at all prepared to deal with in a club. As we looked around for a well ventilated corner of the room, my eyes rested on a 50-something year old man who was dancing all alone with a drink in his hand. His mouth was pursed and his mustache and bald spot glistened with sweat under the disco lights. He continued with his bizarre on-the-spot dancing till he saw me looking at me. He then started to sway even more in energetic steps that scared the bejesus out of me. We decided that we needed to leave pronto. We might have saved his life, I'd like to think. If we had not moved out, he would have certainly given himself a heart attack.

We were at the club for barely 30 minutes and I had danced halfheartedly to probably 2 songs with the guy who reminded me of my Ex. It was not a happy evening.

On the way to our cars, I resisted the temptation to say, "Clubbing was so different and so much fun in our days." I felt old, bored, and totally angry. Where was the crowd that was growing up with us and why were they not partying anymore?

That corner in my heart and that spot on Internet

I visited that familiar space in internet again. The one where someone I knew and loved dearly still pens down thoughts. Thoughts that I could never quite say with certainty were about me. It could have been about anybody this person had met and been intimate with without my knowledge. I don't know.

I don't know what makes me visit that space again and again...every few months, as if I will finally know which posts were about me...about "us"...and which were not. I'm not dying to know and yet a part of me wants a confirmation that I really did matter at that time so many years ago.

How many years has it been since we broke up? Four? Five? Three? That's the problem. I don't recall the date or even the year we broke up. Does that mean I'm finally "over" this person? Have I moved on? That's what it should mean, right? Not being able to recall when you both broke up? And yet, there is that space that I visit. Tugged by my heart to revisit.

What does this all mean?

Girl talk

The one big positive of working in the publishing industry is now female-centric it is. In my current company, even the top bosses are women and the freedom that we girls/women have here gives me an understanding of how it must be to be a man in a male-centric workplace.

For instance, a simple thing like talking about men and periods and missing a period (we girls do talk a lot on those topics!) is done unbashedly. When I changed jobs, the open talking took me by surprise. But then I had moved from a company where there were only 2 women (including me) to a place where men became a minority. And when that happens, some men find themselves in an uncomfortable position of accidentally hearing candid girl talk.

A particular incident that never left me was when a manager, a single 30-something woman, was chit chatting with some of us and was expressing her frustration of not finding a trustworthy male friend to sleep with. It was when she said,"I just want an energetic 20-something guy to do me" that I noticed a movement in the cabin next to hers. Her loud talk had mortified the 20-something male manager. He, the very next day, moved to another cabin far away from hers. A thought popped to my mind, had a man loudly discussed his sexual need at a workplace, it would have disgusted and offended any woman and yet she would have done nothing to stop vulgar talks because the top bosses too were men. At least that's, sadly, what is happening with a friend of mine who is frantically looking for new job to get away from her boss who wastes no opportunity to let his intentions with her go unexpressed. If you are wondering why she did not complain to HR or her MD, let me tell you that she did all that. He was let go with a warning each time and he continued as if nothing had happened.

And then sometimes it's so easy to ignore/forget that there's a man present when a group of girls gets talking. It's quite possible that most men in my current company know the period cycle of women around them. In all probability it's innocent talk that 'enlightened' them.

"Hey, you don't look so well. What happened?"

"It's just, you know, the usual." Knowing glances are exchanged.

"Oh! Do you want a Meftal Spas? I always carry some. It helps me get through day 2 and 3 every time."

Or

When a colleague goes to every female in office in search of a spare sanitary pad, it doesn't take a genius to guess why.

And then there are times when talk shifts to the latest hottie someone has met, crushes, boyfriend troubles, and some poor guy, who joined when the conversation was on politics, stands silent wondering what to do. 

It's not really just about men or women is it? It's really about the gender representation at workplace that needs to be looked into. In a majority, women too can be just as insufferable as men.