Friday, July 25, 2014

Jab We Met - Community is no longer a barrier in young couples’ search for the perfect soulmate

P. ANIL KUMAR
Kamal Kamaraju (Andhraite) weds Supriya Biswas (Bengali)“We call each other mutual appreciation club. There are no similarities in what we like to do, where to go, what films to watch. But our core values are the same,” says Supriya.
MATRIMONY
Jab We Met
Community is no longer a barrier in young couples’ search for the perfect soulmate
A couple of wing-backed chairs and sofas sunk luxuriously into the lush wine carpet at the chic restaurant in Hyderabad where Supriya and Kamal had met for the first time last September. Their lives were a world apart: she, 29, was a management consultant, child of a Bengali family settled in Bhopal; he, 32, was an upcoming Telugu actor, a far cry from the line-up of suitable Bengali boys Supriya’s parents had been parading before her ever since she came of ‘marriageable’ age.
Countless such ‘boy-seeings’ later, she found herself face-to-face with Kamal, listening attentively as he talked about his hip Telugu lifestyle. “No averted eyes, guarded smile or pursed lips. The best thing about Supriya was her openness to other cultures,” recalls Kamal. When their conversation went on well past midnight over several plates of Andhra prawn fritters, red wine and the different acting styles of Mithun and Nagarjuna, they knew they had a match on their hands. “It wasn’t as if my pulse was racing, but I did not find myself tongue-tied either,” Supriya reminisces. “I felt an immediate connect with him.” Three months later, it was band, baaja and baraat for the couple.
Inter-community marriages like Supriya and Kamal’s are nothing new, but so far they fell predominantly in the realm of ‘love marriages’. That now is changing, with marriage portals, social media, matrimonial columns in newspapers, even old-fashioned family, friend and religious networks actually ‘arranging’ such matches. ‘Caste no bar’ was once a measure of cosmopolitanism in matrimonial ads; today, even community is not, at least in the cities, sometimes even in the smaller towns. It’s still a small number, a huge 90 per cent of marriages still being arranged within caste and community parameters, but the signs are encouraging.

Photograph by Jitender Gupta
Reeba (Punjabi) weds Rajneesh (Assamese)
“We knew we were getting into an arranged marriage, so it was important to know everything about each other before taking the final leap.”
Reeba and Rajneesh, for instance, first met on an online wedding portal. People are nothing like their profiles on websites, they say, but Reeba found the appealing snapshot of a brawny Rajneesh on his high mountain bike against the looming landscape of Ladakh pretty close to real. “We met in a week’s time and then planned a trip to Lansdowne to see if the magic was still working,” says Reeba, 30, a hard-nosed entrepreneur from Delhi. Rajneesh, 30, her husband now of three years, had his eyes set on photography and design. “We went from Bangkok to Goa to London before finally getting hitched.” And thus it was that a loud, go-getting Punjabi kudi came to be wedded to the quiet, introverted Rajneesh, and to the northeastern culture of his home in Nagaon, Assam.
Yes, they have overcome barriers of caste and community, region and language, but are couples like Supriya and Kamal or Reeba and Rajneesh more the exceptions than a norm that might come to stay? Says author Nandini Krishnan, “The shift in gender roles over the last few decades was bound to be a factor. Criteria have changed too—people are more concerned about what the other person wants from life, where they want to live and so on than where they pray, or what his or her ethnic identity is.”
Nothing exemplifies this better than the ambition Rajneesh has set for himself and Reeba. On to a new business venture, he says, “We both want to be influential and rich, and of course see the world together.” This can have nuances. For Supriya, there are no similarities in what she and Kamal like to do, where they want to go or even the films they like to watch. “But our core values are the same.” And that is what conquers all: hiccups of rituals, language, cuisine. “Our marriage was a hotch-potch affair,” says Kamal. “She wore a Chandni Chowk type lehenga with shimmery bracelets, I wore an Andhra-style kurta with an ornate topor. The cuisine was a mix of Mughlai, Arabic and Bengali, with pineapple tikka, haleem and navratan salad. It was a non-ritualistic occasion. We had relatives and friends from Hyderabad, Bhopal, Calcutta and Delhi who wanted a little bit of both cultures.”
According to matchmaker Gopal Suri, such marriages have actually doubled in the last six years, especially in educated and NRI families. “If they are financially equal, chances are they’ll look beyond their own community,” he says. Gourav Rakshit, coo, Shaadi.com, couldn’t agree more. “Now many Indians believe that the perfect match is more about matching compatibility than horoscopes. Education and social media have made spouse-hunting simpler.”

Photograph by Tribhuvan Tiwari
Leela (Bihari) weds Nitin Kumar (Tamilian)
“We hit it off really well. A few chit-chats, informal meetings, and the marriage ball got rolling,” says Nitin.
It’s no longer unusual to see singles sign up on countless matrimonial websites, microblogs and regional sub-sites, with the ‘Community no bar’ tab against their customised profiles. That is exactly how Leela spotted Nitin on a matrimonial site two years ago. “He hadn’t even uploaded a picture, nor was he the curious sort. But somehow I felt I must pursue this,” says the 29-year-old visualiser working in Delhi. And when they met a couple of days later, it felt ‘Oh so right!’ What didn’t help was the fact that Leela came from a strictly vegetarian, teetotaller, conservative Bihari family, and Nitin, 30, from an outgoing Tamilian one, and is someone who loves his beer, his Chicken 65 and late-night revelry that came with being the manager of a top Delhi restaurant. Worse, none in Leela’s family had married outside the community before. A bit of coaxing later, the two decided to go for an all-out Bihari wedding.
Compromise and adaptability thus are two factors such marriages hinge on. And not just before the event. “When I was a bachelor, I had a freewheeling existence. My house was in a disarray, but now Leela insists on the minutest of details—from the colour of furniture to the choice of cutlery,” says Nitin. It hasn’t been an easy transition for Leela either. “I was a shy girl who generally kept to myself. But you should see me now: I watch late-night films, try out new recipes, even drink once in a while!”
It was bound to happen. Beatrice Jauregui, an assistant professor at the University of Toronto who has worked extensively on inter-community marriages in India, says people are moving away from their home communities for education and work to large urban centres. “Quite naturally, they’ll be involved in a larger geospatial spread of activities, meeting different kinds of people.”
Yet, says sociologist Surinder Singh Jodhka, the phenomenon is found more among upwardly mobile families. The middle class, he says, is increasingly looking at similar professional backgrounds over other factors. Youngsters travelling through the country on work, staying in different cities where they may be posted, cities becoming more multicultural have all contributed to this trend. High-rise apartment complexes in cities like Pune and Gurgaon also throw people of different regions and communities together, bound by the common way of life in the city.

Photograph by Apoorva Salkade
Raghu Ambekar (Kannadiga) weds Mayuri Utturkar (Maharashtrian)
“We had clear notions of an ideal match, having lived and worked abroad for several years,” says Mayuri.
At the engagement ceremony of Raghu and Mayuri in Thane, there are some 40 people gathered at their spacious residence. Even in this motley group, it’s easy to tell the boy’s family from the girl’s. They come from the border region of Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh, wearing their nose-rings on the right and speaking a thickly accented Marathi. They may be sparring over whether the milkier Marathi coffee beats the sharper version of the south, but they have agreed on the match. “We knew the boy is from a decent family and that is enough,” says Mayuri’s mother, multi-tasking briskly through the maze of activity at home. Raghu, 30, is a scientist in Minneapolis; Mayuri, 28, a dyed-in-the-wool academic. “We were both looking for sensitive, educated companions, irrespective of community,” says Raghu. “Our parents of course shortlisted profiles, looked out for the astrological signs and then gave us the go-ahead,” says Mayuri, dressed in a bright pink embroidered sari and a baroque Marathi nosepin. “But we had clear notions of an ideal match, having lived and worked overseas for a long time.”
Planning for the big day was a bit frenetic, though. “Coming from different regions, our parents would not understand what the other was saying and often ended up agreeing to something they didn’t know,” Mayuri chuckles. Her folks had spoken to Raghu on the phone several times, but never met him.

Photograph by Jitender Gupta
Priya Banerjee (Bengali Hindu) and Shabaab Haq (Bihari Muslim)
“There was some resistance from family and friends. But in the aroma of mutton korma, kasturi fish and rosogollas, the differences were submerged,” says Shabaab.
Bridegroom Shabaab hadn’t seen Priya either, except in a family photograph. But the young entrepreneur had marked her out, the girl in the yellow suit. Their mothers had met in Delhi, become good pals, chitchatting over cups of chai, exc­hanging sweetmeats during festivals, sometimes even plo­tting to get their children married off. Never mind that Priya’s was a Hindu family from a small town in Bengal, and Shabaab’s folks are liberal Muslims from Bihar. “Our folks knew each other well and introduced us, silently hoping it would work out,” says Priya, 26. Three months later, the qazi came home to officially stir the Bengali Hindu-Bihari Muslim potpourri. Not religious but cultural differences caused some initial worry. “There was some resistance from friends and a few relatives, so we decided to bridge the gap by hosting a grand reception in Delhi,” says Shabaab. “With the aroma of mutton korma, kasturi fish and freshly warmed rosogollas in the air, it was impossible not to set aside the differences!”
Such differences sublimated, will marriages continue to be a function of karmic destiny in India? Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, author of Arranged Marriage, believes families are becoming more accepting of the new trend, allowing couples to make independent choices even within framed set-ups. Arranged marriage as we knew it is being rewritten. It’s now called the Re-Arranged Marriage.

By Priyadarshini Sen with Prachi Pinglay-Plumber and Francis Maindl

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

The terror weapons Israel is using in its war crimes against civilians in Gaza

The terror weapons Israel is using in its war crimes against civilians in Gaza

David Wilson . Posted in News

If history is anything to go by, Israel will not be held to account for its violations of international law and use of horrific weapons in its attack on Gaza.

Fletchettes
Fletchettes: Israel admits it is using this horrific weapon in Gaza.
Guardian article on 20 July reported on the accusations by the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights that the Israeli military are using flechette shells -- which spray out thousands of tiny and potentially lethal metal darts -- against civilians in Gaza.
And evidence is growing that it is not just flechettes that are terrifying the trapped people of this ghetto. To which the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) responds that, "As a rule, the IDF only employs weapons that have been determined lawful under international law, and in a manner which fully conforms with the laws of armed conflict".
International laws and conventions have been constructed to decide how killing can take place. Rule books for war define whether you can use weapon X, but not weapon Y - a sort of thou-shalt-not-kill with Y because it is an indecent way to murder your enemy. Here are four horrific weapons, for which there is growing evidence of deployment by Israel in its current invasion of Gaza.
Flechettes
Fletchettes artillery or rocket rounds contain thousands of 4-cm feathered dart needles that will penetrate anything. These anti-personnel weapons are detonated in the air, spreading up to 8000 metal darts over a 20-30 meter “kill zone”.
The effect is indiscriminate death or wounding.
The use of flechettes is outlawed by the Hague Conventions of 1899 and 1907 which forbid employing “arms, projectiles or materials calculated to cause unnecessary suffering” and by the 1949 Fourth Geneva Convention.
White phosphorus 
White Phosphorous is a poisonous, combustible non-metal is referred to in the US military as 'Shake 'n Bake'. It ignites spontaneously, glows in the dark and removes oxygen from the air while emitting highly toxic fumes.
The effect is death by asphyxiation and/or by inhaling poison.
White phosphorus is outlawed under the 1925 Geneva Protocol which prohibits “the use in war of asphyxiating, poisonous or other gases”, by Protocol III of the 1980 Convention on Certain Conventional Weapons which “prohibits or restricts the use of Incendiary Weapons” and The Battle Book, published by the US Command and General Staff College states, “It is against the law of land warfare to employ white phosphorous against personnel targets.”
Dense Inert Metal Explosive (DIME) 
DIMES are made from a mixture of explosive materials such as HMX, a colourless liquid chemical explosive, and RDX, an explosive nitroamine and small particles of chemically-inert material such as tungsten. Upon detonation, the casing breaks open into extremely small particles. It is meant to limit the distance at which the explosive causes damage.
The effect is horrific wounds and severe biological and carcinogenic illnesses caused by the bomb's micro-shrapnel. In 2009, Italian scientists affiliated with the New Weapons Research Committee stated that DIME wounds were “untreatable” because the powdered tungsten cannot be surgically removed.
Depleted uranium (DU)
Depleted uranium is the waste product produced when uranium ore is enriched. Because it is so heavy, 1.7 times denser than lead, a DU shell can punch through buildings. On impact, radioactive dust is scattered.
The effect is death on immediate impact or death years, or generations, later. DU can cause bowel diseases, kidney failure, cancer and mutation of chromosomes.
DU is outlawed by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the Charter of the United Nations, the Genocide Convention, the Convention Against Torture, the Fourth Geneva Convention of 1949; the Conventional Weapons Convention of 1980 and by the Hague Conventions of 1899 and 1907.
Murder on an industrial scale
Unsurprisingly, the Israeli military is reluctant to speak openly about their munitions, but it has admitted that flechettes were fired on the village of Khuzaa, east of Khan Younis, in Gaza. This, says B'Tselem, an Israeli human rights organisation, is against international law, one of the most fundamental principles of which is the obligation to distinguish between those who are involved and those who are not involved in the fighting, and to avoid to the extent possible injury to those who are not involved.
For the same reason, the white phosphorus that Israel is alleged to have dropped on the al-Shuja’iya and al-Tuffah neighborhoods of Gaza City is tantamount to a war crime. Israel used white phosphorous extensively in its 2008/9 Operation Cast Lead invasion, as reported by Human Rights Watch.
Gaza's Al Shifa Hospital has found evidence of DIME wounds to civilians in the current Israeli attack, and the Al Ray Media Agency claims proof of their use. DU has been widely used in Israeli shells and other ammunition for many years.
All of these weapons are being used against civilians in Gaza, and not for the first time. International conventions, protocols and agreements prohibit their use in war zones. But the bombardment of Gaza is not a war. It is murder on an industrial scale and, what is even worse, an attempt at generational genocide. In the words of the former Minister of Internal Security and Shin Bet director, Avi Dichter: "Gaza should be wiped clean with bombs."
On 23 July, the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights Navi Pillay said, "Israel's military actions in Gaza could amount to war crimes. There seems to be a strong possibility that international law has been violated."
If history is anything to go by, Israel will not be held to account for for these crimes, any more than it has in the past, and it will continue to use with impunity the terrifying weapons described above, in its endless war on Palestinians and occupation of their land.
David Wilson can be contacted through his website: www.davidwilson.org.uk
Source: Stop the War Coalition