THE angst industry is booming. And, for the aunty with newspaper connections, agony spells ecstasy. Confined to the pages of an odd glossy or two till some time ago, the agony aunt is being offered prime space in most mainline dailies today. Flooded as she is by complex queries, the concerned aunt is doling out advice by the word-count.
Even as distress mail by the sackful is being delivered at the doorstep of many a newspaper office, the overworked agony columnist is busy providing quick-fix solutions to physical, emotional and sexual problems by the weekly deadline. News-papers say this "reader service" has become their biggest draw. Having launched these personal advice columns late last year, both The Hindustan Times and The Times of India claim to receive over 200 letters every week, addressed to their respective aunts.
And if the content of the mail is any indication, these columns are emerging as outlets for the repressed and closeted sexuality of middle-class India. An increasing number of women are writing in seeking adviceon whether it is possible to "pretend" virginity or how to induce disinterested husbands into having sex more frequently. Male readers range from the "I am a very shy boy in love with a girl in my class" to those apparently attempting to juggle time between four lovers. Masturbation is yet another obsessive concern. With bizarre disinformation conditioning many male beliefs on the subject, one comes across startling assertions like: "I am aware that the normal rate of ejaculation for an adult boy is once in 15 days."
Problems regarding examination blues, harassment by in-laws, solitude in old age and even lizard-phobia also receive ready solutions from the agony experts in spite of the fact that the counsellors’ credentials are often debatable.
Some celebrity aunts admit to having stumbled upon this vocation by sheer accident. Socialite Bina Ramani who advises readers of The Asian Age ,for instance, says she was originally contacted to write a fashion column for the Sunday section of the paper. Instead, she suggested she be "allowed to help people in distress" . Between exporting fashion accessories to Europe, running a flourishing boutique in Delhi’s upmarket Hauz Khas village and making time for "late evening socialising", Ramani snatches time to render delicate personal advice to anguished souls.
Theatre artiste Pearl Padamsee confesses that she donned the mantle of agony aunt after a bypass surgery restricted her movements. "Initially, I felt unequal to the task and was somewhat distraught by the chocolate-box problems I was confronted with. But very soon, I realised that my readers’ troubles ran deeper and I became progressively adept at dealing with all kinds of complications," she says.
This confidence is evidently not shared by perturbed professonal experts . Shocked by the "superficial and stock" responses some of the agony aunts freely disburse, Professor K.D. Bruta, head of Delhi University’s Psychology Department, observes: "These women are into some sort of pop psychology which may have detrimental consequences if taken seriously. "
A case that could prove the professor's point is, perhaps, Padamsee’s response to a 27 - year-old "well-endowed" woman’s query in her column called Home Truths in Femina . "I live with my two younger brothers aged 17 and 19. I regularly allow them to fondle my breasts as I don’t want them to grow up breast-hungry like so many Indians. In fact, every Saturday we all sleep together (we never have intercourse) and on Sunday we go about the house without any clothes. I feel this gives us a chance to see each other and feel each other… I feel this is a healthy practice as it satisfies the baser instincts in the boys," the letter says. Padamsee replies: "Even though I consider your behaviour socially outrageous, I feel that it is being well-handled in your home. If all are comfortable, what's the point of disputing matters – especially when you are in charge and control of the situation." The reply is suffixed with a word of caution about "remembering responsibilities while enjoying sexual freedom", but does not indicate the mental or the social consequences that could follow such an abnormal situation.
Not that Padamsee feels the need to defend the stance taken by her – "there is little you can do when people are hell-bent on doing what they want." The suggestion that counsellors perhaps should not adopt this resigned attitude, has Padamsee emphasising the need for compassion. "A columnist's task is to understand people, not to censure them. My column is meant to help people and not air my personal outrage at situations," she says.
And yet, personal notions, which have no basis in medical fact, do manifest themselves in these advice columns every once in a while.
Ramani's column persistently advises people against frequent masturbation. While she tells an 18-year-old-boy that "masturbation will not have side-effects if practised occasionally", she advises another to "be moderate with your masturbation". Yet another teenager is asked to "reduce your habit of masturbating and apply your mind to create and sportive subjects."
Medical science does not agree with Ramani, but then the columnist insists that "nothing in excess is good". The socialite makes no bones about the fact that the advice she renders in her columns is her "opinion" and that she reaches out to "resources" within her to guide people.
"The personal opinions of any agony aunt are irrelevant and should not interfere with the job at hand," argues clinical psychologist Sanyukta Kumar, a member of Ramani's tribe. Agony aunt for the Times of India, Kumar insists that objectivity is a pre-requisite for effective counselling. "My experiences might have taught me that a quick divorce is a better option to an embittered marriage. But this may not be so for another person from a different socio-economic background," she explains.
But it is not that Kumar does not sacrifice such professional "objectivity" at the altar of "editorial policies" at times. For example, she regrets that the existence of anti-sodomy laws prohibits her from reassuring homosexual readers that alternate sexual inclinations are not abnormal or unnatural. "At times these columns take away your rights as a professional to disseminate correct information," she says.
Bruta, in turn, questions the practice of the agony aunt, qualified or otherwise, to "pen two-paragraph solutions based on five lines of a letter". Hours of talking with the subject are necessary, the expert says, before one can diagnose a problem and work towards its cure. "No two human beings are the same. But you’d be surprised at the sameness of the stock replies that these women work out as remedies."
In agreement, Shakuntala Dawesar, agony aunt for The Hindustan Times , points out that most personal advice columnists are quick to recommend "gentleness" and "relaxing" tactics to men who write in saying they are unable to make love to their wives. "What if the man is impotent? Such advice could then aggravate frustration and aggressive behaviour towards the wife. Very few columnists are qualified to diagnose physical problems," she says. A general physician herself, Dawesar feels her skills in dealing with physical ailments qualify her to counsel those who are emotionally distressed.
An assumption some psychologists contest. "Would I be allowed to write a column on medicine? Certainly not. Which only proves how frivolously we treat issues of mental health in this country," says psychologist Sumita Gupta.
Clinical psychologist Sadhana Vohra holds the publications that run these columns responsible for the unskilled advice that might be given out to readers: "Why fault the agony aunts? Thanks to them, some distressed people get to voice their problems in a country where so many subjects are taboo and visiting the shrink is unthinkable."
However, Karuna Chanana, sociologist at the Jawaharlal Nehru University, feels that, given this peculiarity of Indian society, it is all the more necessary that professional diagnosis is offered through such columns. "Where mental ill-health has still not been recognised as a problem, letting some Tom, Dick or Harry dole out opinions is bound to complicate matters. The awareness that certain problems need profes-sional help and not a kind ear has to be emphasised."
Not that the agony aunts would agree. For Padamsee, compassion is the most important stock-in-trade. Ramani, on the other hand, believes that her readers look to her for understanding and advice that is not "clinical".
" Well, no one’s complaining as long as they are not taken too seriously, " quips a psychologist. "They are two-minute counsellors in the age of two-minute noodles."
