It Has Always Been This Way
By: Nandita Das
Tags: Change, Flash Fiction, Discrimination, Women Empowerment, 5 Monkeys Story

It Has Always Been This Way

By Nandita Das

Pic Credit: Pixabay

Everyone has a lot of memories which made up their childhood, and some of my most cherished memories are my love and passion for books.

I have found delight in reading to the extent of immersing myself totally in books, carried away to distant worlds. Sometimes, when I read, I feel like I am travelling to another world entirely, another territory or time where no one can intrude. I’m not just a passionate reader, but an obsessive one.

Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre is the book that influenced me the most, which I consider the best literary masterpiece ever. I loved it for the simple fact that the leading character, Jane is a simple, straightforward person who is bold and independent.

She is also someone who has a firm belief in feminism and equality. By opposing male domination, Jane battles the norm. Jane isn’t a beauty, and undoubtedly we are conditioned to believe that a woman, especially, the leading character in a book, must be outwardly beautiful, but Jane’s outward appearance is plain, she is an orphan, struggling with poverty and discrimination, but she also has a strong mind, she is intelligent, compassionate and stands by her principles, and her deep desire for independence and equality. She has an unfailing spirit, courage and a sharp wit. I also love the playful banter played out between the simple Jane and the domineering Rochester.

There are many places in the world where women still face oppression and are discriminated against.

Flash Fiction:

It Has Always Been This Way by Nandita Das

Our ancestral village, Jhimli stands on the foothills of the Himalayas. I have treasured memories of the place, my family having moved to cosmopolitan Mumbai many years ago.

I remember our old family home beside the Jhimli river and the old banyan tree under which, as children, we spent many a happy hour, swinging on its branches. Some of my relatives stayed back, though.

My cousin, Shyamala’s wedding was planned for the following month. We were planning a family trip to our village to attend this wedding.

As I sit and gaze at the city lights from the balcony of my 24th-floor apartment, I can see the glittering lights of Mumbai coast, the Marine Drive and Worli Sea Link. My thoughts drift to our ancestral village which holds such fond memories.

The following week we arrived at the village. Jhimli village nestled in the hills and the Jhimli river was in spate. Lotus flowers of many hues, pink, purple and white and blue hyacinths floated on the water near the river banks.

The first thing that caught my attention was the huge garden surrounding the house. Vines, creepers, ferns, tall banana plants with large leaves and flowering plants. The sweet-scented rose bushes. We were ushered into the house and offered lime juice and fruits.

The house had some extension built. We made ourselves comfortable in the house. I chose a room from where through the large windows I could see the road leading up to the river, the banyan tree and almost all of the village. I had my bath and thought to have a short siesta. It had started to drizzle and raindrops fell on the lawns and the ground, bringing a whiff of the sweet scent of petrichor and the roses wafting in the breeze.

Just then I heard a commotion. I could hear angry voices. I rushed out to see what was happening. Under the banyan tree, a crowd had gathered. I too rushed to the spot. I was surprised to see my cousin Shyamala, head bent, eyes lowered standing in the midst of the crowd.

When I demanded to know what happened, the men spoke up in unison. “She has brought shame to our village.”

“How?” I asked.

I noticed the women were all trying to make themselves invisible, taking shelter behind groups of men, their heads covered and faces almost invisible behind their veils which they had pulled down over their faces to hide their identities.

“How?” I demanded the men explain to me. They said that she was found dancing in the rain. The villagers had spotted her raising her face skywards and letting the raindrops fall on her face and then dancing joyfully with abandon, with no care in the world, dancing in sheer joy. This they said was what brought dishonor and she should be punished. There’s a certain way a woman should behave and dancing merrily as if drunk was against their society’s rules.

“Where does it say so?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s an unwritten rule. Everything isn’t written down as a law, but these are unwritten rules. It has always been this way, since generations,” they said.

They said, in unison, “This is how it was from our ancestors’ time and this is how it will be.”

“But, why?” I asked.

“It has always been this way,” they repeated.

I said, “I have a story to tell.”

Then men listened in rapt attention.

I said, “Psychologists carried out research a few years back. A cage that had 5 monkeys was used. The cage contained a banana that was hung from a string, underneath, a staircase was placed.

In no time, a monkey made an attempt towards the stairs and climbed towards the direction of the banana.

The psychologist sprinkled the other monkeys with ice-cold water. An attempt was made by another monkey towards the banana, after some time. The moment he laid his foot on the stairs, the other monkeys were sprinkled with ice-cold water. In no time, the other monkeys started hindering any other monkey from physically reaching out to the stairs.

After this, the psychologist stopped the use of cold water, a monkey was removed from the cage and replaced with a new one. On seeing the banana, the new monkey began to climb the stairs. The new monkey was shocked and afraid when the other monkeys began to attack him. A lot of assault was made towards all his attempts to climb the stairs, in the long run, he realized he would be continually attacked if he tries climbing the stairs.

Another monkey was taken out from the initial five monkeys and then substituted with a new one. An attack was made towards the newbie when he made an attempt to climb the stairs. The attack was made in conjunction with the previous newcomer, with so much enthusiasm.

Furthermore, a third original monkey was substituted with a new one, followed by a fourth, then the final fifth. Each time the newbie tries climbing the stairs, he gets attacked. The monkeys didn’t understand the reason for the attacks each time they try climbing the stairs.

Then, all the original monkeys had been replaced, leaving only the new set of monkeys that had never been sprinkled with cold water. Despite this, none of the monkeys attempted the stairs to reach out for the banana. This is because they feel that’s the norm in that environment.

The same thing applies to people. Usually, we believe things should be done the way it was done in the past rather than questioning the belief. Just like the monkeys, a lot of us imitate past behavior because we feel the simplest approach to things in life is compliance.

The men nodded in silence. No one protested. It had started drizzling again and huge raindrops were beginning to fall. I lifted my face up skywards and let the rain fall over my face. My cousin Shyamala did the same. The women came out, lifted their veils.

I started to dance and soon Shyamala and all the women were dancing in glee. We danced in wild abandon. The men too joined in the dancing. It had begun to rain heavily and the sound of the rain was like music to our ears and as the rain fell in heavy torrents the entire village joined in, dancing merrily in the rain.

Note: Note: The story of FIVE MONKEYS is associated with G.R. Stephenson’s research.

If you liked this story, please read my book Girl On A Mission: A Long Walk To Equality