The end of fear itself

Mary Kom, the living legend. Bear in mind that her country of origin is India, and her achievements of five world titles in boxing, is mind-boggling. But can the film inspire families around the country to allow their women-folk to step out of traditional gender roles? Or will the tale of her success remain bittersweet for the many nameless, faceless women of India, themselves casualties on the road to self-actualizing?
 

The Mary Kom biopic released in India this month. Her life story, packaged in a Bollywood production, sweeps the audience along on an emotional roller coaster. We are in awe of her grit in demolishing the sexist bounds girls her age are afraid of confronting. We marvel how her boxing dream sustains her through travails. The images portrayed are iconic, and have dramatic timing. Against the backdrop of destructive insurgent standoffs in the Northeastern states, a young girl finds the boxing glove that inspires her career. Again, conflict flares and curfew ensues when she is to become a mother.

We too rage at the sporting ignorance of the federation officials, and at the injustices meted out to state and national players. Our tears well up with her collapse onto the ring canvas in sync with her child’s loss of vitals during her comeback championship bout. Together with her supporters, we will her to find strength in helplessness and get back to her feet. Her pain as person, woman, daughter, student, wife and mother resonates as our pain, because so many women in India are or have been in like situations. 

Although all around the world, women’s movements have cried themselves hoarse in protest over the invisible glass ceiling in employment organizations, in India it is barely realized. Entrenched in gender roles, most women probably do not believe they are worth any better. We cannot hope to see anybody else have the self-belief to speak out, let alone throw a chair in protest at the powers-that-be. It may be telling that, although in the last fortnight, the film screened in theatres in the rest of India, its release is as yet held up in Kom’s home state of Manipur!

In the social structure of the country, women do occupy positions of power, but their climbing the rungs of achievement on their own strengths are rare. Far more often we hear of the incumbents being somebody’s mother, sister, wife, daughter or daughter-in-law. In short, behind every successful woman there is a man to pull the strings, and wield the power. When this is the socially accepted construction of a woman’s life, it is no surprise that their self-worth is also dependent on forces outside of them. Against that norm, the woman that values herself is an oddity.

We love the men that stand up tall in her life - the father, a wrestler himself, for his turnabout from stiff resistance to support of his daughter’s dreams, the husband for his calming counsel, devotion to family and commitment to her career, and of course, the curmudgeon coachfor his unwavering focus on goal, without whose guidance in training she acknowledges she can never be a champion.

We are also secretly jealous, because very, very few women can boast of kinship support that respects or even tolerates the development of their individual identity. Rather, most women that dare to be “unwomanly” in a patriarchal society are not only left open to gender exploitation in the outside world, they also face the severest backlash at home. The pressures of battling several fronts often break down resolve, and in abject despair, most become apathetic shells of their former self. In the ultimate analysis, they lack the killer instinct.

What holds the women back from achieving their goals? In one word: Fear. The undifferentiated fear that is all consuming. The fear is of stepping outside the mythological lakshmanrekha (invisible boundary) that tradition constrained them with so many millennia ago. The fear is of performance, it is of making mistakes, and of being a failure. The fear is of the unknown, of what inexplicable terror or danger might lurk in the shadows. The fear is of other people might think. The fear is of bring shame to family.  The fear is of being abandoned.

Women of this country have been taught through generations that they are custodians of culture and carriers of the tradition. They are bred to be dependent. This perspective has probably become interwoven with their DNA. Hence, fears are their constant companions and rule their lives. In one memorable scene in the film, the protagonist warns the official, Don’t scare anybody so much that their fear ends altogether. Women of India need to take heart from it.  Fact is they have nothing to fear but fear. Conquer it, and they become impervious to the men’s most potent weapon of control against them - emotional blackmail.

Mary Kom is not the first ever woman in the country with the drive to break new ground. There have been many that have tried before to fight for gender equality. Like the same wine in older bottles, they too were held hostage to stereotypical assumptions – that they would become boys if they played boys’ games, that nobody would ever marry them, that they would bring dishonour to the family prestige, ad infinitum.  Through earlier ages, innumerable women have thus been felled by the wayside for their audacious attempts to reach out and break the glass ceiling. They were not defeated in fair fights but through their greatest weakness, the desire to maintain relationships.

The tenacity of Mary Kom lends substance to her legendary status. She keeps her goal in sight no matter what. Through thick and thin, her talent remains undiminished. When the father forces a choice, the pressure shows, and yet her gaze is unwavering as she chooses boxing over the familial relationship. It makes the Arjuna Award for her exceptional prowess significant – Arjun the warrior-prince of the Mahabharat could shoot out the eye of a fish on a rotor at a distance because of that extraordinary ability to focus.

Although the earlier women innovators remain in the shadows today, Mary Kom’s success actually vindicates their belief that woman can do this. For them it is bittersweet - they couldn’t make it, but somebody finally did! This country and many others around the world could do with a reevaluation of gender roles. May be, just may be, the story of one woman’s journey to the top adds fillip to a new trend in women’s development.

In the cinema hall, the audience jumps to its feet as the national anthem plays at the end of the show. They applaud, perhaps the person, perhaps the presentation, perhaps both. I wonder whether they will, thereafter, apply any of it to bring change into their own lives. Or will the majority soon distance from proactive action, and instead, re-view the biopic as just 123 minutes of filmy entertainment…