MATCHBOX

Watching the clip from Satyajit Ray’s Mahanagar where the character played by Madhabi Mukherjee strikes an unlikely friendship with her Anglo Indian colleague shows how empowering female friendships can be. She was clearly in awe of her glamourous colleague, who gently nudges her to put on lipstick and grow beyond the role that tradition dictates she plays. This portrait of an empowering friendship between two dissimilar woman has rarely been matched in the six decades since Mahanagar was released in 1963. Even today, in literature (as in real life), there are more portrayals of women who had the potential to mentor younger women but chose to move away from the responsibility.

In Prayaag Akbar’s ‘Mother India: A Novel”, there is a scene where a grey-haired executive speaks to a young sales executive for the first time- “You seem like a good worker, so will you allow me to give you some advice?’ You expect her to offer practical advice to her younger colleague, but she merely repeats gossip, and says, “What is it, some boy? Anyway, that’s your business. We don’t pry. But …don’t let it distract you. You have a chance here to really go places.” Far from offering solidarity or mentorship, she blindly believes what has been told to her, and judges the young woman unfavourably.

This is not the only example in recent literature where a woman chooses not to take the opportunity to mentor a younger colleague. In Radhika Oberoi’s ‘Of Mothers and Other Perishables’. A senior creative director finds out that an extremely talented copywriter is having a sexual relationship with a senior colleague. She has been in the system long enough to know that nothing good ever came out of women getting romantically or sexually involved with their colleagues, yet, she chooses not to caution the young lady. While she justifies it to herself by saying that it is a consensual relationship between two adults, she could have intervened because she knows that this will expose the young woman to locker room banter and potentially lead to similar demands from other senior colleagues.

While men at the workplace tend to look out for each other, women are often more judgemental of other women. However, when there is female solidarity and friendships, it can be extremely enriching and empowering for both.

Sheela Tomy’s novel “Do Not Ask the River Her Name” has many examples of women forming bonds of solidarity with other women. The Malayalee nurse who came to the Middle East because her family survives on her income is encouraged by a woman she barely knows to live life more meaningfully and to keep aside some of her income to have fun. She also pushes her to start a v-log which ends up becoming very popular. She would not have lived life as fully if not for her female friends.

Elif Shafak’s most recent novel, ‘There Are Rivers in the Sky’, too has an unlikely friendship between a tattoo artist and a scientist. They start off with a landlord-tenant relationship, but the friendship extends far beyond that, and the tattoo artist teaches the scientist how to live on her own terms and on her own terms.

Saharu Nusaiba Kannanari’s ‘Chronicle of an Hour and a Half’ deals with what happens when rumours spiral out of control and mob fuelled hysteria takes over. It is the women who come out of as rational human beings. Unlike the men, none of the women is judgemental of a woman who chooses to take on a much younger lover, and they are able to express genuine sympathy for the other women. Though the women are all victims of patriarchy, they are able to rise above it, and display their solidarity with each other.

Female friendships can be extremely empowering, and women will be much better off, especially in the workplace, if other women looked out for them. But, as in life, in literature too female solidarity does not show up as often as it should.