Rise of Social Media Campaigns: Personal, trustworthy, and immediate

When the ALS Ice-Bucket challenge was taking the world by storm, a different kind of bucket challenge drew the attention of Nepali youth: #FillTheBucket, a campaign where you donate a bucket with essentials like food, water purifier, sanitary napkins, etc for flood victims. Hot on the heels of the global sensation ALS Ice Bucket Challenge which received support as well as criticism for wastage of water, #FillTheBucket became quite popular in Nepal.

The use of social media for social campaigns is on the rise these days, with one or the other request popping up in our newsfeed every day. But only some of this content becomes viral while others are lost in the ever-renewing stream of online contents. Certain common factors underlie most of the campaigns that succeed.

The ALS Ice-Bucket challenge and #FillTheBucket challenge, both conducted primarily on social media, share many similarities (apart from the ‘bucket’). Writing for The Guardian, Jack Shepherd from Buzzfeed (a site famous for viral content) claims that two kinds of content go viral: one where users can post about themselves and one to which viewers have a strong positive response. Speaking at a TED talk, YouTube Trends Manager Kevin Allocca added three more qualities of viral content, particularly videos: tastemakers (celebrities) who highlight the content, communities of sharers, and unexpectedness.

The ALS Ice-Bucket challenge scores positive on all these counts: users could post about themselves, the challenge’s association with a cause brings up positive responses, celebrities helped make it more popular, communities helped spread it, and it was definitely unexpected.

Smaller-scale media campaigns like #FillTheBucket also score positive on most of these counts. There is an overwhelming positive feeling associated with #FillTheBucket. Contributors reached out to help because they believed they were doing something good for society through their step.

“Both of these campaigns are of human interest,” says Dharma Adhikari, General Secretary of Media Foundation. As a longtime observer and chronicler of media, Adhikari has noticed that content with human interest generate a high response from viewers.

But there are also many things that set small-scale humanitarian campaigns apart. Lacking the celebrity power that drives large-scale campaigns, smaller campaigns rely heavily on little circles of intimate acquaintances, or “community of sharers”, in the words of Allocca. These campaigns are very personal.

Roshani Tamang, 28, is a recent graduate of Business Administration, was moved by the plight of the flood victims in Sindhupalchok. She started an individual drive through social media to collect money for the victims. Her drive reached only her small circle of well-known individuals, and yet she managed to collect Rs. 320,000 from them.

Even #FillTheBucket relied on personal contacts for everything from bucket collection to transportation. While most of their contributions came from personal contacts, one batch of their buckets was transported for free by Yeti Travels.

Bibek Basnet, the Managing Director of Yeti Travel, was involved in the campaign since the beginning.

Binit Shrestha, Director of the IT Company House of Innovation and one of the organizers of #FillTheBucket, calls it a “purely citizen initiative” operated by a loose network of likeminded individuals.

What is lost through absence of celebrities is made up through trust, which is a crucial factor in these campaigns.

Pema Lama, 29, is a Nepali businessman currently in Delhi. He had been hearing about the natural disasters that struck Nepal this year from newspapers and social media, and had wanted to help in some way. As soon as he learnt that Roshani was collecting money for flood victims, he sent her Rs. 32,000 through a money transfer service, no questions asked. “I’ve known Roshani since school,” says Pema. “I know the kind of person she is, and I trusted her to do the right thing with my money.”

#FillTheBucket campaign received far higher responses – more than 2,000 buckets, each costing between Rs. 1,000-2,000 on average. But even on this scale, respondents cited the credibility of the organizers as the factor that motivated them.

“I’ve known them on social media for a long time,” says Aakar Anil, 26, Internet Marketing Specialist at Cloud Factory. Anil and a few friends had contributed buckets to the campaign with the belief that it would get delivered to the right place.

“It may not be in the form we want,” says Aakar. “The relief may not reach every needy family, or their needs may be greater than what we expect, but I’m sure the organizers are doing their best.”

Organizers have taken pains to maintain that credibility. Binit is up to date with the exact number of buckets they have received, and knows where each bucket was delivered. #FillTheBucket is coordinating with the local government at Bardiya to find out the neediest locations, and with Nepal Medical College to hold health camps for the victims.

Meanwhile, Roshani has listed, photographed and preserved the accounts of each donation she has received. She visited the Sunkoshi disaster site to find out whom she could help, and came back with a list of 32 victims. These were the persons given a “red card”: persons who had lost their families as well as property. She decided to help them over other victims who had only lost property. In the end, she gave Rs. 9,500 to each of the 32 victims at a public program, and has detailed records of miscellaneous expenses made with the collected money – some of it was spent on the transportation of the victims, and a small amount given to a fund created by the victims themselves.

Thus, transparency has become the hallmark of such campaigns. Aakar reported that he is keeping up with the updates of #FillTheBucket through social media, which assures him of the safe delivery of his contribution.

As an organizer, Binit feels that immediacy was an important plus point of #FillTheBucket campaign. “When we were out there delivering our relief materials, some NGOs were still having meetings about what to do,” says Binit.

Last but not least, unexpectedness is an important part of such campaigns, and that raises a question mark on their sustainability.

“It’s nothing new for something novel to go viral, even in the days of oral media,” says Dharma. “But today, their speed is much increased due to Internet.”

Every new form of media has gone viral in its time, Dharma lists among them email, facebook, twitter. Specific applications on all these media have also gone viral, because they too need to be updated to be always on the edge.

“#FillTheBucket was able to garner so much attention also partly because it piggybacked on the virality of the Ice-Bucket challenge right on time,” says Aakar.

But once the novelty factor fades, users get tired and are ready to hop on to the next bandwagon.

At the moment, individuals involved in one social campaign have done so with the intention of seeing it through. Binit updates that they are now revising the list of essentials in the bucket, because their original assumptions were not informed by the ground reality. For example, most flood victims did not know how to use sanitary pads or canned foods, and since health camps are being organized, medicines are redundant. Binit and his friends intend to work with the revised list and continue helping as long as they can.

But whether or not future campaigns initiated through social media can succeed is a matter of speculation. While Aakar believes that he will be ready to join campaigns for the right causes, Dharma opines that with social media, there is no telling what will happen next. Indeed, when you are wondering what the next viral campaign will be, expect the unexpected, which is the most important identifier of viral content.

Published in Republica on September 12

The light and the dark of it all: our obsession with fairness

I’m the kind of Shahrukh Khan fan who has stuck with him through all kinds of horrendous movies like ‘Hum Tumhare Hain Sanam’ (which nobody remembers) and ‘Shakti: the Power’ (which everyone cringes to remember). But come 2007, I was almost ready to chuck my first love into the dustbin. Because Shahrukh Khan, of all people, had chosen to promote a men’s fairness cream, the first men’s cream of the sort!

Being born with wheatish skin, I don’t take fairness lightly (pun intended). Anyone who tries to steer me towards the fairness cream aisle was on the other side of the battle line. And all I could think when I saw Shahrukh Khan transforming from a grimy hunk to a pale (and for me, unflattering) shadow of his former self was: Et tu, Brutus? It didn’t help one bit that the cream was a runaway success, inspiring dozens of brands and stars to follow. I had no heart to gloat over how trailblazing my hero was. Because fighting the stigma of darkness is an uphill battle everyday, and he had just made things (more than slightly) harder by promoting fairness.

Thankfully, I had never thought my dark skin any less than fair skin. All the backhanded compliments that came my way (‘Kali bhayepani ramri’) made me feel more annoyed than inferior. Since my sister and I looked almost like twins, we joked that we were photocopies of each other. Some smartass had to come up with the punch line that no, I was in fact a carbon copy of my fair sister, never mind that I came into the world first. But since I found this joke funny and began sharing it with everyone, it kind of lost the punch for the jokester, which was quite fine by me.

But that doesn’t mean that being dark didn’t have its share of frustrations in our fairness-obsessed society. An entirely single teenage wasn’t easy on an already insecure youngster at an age when the slightest hurt can bruise the self-esteem deeply. I didn’t think to focus on my antisocial personality—which included a devastating dress sense and poor-to-none conversation skills—improving which would’ve done me much more good. Instead, I looked to the mirror for the answer to why, why, why, no boy ever found me worth half a look even until the ripe age of 22.

I never considered using fairness cream, because having a first crush who was very dark ensured that I always thought of dark as beautiful. But I felt that other people (read boys around me) didn’t share this view. This caused me to resent vapid boys who couldn’t look beyond the skin, boys in general (they must be all equally shallow!), friends who had healthy love lives (they don’t realize how shallow their love life is), fair friends in general (Oh, they think the world of themselves because they are fair!), and ultimately, the notion of romance itself. And that’s not a very healthy state of mind to be in, whatever age you are.

I was aware that dark-skinned women around me faced graver problems than lack of a date. Ushma Verma*, a 27-year-old management graduate, is often told by friends that she’s a black beauty. But her relatives aren’t so forgiving, and keep telling her parents that since she’s so dark, she should be married off soon. Since complexion is very important in Ushma’s community, they worry that she won’t get a groom.

Another friend of mine, who has a light wheatish skin that cannot even be classified as dark, shared her experience of inferiority complex during childhood. Nisha* hated being called kali, and would fight with anyone who dared to call her so. Another friend, Sapana, started using fairness cream because she felt that clothes don’t match well with dark skin.

Advertisements of fairness cream seem to be the connecting factor here, subtly influencing youngsters to believe that their natural skin isn’t good enough. A women had to be fair to get a job (even that of a cricket commentator, if one remembers a memorable ad starring then newbie Genelia D’Souza), to get to dance in the front (it doesn’t matter if you dance like an ape, you just need to be fair), to find true love (again, personality doesn’t count, only your rank on the fairness meter does), and even to be powerful (I remember a most annoying fairness cream ad with the tagline ‘Sundarta Shakti Hai’, yes, that’s the only kind of shakti we want our girls to aspire to having).

And if there’s any doubt to the power of these advertisements, one just need to look at the number of people using fairness creams, even those who are naturally fair.

Neeta Limbu, 25, is a student with a radiantly fair complexion. And yet, she’s been using L’Oreal fairness cream for over four years.

“Of course, I want to be fair. Who doesn’t?” she asks and continues to say that she hopes the cream will make her already fair skin more fair and attractive.

Sapana agrees that without these ads, she may have looked for options but wouldn’t have had the information about how to become fair. And looking back, I blame these ads more than anything else for my recurring bouts of insecurity about complexion.

When I went to the US, it was a relief to find these ads replaced by those for tanning creams. A friend from Ecuador remarked that she couldn’t understand why anybody wanted to be fair, when she tried all day in the sun to tan her skin! The hiatus helped strengthen my own ideas of beauty and heal my ideas about relationships.

But when I came back after four years, all prepared to fight the idealizing of fairness, I was shocked to see that the fight had gotten much harder. Now there are not only fairness creams for the face, but fairness body showers, fairness products for specific body parts (underarms, back, under-eye, you name it), fairness moisturizing lotions, fairness creams for specific age groups (teens and anti-ageing), for winter, for nights, and last but not the least, for intimate areas. The last one made me cringe, like really, does complexion really affect the quality of intimacy?

Dermatologist Dr. DB Pokharel informs that such cosmetics do work, but on a temporary basis. “They can’t make a naturally dark person fair,” he says. “But they do enhance a person’s complexion by making it brighter.” If used for a longer period without consulting a doctor, they may even harm the skin. Steroids have the side-effects of increasing hair growth while some creams are known the make the skin patchy. And none of them “goes deep into the layers to give your lasting fairness,” because all such chemicals work on the top layer of the skin called epidermis.

Despite these health risks, the explosion of these products tells us that this sector is booming, and men’s fairness cream segment is rapidly growing. One can only imagine the effects that messages have on impressionable young minds, especially when they are backed up by their favorite stars.

It’s not easy to keep your spirits up with people trying to prove that only fair is beautiful. But there are ways. They may call my complexion dark, but I prefer to call it ‘golden brown’ or ‘honey’ or ‘olive,’ which makes it sound exotic and happy. And we need more people like Ushma to resist her community’s pressures for early marriage on the basis of her complexion. She’s looking for someone who doesn’t go for outer beauty, but “knows the quality of diamonds.”

*Name changed

Published in Republica on September 5

Menstruation practices in urban households

Chhaupadi, where menstruating women are made to live in sheds away from their homes, is a much-derided tradition in Western Nepal. But most Hindu families, even urban ones, continue to follow some form of menstrual segregation. Though most of these traditions are not as extreme as Chhaupadi, they discomfit young women to a large degree.

Mina Paudel, 66, was raised in a tradition where a girl was kept inside a closed room for 11 days during her first period, and not even allowed to see the sun. She ate separately from the family, washed her own dishes, slept on the ground, and took care to avoid being seen by elders when they were eating because even the sight of a menstruating woman was inauspicious. She raised her two daughters in a similar culture, though not as extreme as her own times.

Such rituals which older generations consider to be normal can shock or even scandalize young people.

“Once, my grandmother sprinkled water on herself because my shadow fell on her,” remembers Kumuda, Mina’s granddaughter. When she menstruates, Kumuda, 27, a teacher at British College, prefers to stay in her room because she dislikes seeing women gather their sari around them and give her a wide berth. Some other extreme practices include women not being allowed to touch plants because they would wither and die. Mina asserts that she has seen a Parijat tree dying after it was touched by a menstruating woman.

And most families do not allow menstruating women to enter the kitchen.

“If I’m forced to ask someone else for water in my own house, it makes me feel bad. It would definitely be better if I was able to do it myself,” says Sushma Puri, 21, a student.

But despite the fact that it makes them feel like strangers in their own home, most young women opt to stay out of the kitchen so as not to offend the feelings of the older generation.

“Elderly people, once set in their ways, are difficult to deal with,” says Saurav Satyal, 28, Kumuda’s husband, reflecting the change in male members of the family.

While Mina’s husband Madhav, 76, would like menstruating women to stay apart, Saurav believes these rituals have no meaning today.

“It’s something that as men, we don’t experience. We often don’t know what goes on, and if these rituals were discontinued, it wouldn’t bother me,” he says. Often, it is the women of the family who enforce these rules on their juniors while the other members may be oblivious to the whole ritual if they are not observant.

Women who practice this segregation cite Hindu Dharmashastras as the reason for their actions. Bharati Gautam, 70, a retired teacher, has her own way of justifying it.

“Lord Indra was afflicted with the sin of Brahmahatya. And since women are loving and nurturing, they could not bear to see men suffer. They took a fourth of the sin upon themselves,” she explains.

Gautam believes our ancestors were scientific people who introduced rational practices, including menstruations rituals. As justification for segregation during menstruation, she claims that children conceived during menstruation are born disabled. It is decidedly an unscientific belief, considering that conception is not possible during menstruation. Even so, such warnings had a deep impact on the minds of young girls when they had no other source of knowledge about their reproductive functions.

When quizzed if a natural biological phenomenon can be called a “sin” on the basis of an age-old story, Gautam answers that she is from a transitional generation. Her faith is questioned by modern reason, but she cannot bring herself to desert it.

In fact, the “transitional generation” spans several age groups. Their beliefs are so pervasive and deep-rooted that younger women have also internalized them. Many young women are suspended in the same limbo as Bharati: they do not know exactly why they follow the tradition, but stick to it because of an unnamed fear of breaking tradition. Even though she dislikes these rituals, Sushma does not go and touch things in the kitchen when she is menstruating. She is scared that something bad will happen. And even the most modern women profess no desire to approach the pooja-room when menstruating.

But increasingly, younger women, especially those who have lived abroad and gotten used to cooking during menstruation, think beyond these traditional frames and instead focus on how the rituals affect them. Kumuda remembers the humiliation it inflicted on her. “I was once asked to stay outside under a tree for an hour because there was a pooja going on at home,” she recounts an incident.

Not only does it limit your mobility, but it means that everyone in the vicinity knows that you are menstruating. At a time when they are hypersensitive to what people think about them, such experiences can be humiliating for teenagers struggling to come to terms with their physical changes. The fact that they are going through pain, cramps, and mood swings during menstruation makes it worse. Being barred from many areas of the house, including the kitchen, they are often unable to help themselves through the sickness, increasing their frustrations.

With time, the harsh effects these rituals have on your emotions fade away, and women learn to work around these rules. Even though she loves her grandparents, Kumuda would rather avoid their house when she is menstruating. Not only is she made to eat outside of the kitchen in the hallway, but she cannot enter the living room because setting her foot on the carpet will “pollute” the entire room.

“I think I may be getting used to these rules, which hurt me less than they used to,” says Kumuda, “which is not a good thing to happen, because we should not get used to such unfair practices.”

Therefore, she tries in her own quiet way to bring about changes in her house. Even though she is well provided for during menstruation with ample food and drink, through her constant efforts more areas of the house are now open to her during menstruation than before.

Tussles between older and younger generations turn urban homes into constant battlefields, but change is slowly creeping in. The pooja-room is a strict no-no, but other areas can be negotiated. Sushma started out with sleeping on the floor during menstruation, but her two younger sisters have slept in their own beds since their first menarche. Most homes function on a sort of a midway where a compromise is sought to appease both the faith of the older generation and the logic of the younger generation.

Menstruation in myths

After Karna’s death, Krishna tells Arjuna: You have slain your Vritra. Now people will talk of this battle in the same breath as Indra’s defeat of Vritra.

Today we remember Arjun but Vritra is just one of the many half-remembered characters in our mythological jungle. But at one point, every hero was compared to Indra and every villain to Vritra.

Vritra occurs first in the Rig Veda, of which Indra is the central hero. Here the story is not linear and has to be pieced together from different verses praising Indra’s deeds. It then occurs as a coherent narrative in Mahabharata, where we are told that Indra acquired his exalted status by killing Vritra. But Vritra happened to be a Brahmin, and by his murder, Indra acquired the sin of Brahmahatya.

To free himself from the sin, Indra divided his sin into four parts and gave them to trees, water, fire and women. Women’s monthly periods is a manifestation of that sin, which is why she is considered impure during her menstruation.

This story defines menstruation as a sin, but does not lay out the rules for menstruating women that are practiced today. This was done by latter dharmashastras and Puranas. Manusmriti, the foremost law of Hindus, instructed that women would be “clean” when they bathed after menstruation. A Brahmin was not to eat any food touched by a menstruating woman. According to Vashishta Dharmashastra, menstruating women are not to be allowed to touch the fire, and even essentials like ointment are not to be accepted from them.

“After that, almost every Purana has prescribed rules for menstruating women,” says Pundit Ram Prasad Pokharel Acharya. “Our scriptures say that menstruating women are not even human. On the first day, they are Chandalini, on the second day, Brahmaghatini, and on the third day, Dhobini.” In Bhavishya Puran, Krishna informs Yudhishthira that women can cleanse themselves of the sins incurred during menstruation through the Rishi Panchami vrat.

Modern interpretations assume that menstruating women are segregated for reasons of hygiene, but in scriptures women are actually encouraged to be just the opposite. According to Vashistha Dharmashastra, these women should not bathe, should not anoint themselves with collyrium, and should not clean their teeth.

The labeling of menstruating women as “impure” seems to have little to do with their physical condition and is more important as a symbol. Manusmriti says that a Brahmin should not even look at a menstruating woman when he is eating, and “the wisdom, the energy, the strength, the sight, and the vitality of a man who approaches a woman covered with menstrual excretions, utterly perish.” A simple conversation with a menstruating woman is considered inauspicious, and hygiene is not a consideration.

The key to understanding the shaming of menstruating women lies in the story of Indra’s conquest of Vritra, which is referenced by all latter scriptures to validate women’s impurity. Vritra is identified as Ahi (snake/lizard/dragon). In many cultures across Europe and South Asia, snakes are identified with women. Conquest of snakes forms an integral part of early myths.

One of the more famous stories occurs in the Bible where Eve listens to a snake and bites an apple. For her sin, she is punished with the pain of menstruation and childbirth. Similar stories can be found in many Middle Eastern religions, now extinct. Perseus who kills the serpent-head Medusa (which means divine feminine wisdom) is heralded as the founder of a new order in Greek myths. 

Merlin Stone writes in her book When God was a Woman that these stories are proof of matriarchal civilizations that preceded the present patriarchal tradition. For example, while the latter characters in Hindu scriptures are known by their father’s name, Vritra, a Danav, is named after his mother Danu. The subjugation of such civilizations is represented by parallel stories which associate female reproductive functions with sin.

Archana Thapa, a feminist scholar, agrees that the rituals of menstruation are a means of regulating women’s behavior. “A virgin goddess is worshipped, and so is a mother. But during her fertile period, a woman is impure. This is a moral disciplinary act to suit the logic of men who made the rules,” says she. Indeed, the label of impurity restricts women from taking part in rituals, invalidates their worship, and generally reduces them to a non-entity when it comes to religious authority.

Since our earliest texts begin where matriarchal civilizations ended, they give the impression that patriarchal traditions have been with us since the dawn of time. But in fact, these texts are built on the ashes of an older one, and set up a new order: one where the power, mobility, and authority of women were systematically circumscribed by labeling their fertility “impure”.

Published in Republica on August 29

Good Girls/Bad Boys

It is said that men want a good girl who is bad only for them, and women want a bad boy who is only good for them.

When young, educated and beautiful Nihita Biswas declared her feelings for the convicted murderer Charles Shobhraj, the world was in shock. Many suspected that it was a ploy for publicity.

But not just Nihita, a lot of women are attracted to “bad boys,” though they may not be bad on the scale of Charles Gurumukh Shobhraj.

Manushi Singh, 29,* is a gentle person who finds it hard to raise her voice at anyone, and was a hardworking student at school who never got in trouble. As a child, she developed a liking for a friend. True to the characteristics of the typical bad boy, her crush was self-absorbed and did not give her emotional support. But still, Manushi spent much of her second decade pining over him.

In retrospect, her actions seems illogical to her, she considers the decade of her emotional efforts wasted. But back then, they made perfect sense.

“Me being an introvert, I was attracted to his confidence and extroverted personality,” says Manushi as she tries to remember what motivated her then. “He was everything I wasn’t. I hoped that by being with him, I too would change and learn to express myself, experience new feelings.”

Many young girls echo Manushis’s feelings. Society expects girls to be good, which curbs their desires for fun, romance, adventure, daring. Bad boys provide a way to break out of this limited mold.

“At that point, I felt that it was my way of of rebelling,” says Manushi. Tame coffee dates pale in comparison to the thrills they provide, whether it is riding through a jungle or a secret midnight meeting. Besides, it is a surefire boost of confidence to be desired by someone who is popular, as bad boys usually are. They come across as confident, strong personalities, which is very attractive.

Nikki Shakya, 33, another typical good girl who came first in class, hated the boy who came in second. Even in grade 9, he was very popular with the girls, and to Nikki he seemed to be a showoff. He did no care much for rules. And yet, she confesses that she must have been subconsciously attracted to him, because when he admitted his love for her, she accepted. One of the incidents that made an impression on her was that when they were still in school, her boyfriend warned a teacher, who seemed interested in her, to stay away. “If you feel safe with a person, it’S attractive” says Nikki.

Studies have consistently shown that women find men who possess the “Dark Triad” characteristics – narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy – highly attractive. Narcissism and Machiavellianism are negatively associated with agreeableness and emotional sensitivity, which fit our traditional image of masculinity. Besides, it gives them an aura of mystery which amps up the desirability quotient.

“Everything they do, the clothes they wear, the behavior they exhibit, are almost like a natural aphrodisiac,” says Nikki who is a Staff Grade Psychiatrist at National Health Services (NHS), Sheffield, UK.sHE is happy with her bad boy who is still spontaneous and impulsive as before.

But the attraction to bad boys may have a dark side for many others. There are many women who go for men with criminal tendencies.

Such women are seen to do so for the material benefits, like money and lavish lifestyle. But there are many internal causes behind such choices, and our background has a large role in shaping our romantic choices, whether criminal or otherwise. Women with a history of trauma or loss in the family go for similar men. It may be that one of her ancestors was attracted to a similar man, or that there was such a man in her family.

“Women with indifferent or abusive fathers grow up knowing only that kind of men,” says Karuna Kunwar, Psychologist at the Center for Mental Health and Counseling. Our romantic choices are deeply connected to our past. “This is the only language they understand,” informs Nikki. And in fact, such women may be uncomfortable around nicer men.

Karuna also informed that the genetic makeup of one woman gets passed down through generations, and a woman subconsciously shows loyalty to her ancestor. However, the passing of genetic code may be selective, so only one out of four daughters may imitate her mother’s life choices. It may also skip generations, and a grandmother’s tendencies may show up only in the granddaughter.

Some women extricate themselves from this cycle, and some don’t. “The brain is still developing until you are 28 years of age,” informs Karuna. So a lot of women learn to analyze the bad decisions they made in teenage. But others fall for the same kind of men again and again, and are unable to extricate themselves from abusive relationships.

The cycle of love, fear and threat is one thing that binds women in such relationships. The man in question does express love to the woman in one way or another, and the woman keeps going back to the memory to confirm that she is loved. She fears that she may not get the same things elsewhere, and in men with criminal tendencies, threats are also part of the equation. “The woman reasons that since she’s definitely loved, everything the man does, even the threats, he does out of love for her,” explains Karuna.

Such relationships, though they may appear abnormal to outsiders, make perfect sense to the woman in question. For example, former beauty queen Khusbu Oli was recently in the news for her affair with a noted gangster. She claimed that she was going to change him and convert him to a good person, which she had also claimed of her former boyfriend who used to be a drug addict.

“Society tells us that women have that power to change men. Since this is what teenagers see in popular media, they tend to believe they have that capacity too,” says Karuna. It also boosts her confidence, self-image, and self-esteem if she is able to accomplish it. But often, it is seen that women are instead left disappointed when the man in question does not change. “If a woman changes five out a hundred men, it’s no more than coincidence,” says Karuna. “More often than not, women lack the technical skills to perform this kind of change.”

With bad boys, there is always the risk of danger, whether emotional or physical. But often, the danger is just part of the thrill. When Nikki went to Pokhara with her boyfriend without letting their parents know, she was definitely scared. But just the fact he flew her so far away without telling anyone was a thrill, which bonded her even more to her boyfriend. In the words of George RR Martin in his book A Dance with Dragons, “You could plant seeds in mud and grow a crop. Mud will nourish you. Fire will only consume you. But fools and children and young girls will choose fire every time.”

The Dark Triad

A collection of the following personality traits, at a high rate, is believed to be very attractive to women. But high concentration of such traits is also associated with criminal behavior.

Narcissism

Named after the mythical Greek character Narcissus who fell in love with his own reflection, Narcissism is defined as obsession with self, ego, and vanity. Such persons are very self-centered.

Machiavellianism

This personality trait gets its name from the Italian historian Machiavelli, renowned for his cunning strategies. This trait is distinguished by manipulation, double standards, and competitiveness.

Psychopathy

This difficult to spot trait is characterized by a lack of empathy and conscience. But psychopaths are known to appear normal and even charming, which means they are not easy to identify.

Published in Republica on August 22, 2014

In a manner of speaking: brutal honesty versus soft skills

“I was raised right – I talk about people behind their backs. It's called manners.” 

Kathy Griffin, American actress and comedian

Jessica Sharma*, 19, is a child of Nepali parents and was born and raised in the US. Every time she comes to Nepal, she is faced by a barrage of bad manners (as defined by Kathy Griffin).  People have no qualms telling her to her face about her undesirable weight, and sometimes too Americanized manners. “They look at me and ask if I eat my sister’s share,” says Jessica, whose younger sister is quite skinny. But at the opposite end, her mother, who had decided to shape up by exercising, is asked if she lost weight due to diabetes.

Jessica is tired of such extreme comments about personal issues. “Maybe it is a way of socializing, but such brutal honesty is hard to adjust with,” she laments.  

Indeed, how often have we walked into a room with a new outfit, only to be told that it does not suit us? We are all used to those unsolicited comments about personal taste in hair, makeup, books, movies, and even relationships. 

But whether or not we find such personal comments offensive also depends on the cultural context. Rudra Pandey, 50, has lived in the US for more than twenty years, but travels to Nepal several times a year. “Here in Nepal, we get too personal and start talking about weight, property, etc,” he says. Rudra has noticed that in Nepal these topics are normal and some people even like being asked about such things. But in the US, “If you meet someone in the elevator, you talk about the weather,” says Pandey. Such a neutral topic is in no danger of offending anyone. 

Such consideration, however, may be rare to find. Bride to be Sarina Manandhar,* 29, was coached on personal manners by someone she had considered a friend. “I was just telling this friend about the issues I had in my marital life,” says Sarina, “when he instead turned on me and started advising me on how to conduct myself at my in-laws’ place, how to be subservient to my husband, and how to behave so that my husband is not slighted in public.” And this included a tattoo she had got just before getting married: he believed she should have gotten her fiancé’s permission before getting herself inked. Such personal comments turned Sarina off from her friend, especially since they were unsought. 

In personal life, such comments may simply sour relationships for a while, but in professional life they may prove to be disastrous.  As CEO of Deerwalk Inc., Rudra coaches his employees on avoiding such issues. “Wherever you work, you work in a group,” he explained. “You are either leading a group or are cooperating with others. And if you do not know how to deal with people, you cannot progress in the workplace.” 

For Rudra, the key is to present yourself in a manner that is liked by the other person. Though manners may be dependent on culture, making the other person feel good is a universally admired skill. “Don’t ask too many personal questions, respect others, and talk well of them,” are some of his handy tips. 

These tips work most of the time but backfire sometimes because of our discomfort with complements. Whenever anyone praises Shaili G.C., she either blushes, or turns the complement back on the giver, telling them they must have got it wrong. Not just Shaili, but many people are in the habit of dismissing compliments. They may completely ignore compliments, or go to lengths like insulting themselves (how can a person like me be so good?) or transferring the credit to something else (it must be the lighting) to avoid being complemented. 

“Inferiority complex kicks in, and I wonder if the other person really means what they say,” says Shaili, 29, a software professional. Besides, there is also the issue of modesty. “There is the pressure to be humble,” Shaili explained. Since we are brought up to be self-effacing and not appear vain, we are afraid that accepting a compliment may look like we are praising ourselves.

Rudra actually lists modesty as a good trait. “If you go to an Ivy League school, you are not supposed to boast about it,” he explained. “You also need to let the other person talk and give them the opportunity to ask you questions.” But modesty, when taken to unnatural lengths, can again be damaging as seen in Shaili’s example.

Avoiding offence and maintaining modesty at the same time is a fine balancing act. Several organizations have sprouted in Nepal that coach people on these skills in the professional arena. Raju Adhikari, an administrator at Soft Skill Training Nepal, explains that they provide interpersonal trainings of various natures, but that progress was slow. “It takes longer time to develop soft skills than core professional skills,” says Adhikari. “It is not like learning computer skills, which are measurable. Years may pass before the results show.”

At a personal level, the learning of such skills is not even measurable because it means the shift of an entire culture, and that is a slow process. Some day we may all learn to speak without offending others, but until then, it may be helpful to keep in mind an etiquette tip for Victorian ladies: “No topic of absorbing interest may be admitted to polite conversation. It might lead to discussion.”

How to give complements

·        Be specific

Generic words like “good” or “nice” lead the other person to believe that you are just saying them for the sake of saying something. If you specify the thing you like most (the color of their top), it will make you sound sincere.

·        Avoid comparisons

Comparing the recipient’s many attributes and complementing only one (I like your red top more than the blue one) may reduce the value of the complement, so it is best to avoid it.

·        Avoid judgments

When you judge the recipient’s decision (I would not have liked it if you wore the red top to a meeting, but it looks fine today), you imply that the complement is only valid because it meets your standards. 

How to take complements

·        Say Thank You

You may not believe that the other person genuinely means what they say. But if someone makes the effort of going out of the way to make you feel good, the least you can do is return the courtesy by saying thank you.

·        Be Specific

This tip is as useful to the receiver of the complement as to the giver. Point out what exactly you like about their complement (Thank you, I am glad you appreciate my effort).

Published in Republica on August 8, 2014

Niche religious cults

Sanjay Sai Baba is seated at the end of an open hall that can easily seat a thousand people. Hundreds of people line up every week for his darshan. Though he is just 26, men and women far older than him address him with honorary titles.

Swami Kamal Nayanacharya’s sprawling ashram in Bhaktapur is a favourite haunt of the country’s bigwigs, including politicians like Pushpa Kamal Dahal, Sher Bahadur Deuba, and several businessmen.

Though she does not have so grand an ashram, Ma Lalita’s* humble home is continuously filled with women. They believe that the simple powders she gives them after ‘fuk-fak’ solves all their problems, whether material or spiritual.

Self-proclaimed religious and spiritual leaders attract many people in our society. The leaders may be little known, like a mataji possessed by a Devi who lives at the corner of your street, or they may be famous, like Sanjay Sai Baba or Swami Kamal Nayanacharya, with ashrams and pet social service projects of their own. But devotees who seek out these leaders are looking for the same thing: spiritual satisfaction that transcends this world.

Ravi Giri, 37, who has been a devotee of Sanjay Sai Baba for more than ten years, believes he gains spiritual merit by his devotion. “Whatever I do in the outside world only serves to enlarge my ego,” says Giri, an actor. “If I come here, my arrogance is destroyed and I’m humbled.”

“People who walk the spiritual path are different from others,” says Dhruba Kumar Timsina, country coordinator of Sahaja Yoga, a spiritual organization. “They live life according to their own experiences and not really according to that of the material world.”

Sahaja Yoga is an informal network that practices novel forms of yoga. Its followers raise their kundalini chakras with the help of their hands instead of doing traditional yoga.

“In Sahaja Yoga, you don’t need to focus on breathing or on contorting the body like in traditional yoga,” says Timsina. “Kundalini chakras can be activated simply by the action of the hands that create positive vibrations as we sit.”

People who seek out such alternate religious niches share another characteristic: faith in the leadership or guidance of a particular person. Timsina informed that whenever followers of Sahaja Yoga met, they did so in front of a picture of their deceased leader, Shrimata Nirmala Devi. “At first, she was a teacher,” said Timsina. “Later, as we delved deeper into the movement, she became our god, the meaning of our entire lives.”

Similar faith in leaders is expressed by devotees of other groups, too.

Sandhya Panta, 45, confirms that she feels immense contentment when she just looks at Sai Baba. “All my problems melt away and I’m at peace when I see his face,” she said.

Extensive studies have been done in the western world on cults, which are religious organizations built around a single, charismatic leader. Cults like Scientology have become (in)famous. But not many studies have been done on cult psychology in the Hindu world, though there are studies on specific cults like the Aghoris, or on new religious leaders like Sai Baba.

But still, niche religious groups in Nepal do share certain characteristics with Western cults. One of them, mentioned above, is the faith in a charismatic leader. Leaders of such organizations are idolized to the point of deification. A picture of Sanjay Sai Baba’s feet peeking out from under saffron robes graces many a facebook page, and devotees line up for the opportunity to worship his feet. The feet of Shrimata Nirmala Devi, founder of Sahajayoga, are likewise worshipped by devotees. In fact, her followers believe that unless they perform their yoga in front of her photo, they do not get the results of their yoga.

Another characteristic of cults is the discouragement of independent thinking and encouragement of belief in the leadership. Sanjay Sai Baba is heard to urge followers not to question with the mind, but to have faith with the heart.

Yet another characteristic of cults is exclusivity. Many of these groups claim that they are the “one true path” to liberation, heaven, or spiritual fulfillments while they condemn other paths as “ignorance.” Sahaj Yoga’s followers believe that Shrimataji found ways to activate the kundalini chakras that no yoga experts or even classic books have ever done.

Besides, devotees of these religious groups also share characteristics with cult followers. They are most often going though stress from their immediate surroundings. They seek guidance, the capacity to tell right from wrong and emotional space. People turn to religious leaders when they find nothing in the world that can satisfy them.

Cults like Scientology are taken as dangerous in mainstream society because of their reputation for mind control, and their active pursuit of converts. Similar characteristics are found in Nepali cults as well. Followers of cults claim to be “utterly transformed” by their experience which hints at mind control techniques, after which they start preaching their cult and convincing others to join.

But in our society, such religious leaders are not taken as threat to the social order.

“Such groups disseminate a form of religion that is understood by the masses,” says Yubaraj Luintel, Professor of Sociology at TU. “As such, they engage a large mass of people in harmless activities that are broadly positive.”

Eastern cults differ from western ones in one significant aspect: While western cults challenge authority and create their own worldview, eastern cults have very conservative religious and social values. Sanjay Sai Baba preaches renunciation of greed and selfishness, while Ma Lalita stresses cleanness and purity, values advocated by traditional Hindu scriptures. Different individuals have different social needs. These groups coexist with the dominant worldview and cater to all kinds of religious needs.

*name changed

Nepal’s very own Sai Baba?

After Sathya Sai Baba gained popularity in India, there has been a virtual deluge of Sai Baba look-alikes in India and abroad who claim a share of the devotion reserved for Sai Baba. They either claim to be Sai Baba or a new religious leader who just coincidentally happens to look like Sai Baba. Nepal has had its very own claimant to the position for about ten years.

Sanjay Sai Baba currently has an ashram at Suryakot, Balkumari, where he gives ‘darshan’ to his devotees.

Pratap Thakkar writes in his memoir ‘Sai Tatwa’ that Sanjay Sai Baba’s hall is an exact replica of Sathya Sai Baba’s hall in Puttaparthi, India. Though its roofs are made of tin, at least a dozen chandeliers hang from the roofs at wide intervals. At the end of the hall is a raised dais decorated with several chandeliers and shining hangings in pink and gold. Sanjay Sai Baba reclines on the throne in saffron robes of the kind worn by Sathya Sai Baba.

In fact, each and every thing about Sanjay Sai Baba is a carefully crafted replica of Sathya Sai Baba. He wears the same floor-length saffron robes, has the same thoughtful pose, waves the same wave, and even has the same afro hair (though pictures can be found online of a teenaged Sanjay Sai Baba with moderately wavy hair.)

But that is not all. Sanjay Sai Baba also miraculously produces vibhoot (holy ash) on his hands from nowhere. He is also known to gift his devotees gold lockets and rings from time to time, all produced instantaneously. He has the same catchphrase as Sathya Sai Baba: Love all, serve all. The ashram has similar conservative rules as Puttaparthi: Men and women sit separately, and women must be decently clothed in kurtha salwar or sari.

Ramita Thapa, 36, lives in Belgium and has been a devotee of Sai Baba for fourteen years. Whenever she came to Nepal from Belgium, she used to visit Sai Baba at Puttaparthi, India. But about ten years ago, Ravi Giri, another devotee of Sai Baba, told her that she would not need to go to Puttaparthi, because Sai Baba had manifested in Nepal itself. “Since then I started coming here,” says Ramita.

Devotees of many colours and stripes throng the Baba’s audience halls. Ramita’s daughter Nikita, 19, is a milder devotee. “For my mom, he’s everything,” says she. “For me, not so much, but I think of him as a messenger.”

On the one hand, there is no shortage of people who claim that Sanjay Sai Baba is indeed god. “My God! He is god himself,” says Babita Mishra who mans the counter of the nearby religious bookshop. “I had so many problems before I came here, but now they are all solved.”

On the other hand, the Shri Satya Sai Seva Organization refuses to acknowledge this person. When asked if they knew about the existence of a Sai Baba in Nepal, Amar Bahadur Karki, a Sevak at the Organization, said “What if I said I was Lord Krishna? Would you believe me?” Karki made it clear that for him, Sanjay Sai Baba was an ordinary mortal.

In fact, when Sanjay Sai Baba manifested in Nepal ten years ago, Sathya Sai Baba in India was still alive. But for devotees of Sanjay Sai Baba, that does not pose a contradiction.

“Two avatars of Lord Vishnu, Ram and Parshuram, were on the earth at the same time,” says Ravi Giri. “Why can’t it be the same for Sai Baba?”

Turning the Tables: What Ails Faith Healers?

She holds court with a dozen women surrounding her, all looking at her with utmost devotion. Each one approaches her turn by turn, and puts forth her issues.

“My husband left me,” says one. “When will he come back, Mother?”

Ma Lalita* takes a plateful of rice grains, tinkles them on the platter one by one, and answers: “He’ll be back after Dashain.”

Ma Lalita claims to see these answers “with inner eyes.” She reminds her devotees from time to time that she is divine – she is possessed by gods on Saturdays. “I’m just an ordinary mortal, so don’t ask me how I know such things. Come and seek the answers when gods are within me,” she says.

Psychologist Karuna Kunwar at the Center for Mental Health and Counseling thinks otherwise. “They are never unconscious, even when they claim to know nothing,” says Kunwar. “It’s all a conscious act.”

Kunwar has counseled many faith healers during her career, and she informs that women who claim to be possessed have similar histories. They have had a very stressful childhood which more often than not includes physical or sexual abuse, which leads to a depressed adulthood. Only some depressed women become devis and matas, and certain characteristics set them apart: They have low self-esteem and few coping mechanisms, they are unable to think or plan into the future and think of their present circumstances as insurmountable.

Ma Lalita revealed that she had always wanted to get away from the physical world and gain mukti. She had not wanted to get married. After she gave birth to her first child at 17, she became unconscious and went into a coma for a long time. She was even diagnosed with psychological disorders, but could not be cured. Later, a religious healer (janne manchhe) recognized that she was actually possessed by a goddess.

Being possessed becomes a way of coping with problems. “You can’t abuse a deity,” says Kunwar. She cited a case where a teenage girl became possessed and directed her family to marry her to a certain boy—the family being in no mood to listen when the girl was an ordinary mortal. Thus, divine possession brought them power.

This way of coping, called Conversion Disorder, manifests itself differently in different cultures. The symptoms are completely different in Western countries. A person may claim to be paralyzed even if there is nothing wrong with him medically, and he will be unable to walk. “The disorder takes this form because other outlets to cope aren’t available to them,” informs Kunwar.

In South Asia, women are possessed by culturally strong deities in which their immediate family or community put their faith. At first, Ma Lalita was possessed by Maha Laxmi – she lives near the Maha Laxmisthan in Patan. Today, she is possessed by any deity that devotees may want to talk to.

The beginning of possession is a well meditated act. They are concerned that their possession should not look fake. Hence, they secretly learn about religious rituals or gods so that their trance is convincing. They may even learn techniques of healing to convince people of their divinity. Their learning is different from that of traditional faith healers, like jhankris, who usually learn from predecessors and may not claim divine possession. But matas are unable to tell anyone, even their parents or spouses, that their possession is an act.

Many healers who come to Kunwar do so because they feel guilty about their act.

“Also, their primary problems like stress and low self-esteem never really go away,” says Kunwar. She further informs that people who frequent these healers share similar characteristics – low self-esteem, few coping mechanisms, and inability to plan the future. Indeed, Ma Lalita was able to connect excellently with her devotees, telling each person that theirs was a hard life.

Conversion Disorder, previously also called hysteria, is also seen in men, though less frequently. Worldwide, nine out of ten people with Conversion Disorder are women. Most societies restrict women from ventilating their feelings and give few viable ways out of undesirable situations, which is believed to be the reason they seek such outlandish solutions.

*Name changed

Published in Republica on August 1