So is Meghalaya then a feminist Utopia? On the grassy knoll beside the silvery Elephant Falls, a shrill cacophony of female voices compete with the roar of the cataract. Women man all the little stalls there. They roast the maize, uncorks Thums-up bottles, spilt open betel nuts, brew tea and handle change. Coins jingle on cloth pouches strung across their hips. They fight among themselves in their frantic bid to attract customers. Squalling babies wriggle on the backs of mothers, tied securely by shawls. So, where are the men? Perhaps asleep on park benches or strumming Bob Dylan numbers on the front porch. Or making sheep eyes at the youngest daughter of a family - the one who will inherit all the family property.
Today many educated Khasi men and women want to opt out of this system, that has, according to them, created unhappy marriages, and an unproductive way of life, economy-wise. But traditionalists far out-number them.
In Shillong's main Police Bazar, young women go out on a hectic spending spree, picking up fake DKNY bags, platform heels, smuggled perfumes, see-through tank tops, cargo pants. The men tag along, sheepish, trying to be helpful, holding packages. They will never be asked to foot the bill. It is a temporary relief. But, on hindsight, a permanent dent on their self-esteem.
Matriarchy has had a negative impact on women too. They have lost out on their femininity, the softer, more yielding, more giving side of their womanhood that arouses the protective and chivalrous instincts of men. For once, they need to sit-back, to let the men hold the fort, to remember that their biggest strength may lie in their weakness. They may lose battles, but in the long sun, win the war.
Indirani Raimedhi is with The Assam Tribune

I want a bahenji, he said. Mirabai-type. My job profile will get me a good dowry. I will make a fixed deposit here. She will do pooja everyday. I will fuck her. She will cook, get a job and help with the mortgages.
He wanted it to be just like it was here. The idea was, he justified, to make the same India everywhere. It is funny, he said. There we are trying to keep our glorious culture and tradition alive. And here it is all dying. He had come, he said, to make his contribution.
I nodded. Chandan, sorry, Chad went back married. Three months later I got a letter from him, by post. Shit, yaar, the letter said. Shit, shit, shit. This saali (unmentionables) is mad! The whole day she talks of nothing but saathins and bhaktins. Who are this shit, yaar?
Postscript: As mythos, matriarchy promises the warmth and unutterable joy of the circular womb. Compared to this, patriarchy is a square tomb. But what about hatriarchy? In a matriarchy, maters couldn't be better. In a patriarchy, paters thumbrule. In a hatriarchy, haters set the agenda.
On questions such as this, in fact on any question to do with India, one can do no better than consult global aeducated Indians (GAIs). It is well known they know much moo. It is equally well known that GAIs love this country much moo than anybody else. Nothing proves this more than the intense GAI investment in making India a hatriarchy.


Pratap Pandey is an academic and writer