Gym Gorillas

So recently I've started going to the gym - yes in the snow, dedication - and after a week and a half, I'm happy to say that there's been a significant improvement already!
Like many people who go to the gym for the first time it's quite intimidating. First of all, it's a new experience and probably out of your comfort zone. You're worried people might laugh at you, you might break the equipment, feel like the hippo in the room etc. But honestly, it's not that bad once you get started and are in a regular routine. And have your trusty iPod to avoid awkward conversations. Confidence is key.
Being a student, my university has a gym which is cheaper than normal ones and obviously nearly everyone uses it. However, being the observer that I am, there's just a few things I wanted to share and get off my chest.
Most girls tend to stay in the cardio section and don't go near the weights area. For a start, that's no good because doing resistance burns more calories even after you stop working out. It also builds tone and tightens your figure - not everyone ends up looking boyish, it depends on your natural body shape.
So why does this happen? Well, partly because the weights room is a testosterone den where its inhabitants are inept of gym etiquette and just stare as if they've never seen a female before.
Apparently, the gym is the place to "pick up girls." Conclusion: Nowhere is safe even if you're not wearing make-up and dressed up.
For example, at my induction when the personal trainer showed us around the weights room there was a group of guys doing sit-ups.
I thought: Oh that's nice, so dedicated to the cause. Then one of them started to scream with 7 others egging him: "Go on ma son!! Go on you p*ssy!"
As you can imagine, my face dropped and I had to seriously control my laughter. For someone who's never been in a gym (me lol), I was really weirded out.
I was like: For God's sake guys, it's a sit-up you're not giving birth to triplets!
I swear, I just wanted to walk out and never return. But I was like: no no, I'm here to focus on myself. I'll just come earlier. So that's what my flatmate and I do. Most of the time it works but there's always 1 day...
Today, it was unusually busy and to my horror we could hear battle cries as some poor soul sounded like he was giving birth. To be very honest, I have no idea why guys feel the need to strut around like peacocks waving their "jewels" through their trackies (there really ain't much to show) and grunt, roar, cry as though they're in a battle scene from 300.
For starters: you are NOT Gerard Butler. Secondly: by grunting louder than a pig through a megaphone does  not make you gain muscle faster. It just sounds like you're constipated and didn't use the loo before coming in. Thirdly, by strutting around does not make you look "cool" or some sort of "stud". You look like a shifty car salesman. Go home.
So as you can see, the gym is an excellent place to observe human behaviour and make you question people's levels of sanity. It's also probably the best way to lose weight. Ignore the neanderthals, you're there for a reason. And I guess they're background noise.

Asians never usually answer back. Part IV

This is the final post of my recent series; if you've not been in the loop or known what's gone on here are the links for Part I, Part II and Part III.
Today's just really a conclusion of things and my thoughts on the south Asian community in general just based on things I've seen, heard and experienced. I'm a first-generation British Asian, like many others in the UK, and my family hails from East Africa with its origins based in Punjab. However, many people seem shocked that there are Indians living in Africa who aren't black which makes me laugh. I guess we're like potatoes; you find us everywhere.
Being first-generation (or second, third etc) gives you an advantage, I believe that it's a perfect opportunity to create your own unique identity, dispel with backward ideas and progress passing on strength, belief and self-assurance to the next generation. It's a golden opportunity to build yourself and not continue the previous generation's pain, attitude or mindset. We have the chance to change things and build ourselves to progress even further.
I agree that there are good and bad points in each generation, but it all depends on what we choose to take from it and bring forward. Most of the time, I don't see people my age taking advantage of the fact that they're born in one of the most affluent countries in the world which gives them opportunity, a decent education, everyone more or less gets a chance to try achieve what they want. Fair enough we want to go a bit crazy - drink, do things we're not supposed to and live it up as much as we can, but there's a time where you have to choose between popping bottles and making something of yourself.
But what gets to me is that the majority of us are so passive; we don't try to be proactive or really bother trying to stand up for ourselves nor our identity. Instead we behave like crabs; we constantly pull each other down and nitpick at each other:

"Oh she's so two-faced, pretends to be a goody two shoes when she's the world's biggest tart."
"He's such a player - goes with anyone, is reckless and is just a tool."
"He/she is Pakistani/Bengali/south Indian/Punjabi/ Gujarati: I automatically dislike them" and vice versa. 

We don't support each other enough nor do we help each other to succeed: it's almost like we were born to dislike each other from day 1. At the end of the day, we're all brown and come under the term "south Asian" or to the racists: "Pakis."
There is so much disunity, great dislike and discomfort amongst us when there shouldn't be: the colonists were successful in their conquering of India and various countries because they picked on the differences between ethnic groups. The term: "Divide and rule" springs to mind and it is still a very successful method of controlling the masses.
Yes, we may have had our differences in the past and we come from a patchwork quilt of different cultures, languages and ideas, but at the very core of things: we're not so different from each other.
Yet the irony here is that whilst we enjoying dissecting each other and berating one another for our faults, we cannot stand it if someone outside of our culture/ethnicity or even caste dares to cast an opinion on us.
This is where we start to fall apart because we're not strong or supporting each other, because wherever there are chinks in the armour is where the pieces come apart the quickest.
How are we supposed to progress and build a stronger generation when we ourselves cannot resolve issues between ourselves, our families, our friends?
We sit very comfortably on our high horses looking down at each other and laughing at those who buck the trend and go off in their own direction. Instead of supporting them, we laugh at them, put them down, criticise them and try to break their self-confidence when really we should be encouraging them for doing something different. It's not easy going off down a path where no one has been before.
We don't seem to follow our hearts and go for what we really want; there needs to be more brave individuals in the south Asian community to represent us, speak for us and reassure us that we can do anything provided we have talent, determination, the will to succeed and support of our peers.
We need more south Asians in politics, the media, sports and in the general public domain. I wish that, as a collective group, we were braver and believed in ourselves more. There is an abundance of talent in our community that is either suppressed or too scared to branch out into the world to make something of themselves in fear of failure or disapproval from our families.
Do it! Be brave for God's sake: what's the worst that can happen?
I'm pretty certain that your family will still love you at the end of the day because you are their child, their relation and they will always be 100% behind you.
I wish that every single one us rethought the way we think, the actions we do and why we do certain things without us realising it. We blindly follow institutions without asking questions; how can we progress if we don't ask questions?
It's time we stood up for ourselves, our culture and our identity: we've been so caught up in Western issues that we have forgotten who we are. There is a reason why I selected this specific title: Asians never answer back. We shrink back into the shadows and swallow our tongues when sh*t is thrown at us or someone we know because we are told that to stay quiet is the best solution. It isn't anymore.
I'm not saying that we should all stick our middle finger up at people (as much as we want to) or join radical anti-establishment groups, participate in gang or dodgy behaviour but we must start to assert ourselves and defend one another regardless of difference.
Yes, sometimes silence is more powerful than words can ever be, but we must learn to stand up for one another, help each other and move forward together as a collective group. There is an arsenal of strength, talent, power and innovation within us - it's time we unlock it and prove to ourselves what we can do.

"Asian women never usually speak back!" Part III

I dully stared into the mirror cut off from the squeals and excitement of the young girls behind me as they fussed and clucked over each other. I wished they'd shut up. More importantly, I wished that someone would bring me something to eat. Deep-fried, chocolate, bland, savoury or sweet: I didn't care, just something real I could get my chops around.

I couldn't move my wrists for shit; chained to the table with glistening cuffs, rings and this messy affair spread to my eyes, hair line, ears and neckline.

Glints of light hit the mirror, all the chaotic finery I had on and bounced off onto the walls, wardrobe and the girls's sleek hair

"I'm back! Right, let's get started!"

I jerked at the voice and looked at a woman with large kohl lined eyes beaming down at me, through pearly whites. I watched her deftly flick her long hair over her shoulder and come towards me with an armful of glossy magazines.

Oh God, what was she going to do to me now? Straightening my hair was a big step, I never normally let anyone touch my hair, but this? I closed my eyes and tried to remember every prayer I'd ever heard.

"What do you think of this look?" Pearly Whites asked me. 

I nervously opened my eyes to find myself staring into a glossy double page spread of a girl with her hands defiantly on her waist, game face on scowling back at my chubby face.

Heavy eye liner framed her burning eyes, some photo effect highlighted her high cheekbones and made an under-nourished, gaunt creature look almost attractive. I felt myself sucking in my tyre, hollowing my cheeks and narrowing my eyes to try minimise my bags. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and snorted to myself. I looked constipated. 

I hesitantly said, "Interesting...what do you think?"

Pearly Whites went off on one (honestly, it went in one bejeweled ear and out the other) and I found myself nodding along not knowing what the hell was going to happen to me.

"Great! Seriously, you're one of the best clients I've ever had!" Pearly Whites exclaimed as she motioned me to slightly lift my face. 

The next forty-five minutes, were what I can only describe as assault. Lotions, potions and powders bombarded my face their scents mingling together to form an acrid smell that irritated my nose and made me feel heady. 

The whole time this went on I heard voices. Hisses, cruel whispers, remarks, murmurs:

"She's a bit dark but she has a good heart! I suppose that matters."

"I thought you said she'd lost weight!?"

"At least she has your eyes."

"Where did she get her curls from? Your other daughters have very nice, normal hair."

"Your eldest looks English but complete Desi!"

I'd cried myself to sleep most nights, eaten myself into oblivion which only fuelled the insults of: "Little miss piggy!" and my particular favourite: "Fatty boom boom!"

I'd seen my weight soar, self esteem plummet only to go on starvation benders, feel nauseated, tired and unhappier than before as I sought comfort in sugary treats. I'd bought foundation and powder that was two shades lighter than my normal skin - I was certain that the girl on the till had secretly laughed at me.
I'd read random things online on what makes someone beautiful, scrutinise images of perfectly poised women with full lips, impossibly flawless skin and shiny smooth hair. And then look at the short, dumpy girl with frizz, water retention thighs and a tummy staring back at me in the mirror. I wasn't a bad person; I just didn't look like these creatures.

"Ma, why doesn't anyone see the good in me?" I remember asking her one night, tears streaming down my face as I sat on her bed. "Why can't I look like the others?"

She'd given me a smile, Ma always looked so beautiful when she smiled at me, which lit up her wrinkled face and made her hazel eyes glitter.  She'd taken my hand in her soft, prune-like one and gently said: "You get your features from me. Look at me; I've never been slim and I was always dark. It's our genetics baby, we can't change it. You remember Bally aunty?"

I nodded as Ma continued: "She was the beautiful one out of us. Very slim, beautiful brown eyes - what you call an Indian beauty. She used to win all our local beauty contests so much so, they sent her to Mumbai to enter the real ones. She never won anything, not even the classical dance round."

"What happened?"

"She was too Indian looking and I remember her telling me that she'd fix that. I didn't know what she meant, I just wanted her to be happy. Then one night she came home without telling us. My ma screamed when she saw her and didn't leave her room for days. Pappa couldn't leave the house without people staring, asking questions about Bally."

"Ma....is this why she...?"

"Yes baby," Ma said hanging her head so that I couldn't see her tears. "A beautiful soul wasted because of her tone. They didn't hear her sing, see her do classical dance or the way she loved life."

Ma's beautiful eyes filled with tears as she held my face in her hands: "You have such a beautiful soul, look after it. You are your Nani, your Ma, your Bally aunty: all of us. We couldn't stand up to the insults because no one told us how beautiful we were as little girls."

Ma smiled at me through their her tears and fiercely told me: "We had to hear it and believe it from others who didn't know or care for us. We didn't believe ourselves and what we saw every time we looked into the mirror. We didn't realise how beautiful our eyes were, our long, rich hair that we braided or the way our eyes lit up whenever we smiled or sang. Don't ever listen to what people say you should look like. You know yourself. That's all that matters my baby."

"Well...what do you think?" Pearly whites asked as she moved me to face the mirror. I sat in silence at the transformation.
My curls had been tamed, pulled and tied into a complicated bun fastened with a red, diamante-studded clasp at the top of my head. My Ma's hazel eyes sparkled back at me through kajol brimming with love and belief. My lips were a light shade of rosy pink and for a second, it felt like I was staring at an old photo of Bally aunty. All those years and thoughts wasted on unknown faces of women I had tried to copy; I'd finally realised there was no point.
I had my Nani's chin, Ma's eyes and eye colour, her elegant nose, ears, my Bally aunty's lips and forehead and my Pappa's generous smile. 

For the first time in the months of hectic preparation I smiled and said: "Thank you. I- wow- I don't know what to say...I mean...I didn't even recognise myself."

Pearly Whites smiled back: "Why? You didn't even need a lot to be very honest!"

We heard voices downstairs and the girls ran back in the room squealing: "Come on, come on! You can't keep him waiting!"

I smiled at them and hugged a couple of them as they helped carry flowers, the heavily embroidered hemming and linked their arms through mine as we walked towards the front door where my pappa stood smiling at me. I kissed my nieces' foreheads and gave my squirming nephew a kiss on the cheek. 

Ma was right; we were all reflections of each other. 

"Your Ma would be so proud to see you today," Pappa said after kissing my cheek. "You look so much like her and Bally."

Around him aunts nodded and comments of praise, approval and smiles could be heard as I stepped out of the front door towards my future. 

"Asian women never usually answer back!" Part II

Happy New Year to whoever it is reading this post; turns out we survived another "end-of-the-world" prediction. Shock, horror! Who’d have thought it!?

For those of you who read my previous post, this is a follow-up and is part of a series looking at the perception, attitude and personal view of south Asian women in general.For those who haven’t, here’s the link to Part I - have a read. 

I have decided to dedicate a part of my blog to writing about certain circumstances that south Asian women tend to face. To begin with, it was my fiery response to the atrocious ordeal which has recently occurred in India. Then I realised that there isn't really a place (that I know of) where these kinds of things are actually discussed in regards to south Asian women regardless of age, faith, background, nationality etc.  

Recently I sent out a little quiz about the representation of south Asian females in the media. The results I got varied but in general they were along the same lines.  

In numerous south Asian households, there's an abundance of TV channels such as Star Plus, Zee TV (and its other names), B4U, Sony, Life OK, Colours etc. There's loads, and more keep emerging specially tailored for various ethnic groups in south Asia.

Brown people are not just brown people; there's variety within and boy do we highlight this!

In my family, my grandma and dad regularly watch various shows on Star Plus and the odd Bollywood film. 

I watch them sometimes (we all get lumped into at some point!) because it's how I learn Hindi due to the subtitles.  My younger brother calls it: "hell time" and safely runs upstairs to avoid weekday evenings. Why? Because from 7pm - 9:30pm Star Plus takes over and there's nothing we can do about it. 

The one thing that I can credit these TV channels is that at least they teach people Hindi, Urdu etc because there's a lot of south Asian kids in the UK, USA, Canada etc who don't know their mother tongue. So in that sense, I guess they're keeping a big part of south Asian culture alive because language is a crucial part of heritage. 

Nearly all of the south Asian soap operas (dramas etc) take place within the family home and dramatically document family life. Normally the setting is an impossibly huge, palatial manor with sweeping lawns, private driveways where a random guard is posted, private drivers on call and the rooms are en suite. The floors are marbled, large pillars dominate the hallways etc - the families are more or less super rich (but we never find out what they actually work as lol). 

Now to the family members: there's a grandma or grandpa, mother-in-law, father-in-law, sons who each have their own wife, a random aunt or two, little children who are quite annoying and maybe a family pet. It's a big, extended family and despite there being so much space in this stately home, they always get in the way of each other. 

It wouldn't be south Asian soap opera land without the dramas and struggles of various characters - it's always in the lives of the female characters. Typically the mother-in-law (saas) will have a problem with her daughter-in-law (bahu). AKA: the "saas-bahu conflict". The clingy mother usually never approves of this new women who have stolen her beloved son's heart and does anything to make her life a misery.  And when the two actually get along, the random evil aunt decides to step in with her wooden spoon to stir. 

But I'm not here to write about that. I'm here to write about the presentation of the females in such shows which seemingly grip a large portion of the south Asian community. 

From the survey I sent out, the main issue that kept on popping up was that in nearly all of the south Asian soaps, the women were always presented as quiet (verging on submissive), obedient, withstanding insults and being in the kitchen. Whilst in contrast, the female characters who weren't submissive or living in the kitchen were presented as "too Westernised", gobby, rude and disregarded their culture: basically in soap opera land they are evil.  The good daughter-in-law is silent, prays devoutly, speaks softer than cotton, has an unbelievable love for doing housework and obeying everyone. She is vulnerable, confined to the kitchen and often told to "do as she is told!" And as she does what she is told, remains obedient etc: she is presented as a good, ideal daughter-in-law whom everyone loves...

The bad daughter-in-law is evil, typically wears more make-up, flamboyant saris, schemes out loud in quiet rooms (and no one hears lol), is a control freak and doesn't like the other daughter-in-law to be happy or have a positive relationship with the mother-in-law. In a sense, she's above the men of the family but is presented as being evil. 

It is also interesting to note that the good daughter-in-law is light skinned, has large earnest brown eyes, small lips, covered hair and minimal make up whilst the evil character is generally portrayed as dark skinned, exaggerated make-up and has evil music when she appears on screen.

The music on these shows is ANOTHER story as are the shoddy, amateur camera effects: do we really need an individual close up of everyone's fake shock faces, have them go black and white and technicolor with lightening bolt noises? We get it: someone effed up big time and it is bad....really bad!

So you can see it gets messy and tangled up. Both of these women don't have a job, they stay confined to the family home and rely on their husbands. It suggests that these women cannot live without their husbands and are at their mercy. Of course this realistically doesn't relate to the majority of south Asian women many of whom are well-educated, have their own job, financial independence or own property. A lot of them don't know how to cook either. 

It's incredibly inflated (for entertainment purposes of course, but some people take it seriously) and the gender roles are clearly marked out: man must work and woman must cook. 

Don't get me wrong: some shows are light-hearted, cheerful and purely about comedy with several female characters being the heroines and getting ahead in life

However, it's important to remember the distinction between soap opera land and reality. I'm aware that the majority of people have their heads screwed on the right way, are liberal, tolerant people but there's the percentage of goofs who believe this inflated stuff. 

A lot of people don't live in such an extended family anymore let alone a nuclear family; divorced families are rarely presented on such channels and the conflict is always shown between women - male conflict is rarely discussed and if it is: it's usually about land, male ego and something to do with a woman. 

These women are presented as jealous, untrusting and power hungry creatures: OK, as human beings, I guess we all have the element within our nature. But to have it repeatedly shown in every single show, on every single channel is tedious. It's not original and I think it subconsciously erodes our faith in what we think. 

The way that relationships, family unit, mannerisms and attitudes are formed often is a reflection of our society and society often reflects us as individuals. The media (TV, radio, newspapers, magazines, Internet whatever) tries to mimic that and spoon feed us an unrealistic, idealised version of these things.

It is important not to get caught up in such things and to look beyond everything that is spoon fed to us; we need to use our minds more and listen to our compassionate humane side. We all like to think that any form of TV is purely for entertainment purposes, which the majority of it is, but many of us don't seem to be aware that perhaps we could be picking up things (good and bad) without us realising it. 

NEXT TIME: Beauty: what is expected of us and what lengths do some women go to in order to attain such looks.

This post is part of a series where I will be looking at the perception, attitude and personal view of south Asian women in general. If you would like to offer your thoughts, opinions or suggestions for topics to discuss please post a comment and I will do my best to reply.