TOILET TALES

 Toilet tales

The Netflix biopic Kargil Girl on the Indian Air Force woman helicopter pilot Flight Lieutenant Gunjan Saxena has had social media buzzing like indignant bees, nay hornets with heated discussions about the purported misogyny of the Indian Air Force and by larger inference,  of the entire Indian Armed Forces. I must confess that not having a subscription of either Netflix or Amazon Prime, I have not had the opportunity of watching the film itself, but having read the raging controversy on social media, I did take time out to watch critically the official trailer of the film. Of course, I am acutely aware that a trailer is just that: a trailer and therefore  forming an opinion about a film based solely on it's  trailer is rather premature and kind of juvenile. But having said that, a trailer does give you some indication as to the the tone and tenor of a film. And while I am in no position to comment or to review the film not having watched it completely, given the histrionics of the few frames of the film I did see as it's trailer, I can say with conviction that the portrayal of the Armed Forces in this film too is typically and  tediously Bollywood : very larger than life and quite, quite dissociated from reality. And as for the misogyny bit, the sad truth of life is that while no organisation or institution or society however hallowed, is completely, hundred percent free of this scourge, in real life misogyny is not the dramatically blatant and hysterically loud discrimination as has been portrayed in the film. In real life, wherever it exists, misogyny does so as a subtle undercurrent of deeply ingrained prejudice against the female sex concealed under a thin veneer of modern-ness.

But today, I am not going to give a discourse on misogyny. I am going to talk instead, about more pressing issues: about women's changing rooms, specifically about women's toilets.Not many years back I was posted to an institution which till I joined had only one woman employee. I remember not without some amusement, about how my only female colleague came up to me on the very day of my reporting for work and handed me a key. 

It's the toilet key. She informed me. Ladies' toilet.

It seems that this toilet had been won by her as right after a fierce and bitter battle with the admin and invoking the sacred bond of sisterhood, she bade me never ever to let anyone, any male that is, to use this toilet. And thus for the next  one year my female colleague and I had exclusive access to this toilet which was always sparkling clean and fragrant with Odonil, unlike the vomit inducing ammoniacal odours that emanated from the male toilet just 5 feet away. Then my colleague was posted out and I went on vacation. When I returned to work and asked for the key to the toilet I was told peremptorily that the toilet would henceforth also be used by a male colleague who shared the same floor with us.  The reason given was that since this gentleman was a little unwell, he found it convenient to use our toilet which was at a distance of about 20 feet from his office rather than use the toilet for male colleagues which was quite far away from his office: at a distance of 30 feet.

 This ludicrous explanation got my gall and I marched up to the admin (a male). I positioned my elbows on his desk, leaned forward, pulled my glasses down to my nose, fixed him with my iciest stare through their tops and declared, " Partner, if the ladies' toilet is not returned to the ladies, I will not hesitate to raise the level."

Now "raise the level" is something that everyone in my institution is petrified of. This thinly veiled intimidation along with the steel in my eyes convinced the admin that retreat was the wisest and only option left for him. He quietly handed back both the keys to the toilet. I sauntered back to my office smug in victory, dangling the keys as trophy; and enjoyed the use of the sparkling clean and Odonil perfumed Ladies' toilet uninterrupted for the next 2 years.

Before you tsk tsk in sympathy and empathy with me at the the rampant misogyny in my organisation, let me tell you to other toilet tales.

Both happened again many years back while I was part of a relief team that moved to Orissa during the super cyclone of 1999. The first tale is from the time I was on my way to Odisha and the second is from my journey back.

We were a group of three doctors and a few paramedical staff who moved early one rainy morning from Ranchi to Cuttack by road. It was a long and tiring journey of almost 24 hours punctuated by many stops because of the bad roads made worse by the rain and storm. The man in charge, Dr P was a very senior doctor colleague of mine and I was the only woman in the entire convoy of vehicles that night. At the start of the journey , Dr P who was sitting in front of the vehicle turn around and said to me, "AiBee, do let me know whenever you need to take a toilet break. Please do not hesitate. We will stop and make sure that we find a suitable toilet for you."

 Those days I was a complete novice just out of Med school and thinking that I might be shy, he repeated his reassurances to me many times throughout the entire journey and true to his word, whenever I did request for a stop he stopped and made sure  a toilet was found for me. I also remember how that night we camped at an old PHC which had only one toilet without a door and how in the morning, our attendant told me, " Madam, I have kept the toilet free for you. You see, it does not have a door." At my horrified expression, he was quick to reassure me, "Don't worry, Madam, I will stand guard at the corridor entry. No one will come inside." And he stood, at a distance to ensure propriety, not unlike a lioness defending her cubs till I had finished my job safely. He was just a waiter and his name was Barik. I will never forget him.

On the way back we covered the distance again by road but this time there were no doctors with me. Instead I took a lift in the vehicle which was part of an infantry convoy. Again I was the only woman. The man in charge this time was not a doctor but an infantry person, again a very senior colleague. And this time too, just like my onward journey I faced no toilet travails. On the contrary I remember how accomodating and good natured everyone was when I suddenly needed to answer nature's call in the midst of nowhere (this was '99 and there were no roadside swanky dhabas with luxury washrooms on highways and this was just a poor state highway) and we had to move off the road right into the village in search of a suitable toilet.

(Now those were Aswachh Bharat times and even the only pakka house of the village  did not have a toilet. When I requested the lady of the house if I could use her washroom she happily pointed to little enclosure behind her house fenced off by palm leaves. I pushed the rudimentary door and peeked in to check whether it was clean. But there was no toilet; it was just a bit of ground overgrown with some suspicious looking vegetation, fenced off by the palm leaves. I looked back at the lady askance and she nodded encouragingly: "Toilet!' she told me. I had no other option but to to resign myself to the pleasures of an open air  washroom that day.......)

So then, coming  to the point that I wanted to make by telling you these toilety tales : I strongly believe that misogyny is not inherent to an organisation. Rather, misogyny is very much an individual ailment and  personality based. A organisation may have many misogynistic MCPs within its  folds  and at the same time have many many more men who are completely free of such prejudices. Therefore, to label the entire Indian Air Force misogynistic due to a melodramatic film is I think, doing them a grave, grave injustice.

PS. As I was telling this tale to Other Half, I found him counting on his fingers: "Hema, Rekha, Jaya, Sushma.."

"Girlfriends?" I queried.

"We have four women doctors in the hospital." He told me. And then murmured to himself:" I've never tried to find out whether we have separate toilets for them..."

" Well, you can start now." I smiled at him