Being a pseudo-feminist

For those who don't know, I have been working as an intern in the Media and Communication division at an organization called Centre for Social Research, for the past (almost) 3 months. Needless to say, its been an incredible journey so far, and I know for a fact, that the next 3 months at CSR will add to this (oh by the way, the reason for not updating this blog for ages, is that I write for the CSR blog now. Just saying.)

But this post isn't about CSR (although I am definitely going to do that some time...maybe when I leave in August?). No this post is rather about how working among gender activists, and being surrounded by issues facing/plaguing women, has slighttttly altered the way I look at things.

Take for example what happened today. I was having lunch with my aunt, and while switching channels, we stopped at Sony TV and started watching Kya Hua Tera Vadaa. Till date I hadn't seen a single episode, but knew vaguely that it was about extra marital relationships. Anyway, as is habit, I asked my aunt the story (I LOVE listening to stories), got a brief synopsis, and started watching the episode. So the story is essentially about a much married couple with three kids, and how the husband starts an affair with his ex girlfriend turned boss. Now the wife finds out, and along with the mother in law, concocts a plan, wherein she leaves the house. The 'catch' is that she leaves alone, leaving the husband to fend for himself and the kids, along with the other woman, who has moved in to the house, to make merry since the wife is gone. So apparently this is a plan, so as to show how effortlessly the wife managed the house and the kids, and how the husband doesn't know a single thing about the house, and how the 'other woman' is a spoilt rich woman, who can't lift a finger around the house. It is supposed to show the husband (and us apparently) how nice the wife was, and how stupid he was to leave such a 'sarvgunn sampann' wife for a 'witchy' other woman.

The story is uncannily similar to David Dhawan's Biwi No.1, although Ekta Kapoor would like to believe that hers is a sensitive tale of adult relationships, far removed from the slapstick which David Dhawan's brand of cinema is. For the record, when I saw it, I absolutely louved Biwi No.1. In my defence, I was barely 12, and definitely not a pseudo feminist.

My problem with Kya Hua Tera Vadaa (or for that matter even Biwi No.1), is that it treats the complex issue of extra marital relationships with naivete and insensitivity. Why should the resolution of the problem which has arisen between a married couple, involve teaching a lesson, let alone such a stupid one? And what is with making a villain, sorry vamp, of the other woman? I mean yes being involved with a married man was probably not the best thing to do, but where was the married man's brain? Why do movies/tv serials and even common people portray the man as a stupid being, who has no mind or will of his own, whose need for sex outside marriage rises above all rationality? I mean sure men can be stupid some times, but give them some credit! And why is a woman's worth as a wife, defined by her ability to successfully run a house and taking care of the kids? Since when is marriage only about these things? Why do we, as a society, portray extra marital relationships only in light of one woman stealing another woman's man? Whereas if a married woman is involved with a man (a concept utterly alien to all it seems) we never say that one man stole another's woman...even then the blame is placed on the woman, and she is called immoral and whatnot. Gender bias anyone?

Yes I know expecting sensitivity and subtlety in Indian television is my fault. And I also know that most people, save a few hard core feminists, and some pseudo feminists like yours truly, wouldn't even bat an eyelid at such serials/movies. Perhaps they would even cheer for the wife, and curse the other woman, but always, always, forgive the man. But for once, it would be nice to see something which is inspiring, instead of perpetuating illogical ideas and stereotypes.

From March 2003 to April 2nd, 2011

***Disclaimer- this is veryyyyy long***

March 2003- 11th grade exams had just gotten over. It was the first World Cup I was seeing in full consciousness (vague memories of the 96' India-Pakistan match were somewhere in the back of the mind) India was to play Pakistan in the group stages. I was very excited and made everyone dress in blue for the occasion, and dressed myself in an orange kurta, white salwar, green chunni and bangles to match. The Pakistani innings was a blur of runs. I remember a feeling of gloom settle in during the break before the Indians were to bat. I remember Sehwag practically killing the famed Pak bowlers, and then getting out. I remember Sachin hitting Shoaib Akhtar for boundary after boundary, and the image of Wasim Akram clapping his hands, inspite of himself, at the beauty of Tendulkar's batting. I remember how happy the Pakis were when Sachin got out. And I remember how happy India was when we finally beat them. What.a.match.
The quarters and the semis are a big blur now...but that World Cup final will forever haunt me. I remember all of us gathered at my aunt's place, the boys in sahara india t-shirts, and me in my tricolour outfit. That first over when Zaheer Khan handed over 18 runs to the Aussies- heart breaking. I don't think I saw that match in its entirety, but it was a very upsetting experience. And I hoped some day, some World Cup final would be different.

2007- I honestly don't remember watching a single match of that World Cup. Maybe it was the time difference, maybe because it happened at a time when I was too caught up in my own life/studies to bother about the men in blue. Looking back, I am glad. 2003 was tough enough, but the baggage of 2 world cups would have been difficult to carry.
But I remember the 2007 T20 victory, and how awesome it was. And how much fun it was to win a World Cup...the format notwithstanding.

2011- It had been 8 years since 2003. I wasn't 16 anymore, thus wasnt as "carry my heart on my sleeve" with respect to cricket. The fun of cricket had somehow faded, what with some match or series or tour happening ALL the time. I saw the group matches off and on, and got irritated by how difficult every win seemed to be. "Does this look like a team which could win the Cup?", the mother constantly asked. No, was the reply from every person. I saw South Africa beat India in the group stages, and wonder when our bowling would finally win us matches.
It was only when India was due to play Australia, that I started paying close attention. But I didn't watch the match in entirety. It was only the 2nd half of the Indian innings which I saw ball-by-ball. The brother refused to let me get up from my seat at the back of the room, and it was only when we needed 4 runs to win, that I came near the television screen, and shouted when we finally won. We had beaten the Aussies, and we were going to face our archrivals in the semis.
I missed the first innings of the semis too. I was tempted to sit at home, but partly out of superstition (since I missed the first innings of the India-Australia match) I went out. I wanted India to beat Pakistan, for tradition's sake, if not for the Cup. And beat it did. A fantastic match by every account, it justified every bit of the hype it had generated for the past week. Our bowlers did an awesome job (imagine no extra till the 37th over!) and good ole' misbah got out when trying to hit a six, a la T20 final 07. Sheer awesomeness. Pakistan was defeated. We had attained nirvana- we could lose the cup and still be a happy lot of people.

The run up to the finals was insane. The media hype was unprecedented. Records were quoted every second, and the importance of this match was stressed upon- how a host country had never won the Cup at home, how it was Tendulkar's home ground and how wonderful it would be to see him make that 100th ton. How we hadn't won a cup in 28 years. Madness. I wanted to run out of the house for the first innings, out of superstition. What if I saw the whole match and India lost? Did I want to take that chance? But at the end moment, I couldn't bring myself to miss the first innings. This was the finals- it deserved my full and complete attention! By coincidence, I was wearing a green tee and blue jeans...and was tempted to throw an orange chunni over it- but I stopped myself when memories of another world cup final when I had dressed to the occasion came rushing back. "Don't do so much drama...be nonchalant- that's how we'll win" the mother said. Fair enough, I thought.
The Sri Lankan innings started off pretty well. Wickets weren't falling as often as we would have liked, but the runs were less. Awesome awesome fielding and bowling (Sree's stupidity notwithstanding) It was only in the last five overs that heartbreak happened. And then it was over. India had to make 275 to win. 5.5 per over.
And then India came to bat. And Sehwag got out in the 2nd ball. Tragic. And then Tendulkar got out at 18. Wankhede, and all of India fell silent. The two star batsmen gone. Was the Cup gone as well? "Sri Lanka has the cup", said the father. My hopes fell and my heart sunk. It was excruciating to see each ball after that. And when Kohli got out, hopes which had started to rise a tad bit, fell deep into an abyss once more. When Dhoni walked in, the father said "Why is he here?" He hadnt made more than 34 runs in the entire series- would this match be different? Ball after ball was bowled, runs were made, close calls occurred. It was T.E.N.S.E.
The who's who of India was watching- the richest, the most powerful, the most glamourous. But it was an event which made every single human being watching an equal. It didn't matter whether you were sitting in the VIP box, or the normal stands, or watching it in your home, or listening to the radio. Ranbir Kapoor wore the same Sahara India t-shirt which your average Mumbaikar was wearing. Nita Ambani had her head in her hands, Aamir Khan refused to let the frown leave his face. Rajnikanth looked solemn. These were people who had everything, the world at their feet, the power over their own destiny and the money to buy whatever they wanted- but that day, they were at the mercy of the men-in-blue.
Slowly slowly the runs were getting made. But the cup seemed very distant. At one point the mother (who was relegated to the back of the room, since it was 'lucky') said "Everyone said Pakistan should be beaten. They said the final doesn't matter." But it did! It so did!
The brother remained expressionless through the match, the father kept trying to sleep but couldn't catch a single wink. I tried to ease the moment with my star gazing "Look Shashi Tharoor! Look Rahul Gandhi!" But I could just as well have been talking to the walls. It was only when we needed 87 to win from 88 balls, did the brother say his first words in god knows how long.
When Gambhir went out for 97 (heartbreaking), and Dhoni made his 50- a nation felt their pain and joy, but was still waiting to see the result. Will we celebrate at the end of the night or go to sleep in a state of sadness?
As the gap between the runs and balls decreased, increased, decreased and increased, over after over, emotions were on a roller coaster. We were afraid to hope, afraid to jinx the good luck. It was only when 6 were needed from 11 balls, that the sound of a cracker being burst in the vicinity was heard. And when Dhoni hit that six, the brother started shouting, and I crossed my fingers, hoping against hope that it wasn't a catch...it was only when the mother finally got up from her seat and hugged us, did I realize what had happened- WE HAD WON THE WORLD CUP!!! The fireworks started in abundance, the tv screen was a haze of visuals- yuvi and bhajji had tears in their eyes, sachin had the biggest smile on his face...and dhoni, oh dhoni, had a strange look of peace on his stoic face.
I can watch those visuals again and again, for the rest of my life- dhoni's eyes focused on the ball as he hit the six, not an inkling of a smile on his face and that huge grin when yuvraj hugged him, tendulkar being carried around the field- tricolour wrapped around his shoulders, kohli saying "he's carried the burden of the country for 21 years, it was time for us to carry him", zaheer khan saying "we did it for this special man standing here", the boys hugging each other over and over again, gary kirsten standing up the moment dhoni hit the six- hands up in the air, that pure unadulterated joy on each face in Wankhede...and on the faces of each individual in the world who rooted for the men in blue.
I have no words to explain what it feels like. As Tendulkar said "This cup doesn't belong to the 15 of us. It belongs to the whole nation" So so true. There is a certain pride on every face on the roads, a certain feeling of accomplishment. It was a collective victory for all of us, the rarest of rare occasion when practically every Indian was on the same side. Watching the highlights gives me goosebumps, seeing the photo of Tendulkar holding the cup- gateway of India in the background chokes my throat. I am not a die-hard cricket fan, but I am an Indian- and this one was for every Indian.

I am so glad the people born post 1983 have their own set of world cup memories now. I wrote this looooong post, because I never ever want to forget this World Cup. I want to hang on to every memory, because it all adds up to the happiness that I felt when Dhoni hit that six. I feel proud of the fact that years done the line, I will tell people about this match and say "Arrey, I saw the whole match when India won the Cup in 2011- it was brilliant!" This one, is my World Cup.

Right to live = Right to die?

Aruna Shaunbag was 24 years old. She was in an honourable profession- nursing. She was due to be married in a month. Life would have been normal, ordinary- just like it has been for many women before her, and will be for many women for centuries to come.
Except some sick man decided to ruin all that. He strangled her with a dog chain and sodomized her. And her life paused. Not ended- but paused.
The man who did this horrid act, was freed after 7 years. Because none of the doctors confirmed that there was sexual assault. 7 years was the price he paid for a crime he committed. 37 years of lying in a vegetative state is the price Shaunbag paid (and continues to pay), for no fault of hers.

The SC announced its verdict on a petition filed by author/activist Pinki Virani (who incidentally has written "Bitter Chocolate"- a book which tore my heart and soul apart when I read it as a 19 year old). They rejected her petition which sought to end Shanbaug's life so that she may not suffer the indignity of the life she's been leading.

Euthanasia is a sensitive topic world over. Out of the almost 200 countries in the world, a handful have legalized it, including only three states in the USA. Multiple debates, arguements, pros and cons have been discussed and analyzed over and over again. But nothing seems to have come out of it...and in all probability, nothing will. Because it is not about an aspect of life- like gay marriages. It is about life itself.
Personally, I don't have an opinion about mercy killing. It is way too complex and layered for me to form a judgement or a definite perspective about it. But one thing I am certain about- it should never ever be legalized in India. In a country where integrity is cheaper than luxury cars and designer clothes, euthanasia will for certain be misused. The best thing the Supreme Court can ever do for this country is never to make mercy killing 'ok'.
I also don't have an opinion about the SC's verdict. One part of me feels they could have taken some pity on the woman and just ordered the doctors to 'passively' kill her. Yet on another level, I think it was completely fair, and they did the best they could.

But there is something so incredibly sad about the whole case. I was pretty neutral about the whole situation and gave it no more than 10 minutes of my time each day while reading the newspaper, till the day I saw that she was 24 when the incident happened. And something about that fact, made me look at the case in a whole new light. It hit me, that no matter what the verdict is, or could have been or should have been, at the end of the day- that 24 year old is lost forever. Her dreams, her aspirations, her goals, her future, will forever remain unknown. An entire life has been wasted.

Maybe it's because I just turned 24, and most of my friends/acquaintances are around that age.
Maybe it's because I am a girl, and this case is a reminder of just how vulnerable a woman is, regardless of who she is, or where she is.
Maybe it's because I suddenly feel the need to value every second of my existence, and pray that nothing remotely close to this ever happens to anyone, ever again.

But I hope Aruna Shaunbag gets her justice. In some way or the other. It's the least life owes to her.

Swades

I had full plans to write one of those "mera bharat mahaan", steeped-in-patriotism type of post for the republic day. And i just might some day...but today is not it. And here is why.
On the occasion of our nation's 62nd republic day, the family decided to go to the nearby temple town of vrindavan. Religious sentiments to be evoked, you would think, NOT patriotic ones. Keep reading.

The outskirts or the entry of vrindavan could pass off as the outskirts of any big city in the country. the roads are wide, there are new apartment buildings, with a whole small town kind of ambience. Very earthy, in a sense. There is the ISKCON temple right at the entry, which as anyone who has ever visited an ISKCON temple would tell you, is a very well maintained, "oozing of money" place and overall a very pretty looking complex. The fragrance of roses is overpowering (in a nice way) and the temple is such that it invites you inside.
We went to the Rang ji temple first, in a fatfati type auto. The temple was old, and wouldn't get brownie points for maintenance of the temple structure, but the complex was nice and huge and nothing really alarmed the senses. All was well up till now.
Then came the reason why I was inspired to write this post- the Banke Bihari temple. The auto dropped us at the end of a seemingly endless maze of small galis and we were instructed to walk through those to get the main temple. And walk we did. I don't think I am going to forget those 10 minutes of walking down to the temple, in a looooong time. The reason, in one word- filthy.
Now, I am not really much of a "cleanliness" freak or 'snob' when it comes to travelling. As in, of course i like perfectly clean and hygienic conditions, and all that...but i think im pretty ok with adjusting to not so clean environments. And having travelled quite a bit in India, i would say i have seen a wide variety of conditions, so nothing can really affect me too much. Or so i thought.
The route to the banke bihari mandir was easily, by far, the filthiest condition i have EVER seen. For the past one week since I got back, I have been trying to explain to people the exact vision, and no words have been able to justify that experience. There were pigs, there were people doing their "business", there were food stalls and the garbage was all over the place- all in a short distance of 200-300 metres. After that hell-ish walk, we reached the temple, practically got killed in a stampede (the topic of another post perhaps), and walked back through the same route to our auto. It was a relief to see normal roads, and 'civilization' again. But i couldn't get over those streets. And melodramatic as it may sound, it haunts me. Not the dirt, or the fact that a place of religion and faith was located amongst such filth- although that did bother me tremendously.

The thing which haunts me is that vrindavan, in its entirety, represented precisely what was wrong with this country we call motherland. We pay so much attention to the outer appearances of our cities and towns, but give a damn to what they really are on the inside. We build high rises, and fancy residential areas, and swanky malls filled with all the brands known to mankind. But that's not us! That is just us, trying hard to be like the rich nations, trying to ignore our real issues, our real problems. The Delhi government built state-of-the-art beautiful stadiums during the CWG, but hid the slums and the makeshift houses of construction workers by planting HUGE billboards in front of them. And then promptly removed them once the 'guests' were gone. And this is right in the capital of the largest democracy of the world, a so-called developing nation. To use an extremely superficial analogy, its like a fat person trying to hide their weight by dressing in the right colours and fits. It would work to give a thin appearance for a while, but eventually, the weight will show.

People in the cities would look at all the world rankings of poverty, human development, and wonder why we rank so low. Why, despite "sooooo much of economic growth and blah blah" do we fall lower in all these indices, year after year? It is because our policy makers, lack a collective integrity. Rather, as a society we lack a sense of integrity, a sense of duty. Things like corruption, "adjust kar le yaar", "manage ho jaayega", "koi farak nahin padta"...they are part of our DNA.
And unless we change our DNA, unless we do something drastic, the cities will keep getting richer, and more posh. But the streets of small town India would remain the same.

No Reservations

Reservations- a controversial topic in this country. It can incite protests, strikes, even immolation; perhaps its only next to communal violence in terms of evoking strong emotion in this country.
I am perhaps, the antithesis of the class of people which reservations cater to: I am an urban educated, upper caste, upper middle class Indian, who has had access to some of the best education this country can provide. So, my opinion would count for peanuts if I make a strong case against reservation. But that is just what I am going to do.
That does not mean I am elitist, or arrogant about my pedigree. I have absolutely nothing against the so called lower castes, nor do I adhere to this belief that only the upper castes have the brains to succeed. I have read much literature on the caste system, broken my head over the mind boggling facts and figures, and know that the whole concept of untouchability, and caste based discrimination, is a frightening reality- way beyond the comprehension of urban India. Despite all this, I have a serious problem with reservation. I have a problem with the Government deciding that since its schools arent anywhere near competent to provide even basic education, the private, so-called 'elite' schools must include disadvantaged, 'lower' caste children in their institutions. This 'shrugging' off responsibility is my problem. I have a problem with people from reserved classes being given preference in promotions, and college admissions, without taking into account what economic background they come from, and frankly, whether they even need such preferential treatment. It's quite ironic that the people who eventually reap the benefits of reservations, are those who are not in any way in need of them, which eventually leads to the people who deserve it, losing out. I am not against the Government giving extra benefits to the poor and the disadvantaged- but why can't this disadvantage be measured by economic factors, rather than what caste they belong to? Why should a rich Dalit be given preference over a poor Brahmin, just because our reservation criteria favours these so-called 'backward' castes?
Looking around, we can see that reservation has not really done any good in terms of integration of society. All it has done, is to deepen the cleavages between the various castes and social groups, and cause more animosity. If we have to kill social ills such as untouchability and caste based discrimination, it most certainly cannot be done by labelling people as 'backward classes' or 'scheduled classes'. This labelling of people into 'quota' category, does nothing except strengthen prejudices and stereotypes. Is that how India wants its people to be? Lets not make reservations a dividing factor; lets use affirmative action to benefit those who need it the most. Otherwise, no amount of reservations and 'quotas' can make India a superpower.

being a 'kanya'

i went to someone's place today, to be a part of some ceremony where they needed married women and one 'kanya'...which i qualified for. the purpose of that was to wish everyone a happy married life...or something to that effect. it wasnt a big ceremony, basically they washed our feet and served us nice food and then gave us a small token and said tata. apparently, they couldnt find an unmarried girl for a long time and i came as godsent. so all the aunties thanked me profusely, much to my embarrassment.
i couldnt figure out why i had gone there, or why it was all happening. and i found it particularly interesting to note one of the aunties who was the resident 'principal' as everyone was calling her- she was guiding people what to do, how to do, what not to do, which side to stand, who is to do what, etc etc.

the thing about these ceremonies is, we dont know their significance half the time. we dont know why we're supposed to be doing this or that. me and dad were discussing today that many ceremonies/rituals were made for a specific reason, most of which is obsolete today. like we have this ritual in tamil brahmin marriages where after the 'marriage' part, the bride and groom play with coconuts and break 'papads' and things...it was made for child marriages to engage the children, but now of course, 25/30 yr olds play those games. similarly there is this one ritual where the bride and groom sit on a 'jhoola' for some time.
my dad was telling me today why there is a difference in the death rituals of hindus and muslims...i mean one of the reasons why. islam was founded in the arab world, where its all desert and sand, and no wood...so they buried their people. while india had lots of trees and thus lots of wood and thats why they burnt the dead. interesting explanation no?!

i attended a wedding once, where the pandit actually explained the significance of every single ritual and small thing...it was so fascinating...and made the whole ceremony so meaningful. but people like that pandit are far and few; most people dont know the significance of the things they make people do, and if they do, they lack the time/patience/skill/intention to spread the knowledge.

its kind of sad if you think about it, i mean we're part of such a rich culture, full of rituals and ceremonies which have deep significance and tremendous meaning. which were made for a reason. and we dont know most of it. we follow them blindly, without realizing their deeper significance and why we're following them.

guess thats that.

the rape of a country

a friend of mine asked me "have you been blogging recently (about the blasts)?" i shook my head and said "nope. everything i want to write, has already been echoed in many many forums, and how. so let's see."

i have read MUCH over the past week. anki's blog was one of the first blogs i read, and which truly touched me, for its simplicity. i have been following rahi's blog and adi's blog quite religiously over the past week. I wasn't brave enough to see the news for hours at a stretch, preferring to go to my beloved rediff.com for regular updates instead. i read the newspapers, read many a sad story of brave people and everyday Joes dying because some sick people decided to bomb Mumbai. 

There are many stories which broke me apart and tugged at my heart. Aashish Chaudhary's story. The story of a family friend's son's friend who went to Leopold for a coffee and died. The  IITian who was supposed to be married in a week to his college sweetheart and died on the spot at Leopold. Baby Moshe's story hurt tremendously, because right when I saw his cute little face on the television, oblivious to the fact that his parents will never come back again, I was playing with my seven month old nephew. The story of the Taj manager, who saved many, but whose wife and children perished in their suite. 

Children have been orphaned, parents have been left childless. People have lost their spouses and best friends. Lives have been ruined, scarred forever. It's a horror, a tragedy which surpasses 9/11. 

I am one of the lucky people, whose life hasnt changed much over the past week. A surge of emotions has come about, just like it did during the Delhi Blasts. There is immense anger at the politicians (i dont even want to start about them- this is the reason why im so apolitical and i declare all politicians chors.) I feel helpless at the idea that anyone can come and rip my country apart and all we can do is watch, because our leaders are too busy engaging in personal vendetta and minting money. I feel hatred towards the governments that have allowed terrorist camps to mushroom rapidly. I am tremendously sad, for all the people who have been hurt by this, directly or indirectly. I feel proud of the average people of my country; the policemen, the NSG commandos, the staff at the hotels, the people of the sikh community who tirelessly served food and drinks to the commandos; i salute the many nameless souls who will perhaps never get a mention for their deeds. It's people like these, who are the soul of this country and who are perhaps, the only hope left. 

I don't know how much good political resignations will do. I don't know whether these rallies that citizens across the country are organizing will be effective. I don't know whether these forwarded mails, appealing to everyone to mail their local MP and the PMO, will be worth anything. 

But i hope it all works. Let there be no more Baby Moshes.

President Obama it is

Obama won! for someone as apolitical as I am, who doesnt support any Indian political party (coz i just dont like any of them), to be super excited and nervous before the AMERICAN elections is a b-i-g deal. I got interested in Obama, during the Obama/Hillary face off, and although a little part of me wanted Hillary to win that (hell, America needs a woman president!) i was nonetheless excited at the idea of America electing an African American to be their leader. But my support for Obama grew when I saw his opponent. McCain, as my cousin said "reminds me of our guys"...meaning he's just as old, just as negative...and just as 'political' as our lovely indian politicians. And the cherry on the cake was his choice of vice prez, Sarah Palin. Oh what a joke she was! I think she really put the nail on the coffin for McCain. All said and done, it was a heartwearming and heartrending victory for Barrack Hussein Obama, who i suspect will be a fantastic president for the most powerful country in the world.I wanted to put excerpts of his speech, but when I read the entire thing to sift out the 'interesting' parts, I realized that in its entirety, the speech is brilliant. so here it is ladies and gentlemen, President Barack Obama's victory speech:

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It’s the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled – Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It’s the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It’s been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

I just received a very gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and he’s fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader. I congratulate him and Governor Palin for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation’s promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the Vice President-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nation’s next First Lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that’s coming with us to the White House. And while she’s no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my campaign manager David Plouffe, my chief strategist David Axelrod, and the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics – you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you’ve sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to – it belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn’t start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington – it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.

It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give five dollars and ten dollars and twenty dollars to this cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation’s apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from this Earth. This is your victory.

I know you didn’t do this just to win an election and I know you didn’t do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime – two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they’ll make the mortgage, or pay their doctor’s bills, or save enough for college. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America – I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you – we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won’t agree with every decision or policy I make as President, and we know that government can’t solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it’s been done in America for two-hundred and twenty-one years – block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began twenty-one months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek – it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, it’s that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers – in this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people.

Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House – a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty, and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, “We are not enemies, but friends…though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection.” And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn – I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world – our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down – we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security – we support you. And to all those who have wondered if America’s beacon still burns as bright – tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from our the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope.

For that is the true genius of America – that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that’s on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She’s a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing – Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn’t vote for two reasons – because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she’s seen throughout her century in America – the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can’t, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women’s voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that “We Shall Overcome.” Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves – if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time – to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth – that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can’t, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people 

Yes We Can. Thank you, God Bless you, and May God Bless the United States of America

Brilliant isnt it?!