Road-side Romeo…what does this phrase conjure up in your head?
So a few weeks ago, I did a post on how some English words and phrases have changed and evolved to mean something slightly or very different in India: words like chocolate, hotel, and shooting up are among those I discussed. And then there are other terms that Indians using English have coined to suit certain needs, cultural needs, to accommodate a lack in traditionally native varieties of English: I didn’t talk about these in that earlier post, but scholarship on Indian English is replete with them: coconut-breaking ceremony, thread ceremony, for example, phrases that Indians would have no trouble whatsoever understanding.
And while I was writing that post, there were two phrases I thought about, phrases I heard often when I was in high school and college. And I decided not to include them in that post, because I wanted a light-hearted post. Light-hearted, these two terms are not.
The first of the terms is Road-side Romeo. A term frequently used when I was in high school and college, and used, as I recall, humorously, for the most part. I mean, it sounds funny, doesn’t it? What did you think upon first reading it at the beginning of this post? But it isn’t humorous at all. A road-side Romeo is what we called someone who harassed women (well, usually women) – publicly. On the road, for example. Someone I encountered crossing the road on my way to college, a bloke on a bike riding past me and saying something incredibly crude. Or another bloke standing at the corner of the street I crossed whistling. Or someone grabbing my breast as he cycled past me. Happened ALL the time. And my friends and I talked about it, but without a sense of anything more than disgust. And then we laughed it off.
Why?
Maybe because we didn’t think it was truly dangerous – I mean, it was public spaces, with no dearth of people to help should help have been needed – this is urban India we are talking about. But at the same time, we constantly made conscious efforts not to put ourselves in places where we might actually be in danger. Where the acts of Road-side Romeos might become more pernicious. And those conscious efforts were a part of everyday life.
Or maybe we laughed it off is because of the term: Road-side Romeo. Maybe we felt that using a term like Road-side Romeo when we were in college, did make us feel, then, like it was not a serious issue. And perhaps we needed the lightness of the term to avoid thinking about how very central to our existences changing our behavior simply to stay safe was. To avoid the non-lightness of the issue.
Or maybe we laughed it off because of another phrase; because we associated Road-side Romeos with Eve-teasing. Which is what public sexual harassment is called in India. What road-side Romeos do. Sounds absolutely innocuous, doesn’t it? I mean, how bad can it actually be? Talk about sugar-coated language. Staring, stalking, making lewd comments, inappropriate touching. All things I experienced, many, many times.
Did it happen less frequently than it does today? Was it any less deplorable then? Or has sexual harassment in India been getting more attention today because it has gotten considerably more pernicious? I don’t know. What I do know is that as a culture, we are more aware of the issue than we seemed to be 30 or 40 years ago. That sexual harassment in India is common today is no secret. It is depressingly common. But it is also depressingly significantly overlooked. And still significantly underreported. Why?
Let me digress for a moment.
Early in my teaching career in the US, when first I started teaching sociolinguistics, I used to take into class at a certain time in the semester a particular clip of a rant by George Carlin, one where he ranted against how language was changing, ranted against politically correct language. I’d use this clip as a springboard for discussions on whether and why and how and to what degree language had changed or needed to change. Opinions during these discussions often varied as much as the number of students there were, with opinions ranging from entirely supporting Carlin’s point of view, to opinions severely denigrating Carlin for his disdain of political correctness. My own opinion was (and still is) somewhere in between the two extremes: language has most certainly needed to become more inclusive, it has needed to change, particularly when concerned with race, or gender, or sexual orientation, for example. But I wondered then, and still do, just how much changing “blind” to “visually impaired” actually affects people’s attitudes towards people who can’t see. Just how much does language influence thought? How much does language shape our reality?
But. (Coming back to India and sexual harassment.)
What I can’t help but wonder is how much India’s choice of terms for both perpetrator and event had/have to do with how seriously they are taken. Or not seriously. I mean Road-side Romeo? How bad can he be? Surely someone who is just having some fun? Perfectly harmless. More innocent than not? Reminiscent of Brock Turner and his 20 minutes of “action”?
And Eve-teasing? As benign as it gets, isn’t it? For so non-benign an issue.
Language influencing thought. Sapir and Whorf at work again.
So there is no way for me to connect today’s conversation with a food. And why would I want to? So today, I’ll just give you another recipe for one of my favorite vegetables, okra. I gave you a simple south Indian okra curry recipe a few weeks ago. This time, it is a very different recipe – one for stuffed okra. This is something my mum made when I was a kid, and something I absolutely loved. I have modified her recipe a bit over the years, and this is my stuffed okra today. Simple and delicious.
A note on measurement in recipes
So it was pointed out to me recently that I might be causing some confusion with my measurements, and if I have, I am so sorry! I use volumetric measurements, not weight. Because 1 cup of onions, for example, is very different in weight from one cup of cilantro. Also, the prepared size of the ingredient changes the weight of a specified volume. Clearly, slightly larger or slightly smaller pieces will slightly alter the quantity in said volume, but not substantially enough to make a great difference in the end result of the recipe. So please get as close as you can to my descriptions of size - finely diced or coarse, for example. This is why I use the standard American cup measure, which is about 8 fluid ounces.
Stuffed Okra
Ingredients (serves 4 as a side; vegan; vegetarian; gluten-free)
1. 1lb fresh okra – about 400 grams
2. 1 cup of finely sliced onions.
3. 2 Tbsp ground coriander seed
4. ¼ tsp asafoetida
5. ½ tsp turmeric
6. 1 Tbsp Kashmiri chilli powder or 1 tsp cayenne (more if you want it spicier)
7. 2 Tbsp lime juice
8. 2 Tbsp water
9. 4 Tbsp oil
10. 1 Tbsp cumin seeds
11. 2 sprigs of curry leaves
12. 1¾ tsp of salt
13. ½ cup chopped cilantro (optional)
Method
1. Cut the heads and the very tips of the tails off the okra. Make a slit down each okra, lengthwise, in such a way that the head is still intact – so the okra looks a bit like a clothes peg (well, at least in my head). If the okra is really long, you could cut it into two first, and make slits down each half to give you two smaller clothes pegs.
2. Make the stuffing. Combine the ground coriander, turmeric, asafoetida, chilli powder, lime juice, water, 1 tsp of salt, and 1 Tbsp of the oil. Make a thick paste.
3. Stuff the okra. This is finicky, but worth the trouble. It is best done with your fingers – take a bit of the paste and smear it liberally across the cut sides of the okra, being careful not to totally split the okra into two pieces. You are, then, in essence, stuffing it. The amount of stuffing paste you make should be enough to stuff all your okra. Put the stuffed okra aside for about 30 minutes – this allows the okra to absorb some of the flavors.
4. Heat the remaining 3 Tbsp oil in a heavy skillet. When the oil is hot, add the cumin seeds and allow them to splutter for about 10 seconds, making sure they don’t immediately turn black. If they do, throw them out and start over – burned cumin seeds taste terrible.
5. Now add the curry leaves, followed by the sliced onions and ¼ tsp of the salt.
6. Stir the onions and allow them to cook for 5 minutes on medium heat.
7. Now add the stuffed okra, the remaining ½ tsp of salt, and stir together. Cook the okra with a lid partially on for 10-15 minutes on medium (20 minutes if you like it really brown), stirring occasionally.
8. When the okra is done to your liking (some people in my family like it a bit less done (cooked for about 10 minutes), some like it a bit brown (cooked for about 15 minutes) – so decide how you like it), turn the heat off and stir in the cilantro. Serve hot with a bread or rice of your choice.
My guess would be that language shapes thought a LOT, determining not only what we think but what we CAN think. But how do you quantify just how much? Have linguists found a way to figure that out?
This newsletter makes very thoughtful. How do we conceptualize violence? Sexual violence, in particular?