Fourth of July is Higgs Boson Day

When I went online to learn about Higgs Boson from CERN’s Live seminar today, I found it difficult to understand. I wanted to get a CERN version for children or a CERN version for dummies but I was unable. However, I got a fairly easy explanation . After an hour or two I got the easiest explanation of Higgs Boson one that a seven-year-old kid would understand. Some people asked me whether I was able to find a version that would explain Higgs Boson to a three-year-old, but wouldn’t that be dumbed down for the yet-to-be-born?

Although I still do not pretend to understand the language of particle physics, I see that the origin of the universe might be connected. After the Big Bang Theory made a historic leap forward with the discovery of a subatomic particle, the present search that has lasted almost 50 years is indicating that there was no god behind the universe’s creation.

Galileo killed god. Darwin also killed god. But ignorant people did not stop worshiping it. CERN physicists killed the dead god again today. Poor putrefied god! How many hundreds of times god needs to be killed before creationists admit that god is dead?

Richard Dawkins once said, ‘Darwinism kicked God out of biology but physics remained more uncertain’. But physics is not anymore uncertain.

Some media and men are dancing thinking that ‘god particle’ has something to do with god. This is so annoying. I request scientists not to use the word ‘god’ as a metaphor anymore. Creationists use this metaphor for their irrational ‘god exists’ propaganda.

It’s 4th of July. For the first time ever, I have not celebrated 4th of July as American Independence Day. I celebrated today as Higgs Boson Day. I will celebrate 4th of July every year as Higgs Boson Day.

Eve, Oh Eve



I wrote Happy Marriage and Eve,Oh Eve in the late 80’s, Noorjahan in the beginning of 90’s and You go girl in 2005. Original poems were written in Bengali. These are just poor translation.

HAPPY MARRIAGE

My life,
like a sandbar, has been taken over by a monster of a man.
He wants my body under his control
so that if he wishes he can spit in my face,
slap me on the cheek
and pinch my rear.
So that if he wishes he can rob me of my clothes
and take the naked beauty in his grip.
So that if he wishes he can pull out my eyes,
so that if he wishes he can chain my feet,
if he wishes, he can, with no qualms whatsoever,
use a whip on me,
if he wishes he can chop of my hands, my fingers.
If he wishes he can sprinkle salt in the open wound,
he can throw ground-up black pepper in my eyes.
So that if he wishes he can slash my thigh with a dagger,
so that if he wishes he can string me up and hang me.

He wanted my heart under his control
so that I would love him:
in my lonely house at night,
sleepless, full of anxiety,
clutching at the window grille,
I would wait for him and sob,
My tears rolling down, I would bake homemade bread;
so that I would drink, as if they were ambrosia,
the filthy liquids of his polygynous body.
So that, loving him, I would melt like wax,
not turning my eyes toward any other man,
I would give proof of my chastity all my life.
So that, loving him
on some moonlit night I would commit suicide
in a fit of ecstasy

*

NOORJAHAN

They have made Noorjahan stand in a hole in the courtyard,
there she stands, submerged to her waist with head hanging.
They’re throwing stones at Noorjahan,
those stones are striking my body.
Stones are striking my head, forehead, chest and back,
they’re throwing stones and laughing aloud, laughing and shouting abuse.
Noorjahan’s fractured forehead pours out blood, mine also.
Noorjahan’s eyes have burst, mine also.
Noorjahan’s nose has been smashed, mine also.
Through Noorjahan’s torn breast, her heart has been pierced, mine also.
Are these stones not striking you?

They’re laughing aloud, laughing and stroking their beards,
there are caps stuck to their heads, they too are shaking with laughter.
They’re laughing and swinging their walking-sticks;
from the quiver of their cruel eyes, arrows speed to pierce her body, my body also.
Are these arrows not piercing your body?

*

EVE, OH EVE

Why wouldn’t Eve have eaten of the fruit?
Didn’t she have a hand to reach out with,
Fingers with which to make a fist?
Didn’t Eve have a stomach for feeling hunger,
A tongue for feeling thirst,
A heart with which to love?

Well, then, why wouldn’t Eve have eaten of the fruit?
Why would she merely have suppressed her wishes,
Regulated her steps,
Subdued her thirst?
Why would she have been so compelled
To keep Adam moving around in the Garden of Eden all their lives?

Because Eve did eat of the fruit,
There is sky and earth.
Because she has eaten,

There are moon, sun, rivers, seas,

Because she has eaten, trees, plants and vines.

because Eve has eaten of the fruit

there is joy, because she has eaten there is joy.

Eating of the fruit, Eve made a heaven of the earth.

Eve, if you get hold of the fruit

don’t ever refrain from eating.

*

YOU GO GIRL!

They said—take it easy…
Said—calm down…
Said—stop talkin’…
Said—shut up….
They said—sit down….
Said—bow your head…
Said—keep on cryin’, let the tears roll…

What should you do in response?

You should stand up now
Should stand right up
Hold your back straight
Hold your head high…
You should speak
Speak your mind
Speak it loudly
Scream!

You should scream so loud that they must run for cover.
They will say—’You are shameless!’
When you hear that, just laugh…

They will say— ‘You have a loose character!’
When you hear that, just laugh louder…

They will say—’You are rotten!’
So just laugh, laugh even louder…

Hearing you laugh, they will shout,
‘You are a whore!’

When they say that,
just put your hands on your hips,
stand firm and say,
“Yes, yes, I am a whore!”

They will be shocked.
They will stare in disbelief.
They will wait for you to say more, much more…

The men amongst them will turn red and sweat.
The women amongst them will dream to be a whore like you.

Extraordinary talks from extraordinary women

Robin Morgan

‘..all over America we watched Miss America pageant. That’s the model that’s what I gotta be like. They were supposed to feel comfortable in high heels and bathing suits parading around while men whistled, if not they must be crazy, they must be frigid or um they must be ssssshh hu ha lesbians.’

Katie Couric

‘Women are walking a very difficult tightrope and trying to manage a very difficult balance..’


Ellen DeGeneres

‘..It was a odd thing for a woman to be a comedian..’


Eve Ensler

”I think if you tell the story of your vagina, you tell the story of your life in some fundamental way..”



Martha Stewart

‘I think feminism or the feminist movement has been absolutely important to the promotion of women as equal in the society..’


Alice Walker

‘Misogyny is everywhere..’


Hillary Rodham Clinton

‘..21st century is about ending the pervasive discrimination and degradation of women and fulfilling their full rights..’


Beauté Animale

I saw an exhibition on animal’s beauty at Grand Palais in Paris today. I like the exhibition. I really do.
The people behind the exhibition say, ‘there is still a close link between art and science, between our desire to know about animals and our fascination for their beauty’. It is true that paintings, drawings, sculptures, photographs, famous or not-famous.. the exhibition brings together about 130 masterpieces of Western art from the Renaissance to the Modern day, and takes a radical new approach by choosing works in which the animal is shown on its own and for itself, without any human presence.

I liked the monkey room. There I saw 100 school children, five or six years old, brought by their teachers, were learning about evolution. Children were listening attentively. I was so happy! That was one of the effective ways to learn about the truth.

They say about monkeys and men:

The publication of Charles Darwin’s Origin of Species in 1859 was a shock for Judeo-Christian civilization. The naturalist developed his theory of natural selection, based on the struggle for life, and suggested that men and monkeys were cousins. Artists were keenly interested in these theories. The image of the monkey, previously ridiculed and conventional, changed radically and gave rise to disquieting portraits, like Pompon’s extraordinary Orang-utan.

There were some arts on Noah’s ark. The story about Noah’s ark was called a ‘myth’ in the exhibition. Children were laughing at the handful of animals that were waiting for the ark in the paintings. They were saying, ‘even though we are small children we know that there are much more animals in the world, where is dinosaur by the way, not a single polar bear is here. We know better than the myth-creators and the painters. Don’t we?’

I left the exhibition with a good feeling. The future might not be so bleak.

Sexism is not only on earth, it is in the sky too (Warning: Nasty sexist images in post)

Is there a competition between airlines to become more sexist than others? Russian airlines ads featuring women’s cabin crew members are too sexist. Civil aviation secretary Gabriel Mocho says, “I don’t want to give this airline the free publicity that its rather grubby little ad was designed to attract, but this kind of thing matters. Cabin crew are there to save your life, not to offer sex. Portraying them as flying centrefolds undermines their ability to ensure a safe and comfortable journey for passengers – and can make their working lives unbearable. It can breed a dangerous contempt that undervalues them as individuals and also as the people who have to get you out in an emergency or deal with abusive passengers in air rage incidents…The portrayal of cabin crew-members as sex objects undermines their key safety role and diminishes the level of respect passengers are likely to have for their professionalism and competence. This applies regardless of the gender of the individuals involved. For this reason, the federation believes the decision to promote such images to have been irresponsible and reckless. This kind of initiative does not foster a positive aviation safety and security culture – instead it damages safety.”

Russian Airlines

Ryanair

Ryanair, the Irish budget airline was challenged over the ads by an online campaign led by a female flight attendant and signed by more than 11,000 people. Ryanair’s “Red Hot Fares” ad campaign was banned by the Advertising Standards Authority. The ASA received 17 complaints that the ad campaign was sexist, objectified cabin crew and was “offensive and unsuitable” to appear in a national newspaper.

Mexicana Airlines

Spirit Airlines

Feministing wrote:

Spirit Air opts to feature sexist ads and debase their flight attendants. The image provided is one of their many heinous marketing ads they’ve been criticized for in the past – M.I.L.F. conveniently means “Many Islands Low Fares,” as well as an ad that says, “We’re proud of our DDs” (which stands for “deep discounts”). Their latest plan? To force their flight attendants to wear aprons with alcohol promotions on them.
Luckily, the Flight Attendants-CWA union is taking some action on both offenses. President Pat Friend, has been sending letters to CEO Ben Baldanza:

‘I feel as though I have entered a time warp and am reliving the battles for respect and justice for women that we fought 40 years ago. Several promotional fare ads…are demeaning not to just the hardworking flight attendants at Spirit Airlines but to all of America’s professional flight attendants.

Flight attendants have a statutory obligation to enforce Federal Aviation Administration regulations regarding intoxicated passengers. In-flight aprons that prominently display a logo from an alcoholic beverage company sends the wrong signal to passengers and diminishes the ability of Spirit flight attendants to enforce vital safety and security regulations and procedures onboard.’

Lufthansa

Lufthansa has an ad campaign last week: “letters” sent to male frequent flyers from their “girlfriends” begging to be bought a partner credit card. Critics slammed the campaign for reviving outdated consumer-mad, male-dependant female stereotypes. Lufthansa has issued a press release later reassuring customers that the company “never intended to convey outdated gender roles or excluding customers from the [partner card] scheme.”

Sexism is deep-rooted in patriarchal society. It is hard to stop sexist ads. What we need now is, more female voices saying the phrase, “this is your captain speaking”.

Yuck!

We have seen all those sexist vintage ads. What about 21st century’s new sexist ads!

In the West the companies are forced to ban their ads because of criticism and protests from feminists and women’s rights activists. In the East, no body protests against sexist ads. Sexism is cultural norms.

The Vodka company put up a new billboard promising New Yorkers ‘escort quality at a hooker price’. The poster was removed later.

It is a poster of the movie ‘the players’. Woman down. Man up. Woman naked, man dressed up. Woman slut, man gentleman. Woman begs, man gives. But for how long?

They are telling us that a woman can’t open a bottle of wine or a jar of olives. Men help to open the bottle and the jar. Do we really need those huge muscles to open those simple things? Hatred against women has no limits.

Believe me, it has no limits.

Vagina should smell like Vagina, not like Jasmine or Jackfruit

The world is getting more and more synthetic.
People are becoming more and more artificial. They smile at others but they do not really smile. They ask acquaintances how they are doing, whether everything is fine, but they would not mind if those acquaintances were not doing well. More and more, words are becoming artificial, coming more from lips, less and less from hearts. The case can be made that the desire for artificial flavor is growing all over the world. We are encouraged not to like the flavor of tea anymore. Advertisements publicize the flavor of chrysanthemum, pineapple, orange, cherry, and similar tastes. All kinds of artificial fruit flavors get mixed with water, which is now called tea. Some say they love fish, but they can’t tolerate the smell of fish, so they add lots of smelly things to destroy the original smell of fish before eating any.The other day I met a man who smelled like mango. Why did he smell like mango, I asked? He smiled and said it was his deodorant. My reaction was that I preferred his own body odor. Men like to have sex with women, but there are many men who do not like the smell of healthy vaginas. What do they want? Well, they want vaginas that smell like jasmine or jackfruit. They want their favorite fruits and flowers inside vagina, and they want vaginal fluid that seemingly turns into some kind of fruit juice! But should women feel embarrassed when their male partners complain about vaginal odor? Women should know that if a strange smell comes from the vagina, it is mostly because of semen or condoms. Both old semen and spermicide have offensive odors. So do bacterial vaginosis, candida vulvovaginitis, trichomoniasis, all not as strange as they sound.

Vaginal fluid is made up of normal vaginal secretions, sloughed off cells from the vaginal wall, and cervical mucous. The vagina is a self-cleaning organ. Like the mouth, the vagina is full of bacteria. It is necessary for a vagina to have a balance of different species of bacteria. Women should avoid disrupting the delicate vaginal balance. Why should women perform vaginal douching in order to make ignorant men happy! Vaginal douching is nothing but applying some annoying, irritating chemicals to destroy vaginal pH and its originality. Douching can push the bacteria from the vagina into the uterus and develop an uterine infection.

Meanwhile, the penis smells fishy, does it not? Sometimes it smells like dead rats. It is because of poor hygiene. Men do not always wash their penis. I haven’t heard many women complain about foul-smelling penises. I have heard none who believe that the penis should smell like rose or papaya. Smart women advise men to wash their penises. Smart women do not worry if their vaginas smell like vaginas.

People should try to be real and original. But many people are becoming more and more fake, artificial and robot-like. The smell of robots is everywhere. Why encourage a more synthetic human condition!

Is science a stupid-girl thing, European Commission?

In the beginning we did not allow girls to go to schools. We did not let them learn how to read and write. Then, after a long time, we allowed girls to go to schools because educated men desired to have sex with educated women. We did not allow educated girls to work outside because we wanted them to stay at home and take care of their children. We forced them to wear invisible chastity belts. Then, again after a period of time, we allowed girls to go outside to take jobs and earn money. But we allowed them to take certain kinds of jobs like nursing, like elementary teaching. Meanwhile we got so scared of feminist movement, we tried to crush that. Since then we have been telling girls they must not be feminists because boys hate feminists. We rather try everything to make the girls sex objects. We tell girls to become certain kinds of bodies because men desire certain kinds of bodies. We brainwash girls every day to buy stupid things and wear stupid things and become stupid things. We brainwash girls everyday to become nothing but a pair a lips or a pair of tits or a pair of high heels or a pair of funny sunglasses. We tell girls everyday and every hour that they have to think stupid, they have to speak stupid, they have to act stupid- only then they will be able to achieve their goals, they will look desirable, sexy. Girls have been forced to look sexy. Now girls want to be nothing but ‘sexy’.

We used to encourage boys to be scientists and girls to be prostitutes. But we soon have realized that girls can be clever, they are not just bodies and they can be other things than playthings for patriarchy. We now pay the price. We make a stupid video to attract stupid girls to choose careers in science. We have to make more and more this kind of offensive, insulting and disgusting videos, more pathetic trivialization of science, more sexist and demeaning videos, so that our sexy stupid girls can think a lab is a flirting zone and science means boiling hormones in tubes and bacteria culture plates are full of red lipsticks. The truth is most young girls today are either like video girls or they dream to be like video girls. We have to face the reality.

We are paying the price for putting our girls in the darkness for centuries. We now try to re-brainwash girls so that an interest in science can grow. We hope once they start studying science, their lifestyle will be changed. Their brains will start to think, their eyes will start to see, their ears will start to hear. They will not run after the wrong things we sell. They will fall in love with science and they will realize that science is the most sexiest smart thing in the universe. Stupid girls will turn clever girls.

Let’s hope for the ‘bright side of life’.

Homeless Everywhere


“Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of herself/himself and of her/his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond her/his control.”
– Universal Declaration of Human Rights

There are few things we find common among people in the East and people in the West, or people in the South and people in the North. There are rich and there are poor.

The rich in every country are having the same luxury lifestyle. They have everything including expensive houses.

Houses in five continents:America, Asia,Africa, Australia, Europe

It is nice to have nice beautiful houses. I wish I had one. I wish everyone had one. But I would like to know whether Mukesh Ambani from his 1.8 billion dollar tower home with 27 floors, nine elevators and three helipads can see Mumbai slums where almost half of the city’s 20.5 million population live.

People are homeless both in developed and developing countries. More than 100 million people are homeless worldwide and over 1.2 billion lack adequate housing. 3 million people are homeless in European Union and 18 million live in inadequate housing. 100,000 people sleep on the streets of Australia everyday. 44% of homeless people in Australia are female, 12% of homeless people in Australia are children under the age of 12. Women and Children are the fastest growing group of those who are homeless in Canada.In Brazil, there is a deficit of 6.6 Million housing units, equaling 20 million homeless people, who live in favela (shanty town), shared clandestine rooms, hovels or under bridges and viaducts, or are squatters. 1 million people are homeless in France. 78 million people are homeless in India despite the country growing in global economic stature. India is home to 63% of all slum dwellers in South Asia. 25,296 people are homeless in Japan.In Mexico City an estimated 40% of people live in informal housing.More than 70,000 people live in shack settlements in Namibia. 30,000 people are homeless in the Netherlands. By 2015, there will be an estimated homeless population of 24.4 million people in Nigeria.Around 24,145 Palestinian homes have been demolished in the Occupied Territories since 1967. 40% of the population,32.8million, in Philippines, live in slums. 5 million people are homeless in Russia. Around 17,800 people are homeless in Sweden. Homeless figures in the United States range from 600,000 to 2.5 million.

There are different contributing causes for homelessness. 1. Family breakdown 2. Armed conflict 3. Poverty 4. Natural and man-made disasters 5. Famine 6. Physical and sexual abuse. 7. Exploitation by adults 8. Dislocation through migration 9.Urbanization and overcrowding 10. Acculturation 11. HIV/AIDS 12. Drug and Alcohol related problems 13. Unemployment 14. Low wages 15. Mental disorder 16. Physical Disabilities 18. Domestic violence 19. Lack of affordable housing 20. Social exclusion etc.

Homeless people in five continents. America, Asia, Africa, Australia, Europe

The world has enough money to solve the problems of homelessness but to my surprise I see that the number of homeless people worldwide is increasing.

I often think of a totally different kind of homelessness. They are not literally homeless but they feel homeless. Many women who live in a nice big house know very well that the house belongs to someone else. They are scared to be ‘homeless’, so they compromise with their abusive husbands to get a space in the house, but unfortunately that doesn’t stop them from having a feeling of homelessness. It is a very hopeless and helpless feeling.

I am homeless too. I do not sleep on the street but I feel homeless. I was thrown out of my home 18 years ago. My husband did not do it because I did not have a husband. It was the government. The government literally drag me out of my home and locked the door forever. The religious fanatics demanded for my execution by hanging, instead of supporting me and my freedom of expression, the government supported the religious fanatics for their own narrow political interests. I have been forced to live in the places I do not like to live. Not only me, hundreds of thousands of people are forced to live in exile. Many of them feel homeless for the rest of their lives.

I was seven years old

‘….The day Toi-toi left, Ma had to work alone in the kitchen lighting the oven, peeling the vegetables, cleaning and cutting the fish and meat before starting lunch. When it came to lighting the oven, Ma could not find the box of matches. This was a job always done by either Phulbahari or Toi-toi. Only they knew where the matches were kept.
“Go and get a match from Amanuddaula,” Ma said to me. She knew uncle Aman would have a box of matches since she had seen him smoking cigarettes. Uncle Aman had been given the same room at the back of the house which used to be full of fire-wood, where uncle Sharaf had taken me one lonely afternoon, saying he would show me something interesting.


I opened the door and went into the room. Uncle was lying in his bed. He looked like my father. Curly hair, a sharp nose, large eyes, thick dark eyebrows, a fair complexion. If Papa could be pressed under the bricks and flattened somewhat, and his height reduced, he would look no different from uncle Aman.
The room, I could see, looked completely different. There was no fire-wood, no rats. A picture in a frame hung on the tin wall. It was one of uncle Aman himself. His hair in the picture looked wavy, on his feet were pump shoes. To the right of this picture was a calendar with a woman’s face on it. A comb and a mirror were tucked in the tin. On a clotheshorse lay his clothes, unfolded.
“uncle,” I said, looking at the calendar, “Ma is asking for matches.”
“What is your Ma going to do with matches?” he enquired, getting out of bed and rubbing the hair on his bare chest.
“She’ll light the oven. Then she’ll cook.”
“But I haven’t got any matches!” uncle Aman told me.
At these words, I turned around and took a step to walk out of the room. Uncle dragged me inside. “Wait, wait, take your matches. I have got some,” he said, grinning.
Suddenly, as if by magic, a matchbox appeared in his hand. I stretched mine to take it, but uncle Aman moved his own hand away. I tried again, he moved it once more. One minute I could see the matchbox, and the next minute it was gone. It felt a bit like watching a glow-worm. A flash of light one moment, darkness the next. In order to lay my hand on the box of matches, I moved nearer to uncle Aman. He pulled me even closer. Then, instead of giving it to me, he started tickling me under my arms and my stomach, laying me flat on his bed. I shrank like a snail. He picked up my tense, curled-up body and threw it in the air, as if he was playing cricket. He was the bat, I was the ball. Then he caught me as I fell, his hand sliding down my body, stopping at my panties. Then it began pulling my panties down. I tried to roll off the bed. My feet were on the floor, my back still on the bed, my panties near my knees, my knees neither on the floor nor on the bed. Around my neck hung the medallion to protect me from danger.
Uncle lifted his lungi. I saw a big snake raise its head between his legs, poised for attack. I went numb with fear, but to my greater horror, the snake did attack, in that little place between my thighs — once, twice, thrice. I remained totally petrified. Staring into my wide eyes, uncle said, “Would you like a candy? Tomorrow, I will buy you candy . Look, here’s the matchbox, take it. And listen, sweetheart, don’t tell anyone that you have seen my cock and I have seen your little sweet pussy. It’s bad to talk about such things. You must tell no one.”
I left his room, the box of matches in my hand. It ached between my thighs, I felt to pee, but saw my panties were already wet. I had no idea what this game was called, this business of stripping me naked. Nor could I guess why uncle Sharaf and uncle Aman wanted to climb over me. Uncle Aman had told me not to tell anyone else. I started to think he was right. It was not something one talked about. At the age of seven, suddenly a new awareness rose in my mind. It told me that whatever had happened was shameful, it would not be right to talk about it, it had to be kept a secret.

Even today, sometimes I wonder why I did not tell anyone about those two incidents. Was it because I did not want people to think badly of my uncles? Had anyone put me in charge of protecting their good name? Was it because they were older than me and, for that reason alone, worthy of my respect, because I had read in a book that one had to respect everyone who was older? Or was it because I had believed them to be good people, and did not want that belief shattered? As if what had happened was just not true, it was a lie from start to finish, no more than a nightmare; or, may be, those men only looked like my uncles, but were really two different men in their guise, enemies from some distant past! Who struck me dumb, and told me to hide my pain and suffer in silence? Was I afraid that, if I did talk about it, no one would believe me, they would dismiss my allegations, say that I was possessed by some evil spirit, or that I was either a liar or totally mad, a trouble-maker? No one would then hold me close and kiss me, but slap me and hit me hard instead? Or could it be that no one seemed to be my own, no one was close enough to whom I could go and cry my heart out, tell them everything without holding anything back, show them my wounds? Even Ma was not that close, although she was my whole world. I lived under her protection, she was like a tree, I sat in its shade when I was tired; she was like a deep, clear pond, I drank its water when I was thirsty. She had given me life, she nurtured it. If I could not turn even to her at a moment like this, who else could help me?

After that incident, I felt myself split into two. One half went out with all the other children, played games and ran around. The other half sat alone and depressed, by the pond, or the rail roads, or the steps by our door. Alone, even in the middle of a crowd. Thousands of miles began to place themselves between this lonely girl and all the others. Even when she stretched her arm, she could not touch anyone across all those miles, not even her mother. If she tried, all her hands could ever grasp was emptiness….’

[From the translation of my memoir ‘Amar Meyebela'(My Girlhood)]