Tahira Kashyap calls out the hypocrisy against women, lends support to #SmashThePatriarchy amid the ongoing case against Rhea Chakraborty
Tahira Kashyap Khurrana (MID-DAY; September 11, 2020)

Like a phoenix, she will rise. And by she I mean feminism, which is being crushed everyday. Why would I choose to write about this much-trodden topic now? Perhaps my threshold of tolerance has been tested in the last week, jolted by this new wave of anger against patriarchy. All of the talk in the media, the chatter on twitter, the footage on my tv screen, re-awakened something in me. And so in the last week when I had my usual share of experiences - the usual experiences that happen to every woman, every single day - I lost my poise.

We are currently in Chandigarh where the trees are outnumbering the cows by the roadside and my mother's fixation with her jamai is trying my patience. A few days ago, we had a small get together at home. Trying to redeem our ancestors of their bad habits, both the men and women of the house were serving the guests.

While I offered a plate of hot tikkis, a distant relative wearing a Salvador dali mask, not the one that covers the entire face but just covering his mouth, symbolizing only one kind of resistance - the stretch in the cloth which was trying to accommodate his buxom cheeks, looked mighty impressed with my husband and the way he was helping me out. He made a snide remark while slipping two tikkis into his plate, "Beta you should look after your husband, feed him more greens". Before I could react, my wise mother quickly put two more tikki's in his plate and ushered me, the ticking time bomb, aside.

Needless to say I was appalled at first. But once that feeling subsided I wondered why I was expected to feed greens to the man? I understand when my father expects me to give some greens to Jyoti, the cow, who comes to our house every Monday and to also give 20 rupees to her accomplice. It's only fair that Jyoti has such an expectation, though I doubt she discriminates between which gender feeds her but what was this tikki-munching man thinking?

Red hot with anger, I turned around and went up to the relative and said, "actually he is making me a salad tonight, I'll ask him to make an extra serving for himself". I was tempted to crush his toes as I made the speech, but held myself back and simply stomped out of the living room. After all, who wants to deal with name-calling? I mean with 'vishkanya', 'gold digger' and 'Bengali women' doing the rounds I don't want 'khoon ki piyaasi', 'toes crushing' 'Punjabi women' to start another wave.

I was later on pulled up by another senior family member for my behaviour. I agree I was being harsh but was amazed by the offence taken. Perhaps every time a woman is called 'haramkhor', 'fucking m#$@#chod' on live feed, we should go out protesting too…oh but aren't we already? Yet when we do, we are loose cannonballs who are frustrated and need to be trolled with rape and murder threats on social media, a platform that has not only encapsulated our lives but defines the very nature of it too.

I remembered my trainer in Mumbai. More so now since the weighing scale is replicating the ascending graph of our nation's Coronavirus cases. I remember one day after a tough, sweaty session I shook hands with her. Her hands were rough, and full of bumps. Some of the callouses had literally turned green. She smiled at my look of shock and said "I need to work hard, I need to be on top of my game. Have to stay fit…always". And so after her six to seven hours of personal training sessions she would take out time for herself to train for another hour or two, before running back to her four year old daughter.

In my training with various gym trainers for around 15 years I have observed 90% of male trainers are unfit with their muscles generously layered with fat. They may not always have been this way, but once they have found a certain recognition, they let go of themselves. And it doesn't matter as they all still had a huge clientele .

The women trainers, on the other hand, were 100% fit despite thyroid issues, PCOS or having delivered multiple kids via cesarean. Yet they ended up with perhaps half the clientele than their male counterparts. Why this discrepancy? Because like many other professions and life in general, women always have to prove themselves. It's a constant struggle, a constant point to prove.

The next day I went into a meeting with the real estate agent who was showing us the first drawing of our family home that we all recently bought in Panchkula. Attending the meeting was my not-so-skinny half now (prep mode for his shoot), his brother, sister in law, the agent and his assistant. It was a fun meeting full of excitement and anticipation.

The agent threw open the charts on the table. We huddled over it trying to figure which room should go where. As the four of us were mulling over where to have an exclusive master bedroom space for mom-in-law and father-in-law, the agent's assistant jumped in with an ingenious suggestion. "We should have a service kitchen along the main kitchen, both the Khurrana bahus would want an exclusive space to cook nai?"

The boys were generous and only gave the poor chap an astonished look. But us girls weren't that generous. This time I looked truly bloodthirsty. I think he saw embers of fire burning in my eyes. Figuring out he had said something wrong, the assistant quickly changed the subject. Till date every time I meet him and offer to get something exclusive from the kitchen for him, he vehemently refuses. I guess he doesn't want me entering the rasoda anymore.

There is something drastically wrong with the general outlook towards women. The expectations are unreal. "How is ignoring a lame comment by a roadside Romeo unreal?" You may ask. It is unreal. Keeping quiet, enduring is unreal. Even before puberty hit me, I have been bottom pinched so many times that I, like every Indian girl, have lost count - be it standing in queues outside a single screen theatre or lining up outside a mandir waiting for a chance to pour milk over shiv-ling and see the linga 'drink' it. Somehow I never got to experience the latter as I opted out of the line after getting groped. And I was all of 12 at that time. And that too at a pious place. If someone had called out these filthy minds for what they are, perhaps I wouldn't have to experience what I did. And if we don't call out now and have zero tolerance for the smallest of remarks how can we ensure the safety of women and children?

Some people say that feminists shout too much at everything, that they go overboard. Let's play a game I recently read about - "can you reverse a proposition and get the same results?" And so each time a remark is made, or some undue expectation is thrown at us let's try to put the man in that situation. For instance, "both the Khurana sons will want an exclusive space to cook " or "did madam allow you to shoot while the kids go to school?" I can add an entire list of questions and this is from a place of privilege. I can't begin to fathom (but don't want to ignore) what must be happening to the rest of us across different strata of the same patriarchal society. So until the equation becomes equal, "roses are red, violets are blue, let's smash the patriarchy, me and you."

As told to Ankita Chaurasia (MUMBAI MIRROR; April 17, 2020)

We have a fluid timetable, where we decide on a set of things to get done through the day, but we do them as and when we can. My kids, Virajveer and Varushka, have e-learning classes so that they can continue with studies. I spend three-four hours helping them with assignments. Post that, it’s bathing time. With the Coronavirus scare, every time they step out, they have to take a shower.

After that, we cook or bake together. All those who have undergone treatments for heart disease, cancer or are diabetic, are more susceptible right now as their immunity is supposed to be low. Right food is very important as is your mindset while eating it, and workouts. So, we try and squeeze in a bit of everything in our day.

Then, while Ayushmann (Khurrana, actor-husband) and I read and write, the kids play on their own. In the evenings, all four of us come together to paint. Ayushmann takes over the music console and plays what my daughter terms “puraane zamaane ke gaane”. Because of these two monkeys, I don’t need to find activities to do. In fact, while others are looking for new things to do, I am struggling to find time for myself.

Rachana Dubey (BOMBAY TIMES; March 31, 2020)

With the country on a three-week lockdown to prevent the spread of the Coronavirus pandemic, all our Bollywood stars have quarantined themselves.

Actor Ayushmann Khurrana and his filmmaker-writer wife Tahira are taking extra precautions during this tough phase. Tahira tells BT, “After you’ve recovered from something like cancer, or when you’re at an advancing age, you have to be extra cautious.”

She continues, “Who had thought that the situation would escalate so much! The little positive I see in all of this is that people are valuing their life and time with loved ones so much more. They also understand the necessity of boosting immunity.”

Talking about the measures the family of four — the couple and their children Virajveer and Varushka — has taken during the lockdown, Tahira shares, “Except for the permanent staff at home, everyone was sent on leave almost two weeks ago. My kids have not stepped out of the house. Even if Ayushmann and I step out in the colony for a walk, we make sure that when we return home, we leave our shoes outside and take a shower before touching anything in the house. Every two days, we thoroughly sanitise the doorknobs and other frequently used parts of the house. We’ve also kept a bottle or two of sanitisers outside the front door, for the staff of the society. Take precaution is all we can do.”

Tahira and Ayushmann have been using their time indoors, painting, writing and indulging in their hobbies. However, children, who are accustomed to an active, outdoor life, tend to get bored and restless at home. Bring this up and she says, “This is family time that we had missed for almost a year. Of course, we didn’t want to have it this way, but now that we have it, we’re trying to make the most of it. Every night after dinner, we all sit down together to paint something. I used to paint when I was a kid and I’ve gone back to doing it. At times, Ayushmann and Viraj become DJs and play all kinds of songs to entertain us.”

Also, though the schools are closed, Virajveer and Varushka continue to follow their daily schedule. Tahira elaborates, “Children take time to adjust to a routine, so the idea is to try and not break that, even in these times. My kids follow a schedule for their food, studies, sleep and playtime; of course, there is no outdoor activity. During the first two-three days, we were clueless about what to do because this is unprecedented. But the best part about human beings is their ability to adapt. So, we now have this routine. Ayushmann and I help them with their studies, like brushing up on their maths and other subjects. We’re even trying to teach them newer things. By the time these kids go back to school, they would all have become geniuses with parents spending time with them (laughs!), which they should do anyway. Ayushmann has been giving piano lessons to Viraj. I am continuing my writing, and watching my kids.”

“Ayushmann always says that we should not let things dip. It’s not the best times for us, but we have to tell ourselves that this, too, shall pass,” she signs off.

Kavita Awaasthi (HINDUSTAN TIMES; February 4, 2020)

Cancer treatment has improved over the years and survival rates are up, but so are the number of people afflicted by the disease. Yet, cancer remains a dreaded word not mentioned openly. On World Cancer Day, writer-director Tahira Kashyap Khurrana feels “even today, there is a stigma associated with the word ‘cancer’. People don’t talk about it even after detection”.

She shares that she realised the same when undergoing breast cancer treatment last year. “In fact, I didn’t know that anyone in my family or close circle had cancer. Awareness of the symptoms was never on top of my mind as no one had ever spoken about it. Once I opened up (about my case), I found there were many people in my close circle who had endured it, yet kept mum. It goes to show how much this topic is avoided in family discussions. Had I known there were cases in my family, I would’ve gone much earlier for a checkup,” she says.

Tahira, who received a lot of support from her husband, actor Ayushmann Khurrana, has been quite vocal ever since she was diagnosed. “If there is any change in your breast, or if you feel any change in your body, you need to get it checked. It is important to respect your body. I never thought something like this could happen to me. If you feel something different about your body, it requires immediate attention. Moreover, it is very, very important for us to talk about cancer. The only way to remove the stigma is by talking and spreading the message. The more we talk about it (the more) it will lead to early detection which can mean treatment and cure,” she says.

The writer-director reveals what kept her going through her treatment was work. “I had that fortune during the months of my chemotherapy. I kept working... it helped me push myself. I think work, love, happiness, talk and dialogue can help alleviate the stigma around cancer. We need to normalise cancer, make a conducive environment for the person going through this pain. They need to know they don’t need have to give up on life or live in a corner of the house,” she adds.

Rachana Dubey (BOMBAY TIMES; February 4, 2020)

In 2018, filmmaker-writer Tahira Kashyap Khurrana’s life met with a roadblock when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. What followed was painful sessions of chemotherapy, medication, mastectomy and reconstruction, and while all of it could have crushed her spirit, Tahira emerged from the experience, stronger, braver and more positive. On the World Cancer Day, today, she speaks to BT about her battle with carcinoma, surging ahead as a filmmaker and why it’s important to live every day of your life to the fullest. Excerpts...

You were busy with the pre-production work of your Bollywood directorial debut, Sharma Ji Ki Beti, when you were diagnosed with breast cancer. While it must have shaken you up completely, it also stalled your career for a while…
I’ve evolved over the last three years. Had it been the earlier me, I would have had anxiety and stress. I would have felt defeated and cursed my husband (Ayushmann Khurrana) because we tend to blame the spouse for everything that goes wrong. It’s a common tendency in people. But I changed when I discovered what I was suffering from. It makes you feel bad, but you have to find the resilience to deal with it. Today, as a filmmaker, I’m game to knock on doors till people hear me. Now, I am more determined to make it happen than I ever was. There’s a feature film I am working on and with that, I plan to make up for lost time. I need to prove myself. If I get success on a platter, it will probably be because of my husband. He has struggled on his own for years and achieved what he has. This (her journey of making films) is my struggle and it has to be mine, entirely. I’m glad that I’m on a journey of my own.

Now, when you interact or meet with people, do you see them acting sympathetically, knowing what you have been through? And, does that ever get to you?
I’m not a bechari, and I have never played the victim card. In all these years, I’ve never asked the question, ‘why me’ and I don’t want to go there now. Probably the reason I suffered is to spread the word, make people more aware, and normalise the conversation around breast cancer and its early detection. I’m a science student, educated and I still didn’t pay heed to the symptoms. In many cases, the detection happens at a much later stage.

You’ve actually been fairly open about every stage of treatment that you went through. What drove you to do that?
If I celebrate the fact that I had cancer, I’m not celebrating the disease, but the way I fought it. While undergoing treatment, I’ve even walked the ramp. If I had allowed myself to feel like a victim, I don’t know what I would have done. We all have problems in our lives, but we don’t get labelled as survivors of that. Then, why label one as a cancer survivor? When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I didn’t know the outcome, and I refused to harp on the kind of pain one goes through. In fact, I did a lot of pre-production work while I was undergoing chemotherapy. The day you stop blaming yourself or anyone else for what happens, people will stop seeing you through that prism. As a writer-director, when I walk into a room today, people see me as a professional, not a cancer survivor playing the sympathy card.

When you started speaking about your treatment on social media, you were heavily trolled. Were you put off with the insensitivity out there?
Some people trolled me because they thought that I was getting treated at some fancy hospital in the US. But I got myself treated in Mumbai. Having said that, even if I was getting treated abroad, why should I be judged for it? I was trolled for seeking publicity post my treatment, for being a trophy wife and a social climber. I’m not guilty of these things, so they didn’t affect me. I remember, I was trolled for going bald during chemo. That exposed me to insensitivity of another kind. But with all this came prayers, good wishes and love, too, and I chose not to hide behind walls. When I started growing my mane again, they called Ayushmann and me brothers and said, ‘do bande chale aa rahe hain’ on social media. I’d be lying if I said these things never affected me, but I’ve learnt the art of pulling up my spirit. Social media can also be a pleasant place. While I was going through chemotherapy, someone wrote to me that I look hot with the bald look. Several women feel so conscious after undergoing mastectomy and reconstruction. When I went through it, I realised this is not what defines me or any woman. How does the size of the breast define who I am? Women are much more than that.

You have made three short films and are gearing up for your first feature. With a successful spouse at home, does it get a tad bit harder to find your own space, professionally?
Ayushmann and I go a long way together. We did theatre together for 10 years, after which he became a radio jockey, a TV host and then an actor. I stuck to a corporate job, and wrote and directed plays on the side because I didn’t have the conviction to make a career out of it. I come from a family of educationists, and we’re taught to make stability the premise of life. In both our families, no one had ventured into this business. Ayushmann made his way with his conviction and achieved what he dreamt of. He had found his calling while I dabbled in jobs that I wasn’t happy with. I was full of doubt and insecurity about where I was headed. When a partner becomes successful, people know you through him. The onus is yours to change that. Today, my name goes as Kashyap-Khurrana. I’m evolved, confident and in agreement with who I am. It would have been the easiest for me to ask my husband to start a company for me or to get me work, but that won’t make me happy. It’s not me. I’ve been trying to make a feature for long. Even when I made my first short, Toffee, which was partly sponsored by Ayushmann, I was very restless till someone bought it over and everyone got their money back. People take a long time to invest even Rs 500 in your work. The lull can be demotivating.

A few months ago, Ayushmann in his interview to BT had said that he wants you to direct him in a feature film. Are you ready for that?
At home, we’re equals but professionally, he’s my senior now. He may want me to direct him, but I also have to be in a position to do that. I have to earn it, and he has to like my script. It doesn’t seem right to start my feature with him in it just because he’s my husband.

As a couple, Ayushmann and you have been together since high school. What do you think has kept the two of you so strong and connected?
I respect my man and he respects me, too. I want to give him the space to grow while I find my way and he wants to give me my share of that space. When two people in a relationship believe in giving, the relationship blossoms. It’s not the tag of marriage that holds Ayushmann and me together, we’re companions. When I was pregnant and almost disconnected from the world around me, my partner did everything to keep me abreast with things. Till date, he shares his music with me, and I tell him which books he should read. When struggles and success are shared, relationships shine.