Yoni Ki Baat: A celebration of South Asian Women in the
Diaspora
Women at the crossroads
Diaspora
Women at the crossroads
| Heidi M. Pascual* Publisher & Editor * 2006 Journalist of the Year for the State of Wisconsin (U.S.-SBA) |
| For more Asian American stories in Wisconsin, click: |
(Counterclockwise from top left)
Ayeshah Emon; Snigdha Singh
(co-directors); Amberine Huda; Borna
Ghosh; Deepshika Ramanan; Sayani
Chattopadhyay; Smita Agrawal; Farah
Elakhaoui; and Sonia Meyers starred
in this first-ever monologues of South
Asian women in Diaspora, on the topic
of sexuality.
Ayeshah Emon; Snigdha Singh
(co-directors); Amberine Huda; Borna
Ghosh; Deepshika Ramanan; Sayani
Chattopadhyay; Smita Agrawal; Farah
Elakhaoui; and Sonia Meyers starred
in this first-ever monologues of South
Asian women in Diaspora, on the topic
of sexuality.
By Heidi M. Pascual
Laaga Chunari Mein Daag (My veil is blemished)
... I am my honor: I am my veil: I am the blemish on the veil.
My veil is polluted: the veil that was as pure as my body.
How will I look into my father’s eyes?
How will I go home?
... Stunned. I stand.
Speechless. I stand.
Confident. I stand.
Above is part of the poem in the program that reflected South Asia
Forum’s “Yoni Ki Baat” (Talk of the Vagina) performance at Memorial
Union’s Play Circle Theater on April 11. Directed and produced by
Ayeshah Emon and Snigdha Singh, Yoni Ki Baat focused on a very
delicate issue: the challenge faced by South Asian women in America
who were brought up by traditional parents with beliefs and values that
run counter to western ways. This performance was a very bold act by
the whole production crew, composed of South Asian women who are
either Hindu or Muslim. It was probably the first of its kind in Madison,
Wis.
While Yoni Ki Baat was an artistic performance, the experiences
told were very real. The young women portrayed were caught in the
middle of two cultures, yet in the end they have chosen to be free from
the ‘bondage’ of their or their parents’ past. Some monologues were
humorous, but others were extremely painful and serious. Yoni Ki Baat
will surely hit some sensitive nerves, yet its message ought to be told,
discussed and understood.
Below are snippets of each act:
"Silence and the Word” (by Mary Anne Mohanraj), performed by
Amberine Huda (UW-Madison sophomore, Posse scholar,
singer/songwriter)
“In the dark, she managed to spell out “Will you go down on me?’ … I
was raised to be polite … In the end, I don’t want to be polite with my
lover. … Is it because we’re not supposed to like sex? Is that a speck of
my mother hovering in the background listening as I said those scary
words? Am I hearing the echoes of all those years of: ‘Don’t look! Don’t
touch! Don’t do! [strong Indian accent]… So that if I do, I do it quietly,
in secret, in the dark, under the covers.”
“No One Can See it My Way” (by Jasleen Dhillon), performed by
Deepshika Ramananan (UW-Physiology lab employee; dancer)
“You think because I am Indian, I am innocent? That I don’t know any
better? And that I haven’t seen the world? Yeah, I was pretty sheltered,
but I have travelled to far-off places. … It feels nice to be considered
exotic, but I’ve had my taste of your alluring fantasy world. .. There’s a
lot you don’t know about me. I got to say you know how to have fun, but
f***! I wasted so much of my time because I felt sad that you wasted so
much of yours! … A girl whose parents both went through so much sh**
it still gets her choked up today here in America.”
“Superhero” (by Sheba Karim), performed by Sonia Meyers (UW-M.D.,
grad student in art history)
“Puberty turned out to be a sick joke that transformed me into a weird,
hairy dork, whose parents didn’t understand what the big deal was. By
the time I was 14, I was made up of glasses, braces, head gear, a
mustache, bushy eyebrows, acne, and heavy periods. … Asher … he
was my first crush. … Asher started laughing. … ‘You have a stripe of
hair that goes all the way down your back,’ Asher said. … This would not
have happened if I were more White. First God (gave me) a curse ... by
making me brown and then by giving me this stripe. I was a skunk girl!”
Laaga Chunari Mein Daag (My veil is blemished)
... I am my honor: I am my veil: I am the blemish on the veil.
My veil is polluted: the veil that was as pure as my body.
How will I look into my father’s eyes?
How will I go home?
... Stunned. I stand.
Speechless. I stand.
Confident. I stand.
Above is part of the poem in the program that reflected South Asia
Forum’s “Yoni Ki Baat” (Talk of the Vagina) performance at Memorial
Union’s Play Circle Theater on April 11. Directed and produced by
Ayeshah Emon and Snigdha Singh, Yoni Ki Baat focused on a very
delicate issue: the challenge faced by South Asian women in America
who were brought up by traditional parents with beliefs and values that
run counter to western ways. This performance was a very bold act by
the whole production crew, composed of South Asian women who are
either Hindu or Muslim. It was probably the first of its kind in Madison,
Wis.
While Yoni Ki Baat was an artistic performance, the experiences
told were very real. The young women portrayed were caught in the
middle of two cultures, yet in the end they have chosen to be free from
the ‘bondage’ of their or their parents’ past. Some monologues were
humorous, but others were extremely painful and serious. Yoni Ki Baat
will surely hit some sensitive nerves, yet its message ought to be told,
discussed and understood.
Below are snippets of each act:
"Silence and the Word” (by Mary Anne Mohanraj), performed by
Amberine Huda (UW-Madison sophomore, Posse scholar,
singer/songwriter)
“In the dark, she managed to spell out “Will you go down on me?’ … I
was raised to be polite … In the end, I don’t want to be polite with my
lover. … Is it because we’re not supposed to like sex? Is that a speck of
my mother hovering in the background listening as I said those scary
words? Am I hearing the echoes of all those years of: ‘Don’t look! Don’t
touch! Don’t do! [strong Indian accent]… So that if I do, I do it quietly,
in secret, in the dark, under the covers.”
“No One Can See it My Way” (by Jasleen Dhillon), performed by
Deepshika Ramananan (UW-Physiology lab employee; dancer)
“You think because I am Indian, I am innocent? That I don’t know any
better? And that I haven’t seen the world? Yeah, I was pretty sheltered,
but I have travelled to far-off places. … It feels nice to be considered
exotic, but I’ve had my taste of your alluring fantasy world. .. There’s a
lot you don’t know about me. I got to say you know how to have fun, but
f***! I wasted so much of my time because I felt sad that you wasted so
much of yours! … A girl whose parents both went through so much sh**
it still gets her choked up today here in America.”
“Superhero” (by Sheba Karim), performed by Sonia Meyers (UW-M.D.,
grad student in art history)
“Puberty turned out to be a sick joke that transformed me into a weird,
hairy dork, whose parents didn’t understand what the big deal was. By
the time I was 14, I was made up of glasses, braces, head gear, a
mustache, bushy eyebrows, acne, and heavy periods. … Asher … he
was my first crush. … Asher started laughing. … ‘You have a stripe of
hair that goes all the way down your back,’ Asher said. … This would not
have happened if I were more White. First God (gave me) a curse ... by
making me brown and then by giving me this stripe. I was a skunk girl!”
“Careless Whisper” (written and performed by Farah Elakhaoui) (POSSE scholar, UW sophomore, Spanish & Communication major)
“I was in love … with George Michaels [Careless Whisper] … So I had to tell my parents. Of course they had no idea who I was talking about.
‘You can’t be in love with him because in order to be in love, you got to be in love with a man who’s Lebanese, and Muslim, and he’s not any
of those!’ … Luckily, high school was like a George Michael heaven. Every which way I turn, he was better than him, ohh. … My parents are
pretty old fashioned when it comes to relationships, especially Baba. There’s not a day that goes by without I hear him say, ‘You’re in America
to get an education, not to chase guys!’”
“I Am Clean” (written and performed by Borna Ghosh) (UW grad student in biophysics)
“It’s getting dark … I felt something strange, something sweeping over my body. A pair of eyes … The eyes of an animal. Hungry. Starved. On
the prowl, scanning this area for his prey. ... He moves closer to me, mouth wet with saliva. … I lose control … and two dirty contemptible
hands hit me where it hurts most. Pain rushes into my spine, blood flushes into my eyes, and very, very dirty things sweeps over my soul. He
smirks. Words don’t find voice. Or my voice doesn’t find words. The bus stops at my destination. … I repeated to myself, I am clean. I am
clean.”
“Bibijis and Auntyjis” (by Shruti S. Tewari), performed by Smita Agrawal
“‘Have you talked to her about it yet?’” This was clearly directed to my mother. “‘I haven’t had the time; she got her period only before going
to school.’” … “‘Bibijis and Auntyjis.’” “What did I miss? … why don’t just call them ‘breasts and vaginas’? As if she hears my mind, she said,
‘Sh, don’t say it loudly. From now on, your menses will visit you monthly. During this time, you must stay away from the puja room, and also
from the kitchen. And stay away from the pickle jar.’ … Dealing with my bibijis and auntyjis, with my own ... doubt, shame, curiosity, and what
I will never admit to my mother, pleasure.”
“Civil Procedure” (Anonymous), performed by Ayeshah Emon (Grad student and TA, UW Anthropology)
“I bought two vibrators last year. This is what happens when you’re in law school. You see, you can’t focus, so you masturbate. … Civil
Procedure — such a horrendously boring class. And it’s at 9 a.m., meaning I never went. So I at least try to do the readings on my own. Rule
26. Discovery Procedure: An action brought without an attorney by a person in the custody of the United States, a state, or a state subdivision.
An action to enforce or quash and having sent someone through ‘subpenis’... I’ve inadvertently used classical conditioning to make myself
horny at the sight of a civil procedure textbook! … The whole idea of abstinence only as the safest form of sex can go f*** itself! I mean, we
should be creative, right?”
“On Killing” (by Sandhya Sood), performed by Sayani Chattopadhyay (Grad student, UW Chemistry & Biochemistry)
She was so alive
he felt dead
his breath reeking with alcohol
voice hoarse with abuses
when he came looking for her
She was hiding inside the closet
in their stale bedroom
fear spreading
like a tumor to every living cell
of her frail body
suffocating boisterous laughter
hide and seek in
her mother's closet
that still echoes
a childhood of frolic
wiping the crooked smile
a flutter in her heart
when she stole that first kiss
a summer day
full of mischief
fading luster of sparkling eyes
curious and bright
with endless hope
of rare adventures
yet to come
trembling overworked hands
that made love to a man
with gangrene in his soul
rotting day by day
hungry for power
he sucked at her spirit
slowly drawing like a leech
her limbs thrashing
the cold dark walls
he left to feed on other corpses
That brave day she ran away
to excavate
from the deep layers
of fear and insult
her beautiful untarnished soul
After the monologues, a beautifully choreographed ballet, titled “Laaga Chunri Mein Daag” (Choreography by Sunil Sankara), capped
the event.
Watch Asian Wisconzine’s video clips of Yoni Ki Baat performance at www.asianwisconzine.com.
“I was in love … with George Michaels [Careless Whisper] … So I had to tell my parents. Of course they had no idea who I was talking about.
‘You can’t be in love with him because in order to be in love, you got to be in love with a man who’s Lebanese, and Muslim, and he’s not any
of those!’ … Luckily, high school was like a George Michael heaven. Every which way I turn, he was better than him, ohh. … My parents are
pretty old fashioned when it comes to relationships, especially Baba. There’s not a day that goes by without I hear him say, ‘You’re in America
to get an education, not to chase guys!’”
“I Am Clean” (written and performed by Borna Ghosh) (UW grad student in biophysics)
“It’s getting dark … I felt something strange, something sweeping over my body. A pair of eyes … The eyes of an animal. Hungry. Starved. On
the prowl, scanning this area for his prey. ... He moves closer to me, mouth wet with saliva. … I lose control … and two dirty contemptible
hands hit me where it hurts most. Pain rushes into my spine, blood flushes into my eyes, and very, very dirty things sweeps over my soul. He
smirks. Words don’t find voice. Or my voice doesn’t find words. The bus stops at my destination. … I repeated to myself, I am clean. I am
clean.”
“Bibijis and Auntyjis” (by Shruti S. Tewari), performed by Smita Agrawal
“‘Have you talked to her about it yet?’” This was clearly directed to my mother. “‘I haven’t had the time; she got her period only before going
to school.’” … “‘Bibijis and Auntyjis.’” “What did I miss? … why don’t just call them ‘breasts and vaginas’? As if she hears my mind, she said,
‘Sh, don’t say it loudly. From now on, your menses will visit you monthly. During this time, you must stay away from the puja room, and also
from the kitchen. And stay away from the pickle jar.’ … Dealing with my bibijis and auntyjis, with my own ... doubt, shame, curiosity, and what
I will never admit to my mother, pleasure.”
“Civil Procedure” (Anonymous), performed by Ayeshah Emon (Grad student and TA, UW Anthropology)
“I bought two vibrators last year. This is what happens when you’re in law school. You see, you can’t focus, so you masturbate. … Civil
Procedure — such a horrendously boring class. And it’s at 9 a.m., meaning I never went. So I at least try to do the readings on my own. Rule
26. Discovery Procedure: An action brought without an attorney by a person in the custody of the United States, a state, or a state subdivision.
An action to enforce or quash and having sent someone through ‘subpenis’... I’ve inadvertently used classical conditioning to make myself
horny at the sight of a civil procedure textbook! … The whole idea of abstinence only as the safest form of sex can go f*** itself! I mean, we
should be creative, right?”
“On Killing” (by Sandhya Sood), performed by Sayani Chattopadhyay (Grad student, UW Chemistry & Biochemistry)
She was so alive
he felt dead
his breath reeking with alcohol
voice hoarse with abuses
when he came looking for her
She was hiding inside the closet
in their stale bedroom
fear spreading
like a tumor to every living cell
of her frail body
suffocating boisterous laughter
hide and seek in
her mother's closet
that still echoes
a childhood of frolic
wiping the crooked smile
a flutter in her heart
when she stole that first kiss
a summer day
full of mischief
fading luster of sparkling eyes
curious and bright
with endless hope
of rare adventures
yet to come
trembling overworked hands
that made love to a man
with gangrene in his soul
rotting day by day
hungry for power
he sucked at her spirit
slowly drawing like a leech
her limbs thrashing
the cold dark walls
he left to feed on other corpses
That brave day she ran away
to excavate
from the deep layers
of fear and insult
her beautiful untarnished soul
After the monologues, a beautifully choreographed ballet, titled “Laaga Chunri Mein Daag” (Choreography by Sunil Sankara), capped
the event.
Watch Asian Wisconzine’s video clips of Yoni Ki Baat performance at www.asianwisconzine.com.