Many years ago, when I was a wide-eyed social worker (still “wet behind the ears”), I met a gender expert. She said, rather casually, “Every man is potentially a rapist.” I was both shocked and impressed—being a man myself. I knew that such men did exist in our world, and perhaps she was pointing to that reality. But what struck me more was her unwillingness to entertain other possibilities, such as: “Every man is potentially divine.”
She wanted others to accept the conclusions of gender analysis but was herself closed to alternate frameworks. For her, concepts like Aatma, Mukti, and other spiritual ideas were nothing more than constructs created by male patriarchy.
At the time, I was studying the social sciences—anthropology and related fields—and doing gender analysis within medical contexts. For instance: in India, malaria is more common in men than in women, because women often keep their bodies covered even during paddy planting in the fields. This shows how medical issues can intersect with gender norms: men can work bare-chested or in shorts; women cannot, even in the hot, humid monsoon.
But as I grew intellectually, I began to see the limits of socio-economic analysis. If you believe you are merely a body-mind complex, then yes—you will define yourself as a Bihari man, a stammering woman, or something similar. And naturally, you will then have to defend and fight for that identity. But what if you wish to explore beyond body and mind?
What if we added a third axis to the intersectionality of gender, caste, class, language, etc.? Why limit our social analysis to these fault lines, while ignoring five millennia of Indian thought on deeper identity?
Some may ask: Why talk about this “third element” beyond body and mind, when no one has seen it? What good can it do for society or individuals? In TISA, many have been exploring this inner dimension. Through Vipassana, some have glimpsed it. In deep sleep, we return to that state nightly—our original nature—which may be why dreamless sleep is so rejuvenating.
Could this inner peace—this nameless, undivided space—be our truest identity?
Whether we pursue it or not, one thing is certain: we can be more discerning when engaging with social analyses based on gender, caste, class, etc. Let us study everything—Marxism, gender theory, AI, world religions and philosophies from Existentialism to Nihilism—but remember that these are ideas, not ultimate truths.
To know the truth, we must do our own homework. That requires a seeker’s mind, an open mind. We must be ready to explore both strengths and flaws in any thought system. For instance, gender analysis in India—valuable as it is—has problematic aspects that some “experts” prefer to ignore.
To sum up: let us explore widely, but not rush to place all our identity-eggs in one basket.
Even in TISA, there’s a risk. We may take our “PWS” (Person Who Stammers) identity so seriously that we refuse to learn even a few signs of Indian Sign Language. Why? Because “stammering is the worst suffering,” while the Deaf have it easy—they have state support, and their condition is permanent.
Wrong. This logic is flawed. It is sad if a PWS begins to think like this after joining TISA. Let us not lose empathy for the rest of humanity. Let us not turn stammering into a victim card: “I am a PWS. I have suffered. Now society must do everything for me.”
Such thoughts will harm us deeply. This is why I prefer to say: stammering is not a disability needing state support—it is an opportunity to realise that we are not just a body, even though we use it throughout life.
We are more.
Let me end with a definition of a system:
“A system is more than the sum of its parts.”
