How a woman's body-size is like an ATM PIN

A few days ago, this article from the Guardian popped up on my social media news feed. I wouldn’t have clicked on it were it not for this excerpt – “I don’t think it's important to return to the shape you were before. I think if your body grew a baby, that’s an amazing thing and you should be proud of that.”

On the face of it, this seems an important and empowering message. I clicked on the article and read it. The article itself was also undoubtedly important, as it highlighted how pressures to return to a pre-pregnancy body lead some women to taking risks with their health in order to stay slim. My only issue with the entire article was the idea of pride in oneself and accepting one’s body being linked to the fact of having grown a baby. The human body is amazing, and true, one of the amazing things about women’s bodies relate to how they prepare and change for childbirth and childrearing. But the pressure to conform to a certain body-type isn’t specific to pregnant women and mothers. The conditionality introduced into the sentiment – “if your body grew a baby- subtly disempowers and excludes women who aren’t mothers. This isn’t to say that health risks of wanting to be slim aren’t more pronounced in case of pregnant women. They are, and they’re vital issues to address from a health perspective. However, rather than justifying why it’s okay that we are “not the shape we were before”, the message we should be putting out there in response to societal pressures around body-size/ shape should be one of unconditional acceptance and choice (because I believe it’s important for women to be able to choose whether or not their bodily appearance is important to them, instead of telling them it “shouldn’t be”). Instead of empowering people to stand up for their rights unconditionally, the “because you had a baby” part is like giving someone a temporary crutch with which they can ward off societal pressures to conform to an externally imposed standard that shouldn’t be there in the first place.

I’ll segue into another example from a few months ago to illustrate my point. Sania Mirza, a tennis player was asked by an interviewer on Indian media why she hadn’t ‘settled down’ (the colloquial meaning of which is “why haven’t you had children yet?”). Sania’s response to the question was as follows:

“…that’s the question I face all the time as a woman, that all women have to face- the first is marriage and then it’s motherhood. Unfortunately, that’s when we’re settled, and no matter how many Wimbeldons we win or numbers ones in the world we become, we don’t become settled. But eventually it will happen, not right now. And when it does, I’ll be the first one to tell everybody when I plan to do that.”

This response went viral as ‘the perfect response’ on electronic and social media. I -and others with similar thoughts, such as my close friend TQ (who has appeared on this blog before)- thought that while it was good in that it addressed the fact that women are considered complete only once they’re married-mothers, it was just short of perfect.  This is because once again, there was an implication that she shouldn’t be asked this because she is a top tennis player. A society in which traditional, patriarchal expectations are shut down through justifications grounded in successful careers is desirable, but not perfect.  Perfection would be a society where people don’t have to justify their personal choices, period.

Returning to the article, I messaged TQ almost immediately (as I usually do, about most things) and shared my annoyance about the “because you had a baby….” part. I said that as a child-free woman, I resented the implication that the rest of us child-free or childless (because the two mean very different things, and I respect a person’s right to choose a term they identify with) shouldn’t be proud of our bodies just as they are. If mothers get the “you just had a baby” crutch, what legs do the rest of us have to stand on if the ideology itself-- that women should either conform to external standards of beauty or give solid reasons as to why they should be ‘exempt’-- goes unchallenged?

TQ agreed, and added “there is a lot written about pride when it comes to mothers. Whether it’s about body image or about work-life balance or many areas of life that all women, mothers or not, struggle with. As a pattern, it becomes excluding, and therefore problematic.”

This led to a discussion about other situations in which as non-parents, we have felt excluded, disregarded or dismissed. A classic example was offered by TQ, who found herself on the receiving end of much eye-rolling by someone in her neighbourhood concerned about the numbers of stray dogs in the area. A notice had been put up about this “menace” (I use the quotation marks ironically, because neither TQ nor I are the sort of people that would think of large numbers of dogs as a menace. Far from it. More the merrier, we say!). The notice supposedly came from the hearts and minds of concerned parents.

TQ told me how she and her partner got into an argument with one of the concerned parents when they asked if anyone had been harmed because of the dogs. “The guy stutters”, TQ went on, “and then says ‘well no one yet, but I am sure you wouldn’t want your kids to be the ones to be bitten first’. We replied that we aren’t parents…. The guy just rolled his eyes as if to say ‘That explains!’ and walked off.” 

I noted to TQ how the “concerned parents” line is often used to close arguments. Is there a respectable retort to that that won't make you look like an evil sociopath who wants the world-and-all-good-things-within-it to end? 

I often find myself pushing back against the notion that the child-free are just, oh I don't know, soul destroying scum who clearly don’t care about anything. We just guzzle fossil fuels from beer bongs, sit around in our underwear scratching our crotches with one hand while clutching a bottle of tequila with the other, watching trash on Netflix and you know, NOT calling our parents because of course we-are-not-parents-ourselves-so-how-could-we-possibly-know-that-parents-want-to-hear-from-their-kids. While we’re at it, we also like to have sleeping parties to celebrate all the sleep we clearly get (“Because you’re lucky you don’t know what it’s like to have a toddler waking you up in the middle of the night”) and like to roll around naked on all the wads of cash we have lying around (“Because you don’t have to worry about kids’ college fees”).

I can’t keep track of the number of times I’ve been told how I wouldn’t understand something because I don’t have kids. Whether it’s debates about vaccinations, climate change or organic food, casual conversations about being sleep deprived or Brexit (yeah, Brexit. Apparently the legitimacy of my socio-political views is directly linked to whether or not I’ve given birth. Sidebar: I #Remain terribly sad at the looming prospect of Brexit). 

The “you won’t understand because you don’t have kids” line is strange for several reasons. Let’s start with the fact that no one really understands – on an experiential level- what it’s like to BE another person. A lot can get in the way of this. The laws of physics, for one thing. Privilege, for another. All we can do is try to understand the other as much as possible.  Of course I don’t have experiential knowledge of being a parent. Just like I don’t have experiential knowledge of what it’s like to be a skydiver. Or a beetle. Doesn't mean I can't imagine the anguish the poor creature must feel when it's lying on its back, tiny legs flailing, trying to turn itself the right side up. Secondly, it implies that those who don’t have kids can’t empathise with being a parent – which is a very narrow and inaccurate view of the capacity for empathy. There are people who can’t empathise with challenges of parenthood. There are people who don’t have children. They don’t necessarily overlap completely. Plus, due to things like, say, PRIVILEGE, it’s not like some kind of magical shared understanding exists between all parents. A single parent from a low-income household doesn’t see the world the same way, or even see the same world as a parent with a  lot of financial and social support. If I were to represent the capacity for empathising with parents in the form of a basic Venn diagram, it would look like this:

So maybe it’s not just about some of the non-parents not being able to understand till we have kids of our own. Maybe it’s also a case of some parents not being able to see beyond their own experiences and imagine a scenario in which someone could care about principles, values and issues even in the absence of any direct offspring that may be affected by said issues. For instance, I don’t need to have children in order to be concerned about climate change. My love for polar bears and feeling of solidarity with people in the rapidly sinking pacific islands has that covered.

To this category of parents, I’d just like to say the following: I am pleased for you if you anchor your moral and ethical compass around your children. In some cases, maybe it took having kids in order for you to discover or strengthen your morals and ethics. But if you could please refrain from assuming moral, ethical and intellectual bankruptcy on the part of those of us that don’t have kids, that would be great.

As for challenging social pressures, when you start to justify yourself in response to ridiculous expectations, it gives them a legitimacy they don’t deserve. Worse, it does absolutely nothing to challenge the insidious ideology behind the expectations.

So I propose the following, alternative response. Here's how I'd like to see such conversations go-

Person A:  “When are you going to lose all that weight?”

Person B: “What’s your ATM PIN number?”

Person A: “That’s none of your business!”

Person B: “Exactly. Glad we clarified that.”

Clean ≠ Fair

It is either my good fortune or bad that I am not exposed to Indian advertisements on a regular basis any longer. Recently, a friend posted a link to this article about a new feminine hygiene/ beauty product that appears to have hit the Indian markets- Clean and Dry.

While I agree with many of the points made by Pal (the author)- namely the objectification of women and the locating of their self-worth entirely in how their physical self is perceived by others- I’d like to offer my own thoughts on the product and the ad which I believe are quite distinct from one another (a distinction not clearly apparent in the above mentioned article). I believe that the advertisement is not only a failure as far as feminism is concerned but also as far as good advertising is concerned.

The ad

The advertisement is awful and misogynistic on several accounts. Firstly, let’s take the song. The ad opens with a wistful female voice singing ‘Kho Gaye Hum Kahan…’ Only problem is, the 'hum' (i.e. the duo) do not appear lost in the slightest. The woman is in grief. The man clearly is not.

This line could potentially also apply to any domestic difficulty from infidelity to divorce to bankruptcy. I'm sure a coffee company could recycle the same song and make an ad opening with the same sequence as this one ending in the couple being all happy and content because they changed their brand of coffee. So for me, apart from the fact that the ad depicts the woman (and only the woman) fretting over/ mourning a loss that later turns out to be related to her partner's sexual interest in her, the song in the ad is abrupt, unclear and well, pointless.

The final line of the song is 'Jaana na, hai taazgi yahan' (roughly translated as 'Don't go, here be freshness!) which plays soon after the woman throws the man's keys down her shorts. Is she inviting him to have sex or begging him to stay because she has now 'fixed the problem'?

The man is depicted as being either totally oblivious of his partner’s anguish or totally unconcerned by her distress. Both are fairly undesirable stances. He’s shown to be reading the paper –a somewhat intellectual activity (depending on which paper one reads of course) and carrying on with his life while she ponders over what is lost in their relationship. This suggests that her self-worth begins and ends with how often she and her partner have sex while his sense of self is undisturbed by this aspect of their relationship.

Anatomical ambiguity

My main critique of Pal's article is the failure to distinguish between various components of female genitalia and the use of the word ‘vagina’ by the author when this ad seems to refer to an larger area. I'd like to stress that I am not defending the ad or its ambiguity but only pointing out an anatomical-linguistic inaccuracy that reduces the clarity of what is being communicated. The vagina is not the most visible part of the genitals so it’s more likely that the focus of beautification is on external genitalia. Cosmetic surgery to make the genitals 'look nicer' is increasingly becoming popular in the west and almost always or majorly involves a reconstruction, realignment etc. of the vulva or labia.

Beauty vs. Hygiene

It is very interesting that the ad for the intimate wash is drastically different in its content from an ad for a cream version of the same brand/ product.

Here’s the ad for the wash

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Tx9vVVMWw0

And here’s the ad for the cream

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SWRg8XvmzHA

I’m going to bullet-point the major points of departure between the two commercials

- The former has beautification as it’s core benefit while the latter emphasises hygiene (with the almost too professional looking doctor as the main protagonist).

- In the former, the woman’s unhappiness is relational. I.e. it is not limited to how she feels about herself but rather how her partner responds to/ feels about her. In the latter there is no mention of a relationship/ partner/ sexual desirability as the doctor speaks to an animated version of a female patient about discomfort, problems and infections in the genital region. This suggests a more internal sense of comfort/ happiness with one’s body and how one feels about oneself rather than approval from one’s partner in the form of a willingness to engage in coitus.

- The latter makes direct references to possible infections and problems women may experience which is totally absent in the former, giving viewers misguided impressions about the cause of the woman’s dissatisfaction with her genitals and contributing to a negative perception of female genitalia in general.

- There is no silly song or wistful longing in the latter as there is in the former

All of the above make the former misogynistic and offensive and the latter more acceptable.

(On a side note, it is also interesting that the woman in the former appears more ‘modern’/’western’ – clad in shorts- as compared to both the doctor and the animated woman in the latter – wearing saris and salwar-kameez respectively. I may be hypothesising here, but it may reflect the assumption that ‘traditionally’ attired women are more concerned with practical/health issues than sex. The eternal mother/whore dichotomy in traditional Indian psyche. Not entirely implausible, given the appalling views recently expressed regarding the attire and habits of female rape victims).

The existence of an inoffensive ad for a similar product makes it easier for me to isolate the product from the ad and criticise only the advertisement.

The distinction between beauty and hygiene/medical reasons is quite an important one – whether it’s in the field of everyday products or surgery.

I think in general, if there is a new over the counter cream for genital infections/ discomfort, and it is advertised as such, it is a good rather than a bad thing if it allows women to get access to effective medication for non-serious conditions.

The biggest problem with the first ad therefore is its emphasis on ‘fairness’ and a complete lack of any hygiene related advantages to using the product. The unfortunate truth is that the existence of a product that promises to make the nether regions ‘fairer’ doesn’t surprise me. Why would it? It seems like a natural progression after Fair & Lovely (for the face) and Fairglow soap (for the body). Though it is utterly deplorable, I’m not going offer a detailed critique of the fairness bias in Indian – particularly North Indian- society or the fact that in almost all advertising campaigns pertaining to ‘fairness’ products a woman’s physical appearance determines her competence, employability, confidence et cetera, et cetera. I’m in general agreement with feminist writers about the points they make regarding the objectification of women in Indian advertising.

‘Beautification’ of female genitalia and violence against women: related but distinct

Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) (Those who don’t know what this is can read about it here) is beautification of female genitalia at its worst, performed on girls as young as a year old in several countries, majority of which are in Africa. It is torture and abuse practiced on the pretext of ‘religious custom/ duty’ and/or making the woman’s genitalia more pleasing- visually and sexually- for males.

I attended a seminar on Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) in which an FGM nurse specialist was talking about how, in her perception, FGM was also on a continuum of prejudiced, gender discriminatory and archaic patriarchal attitudes, and adult women who opted for cosmetic surgery on their genitals or even piercings etc. in the genitals were willing participants and perpetuators of these attitudes. I haven’t formulated my thoughts coherently on where I stand with regards to such a comparison, but I can try to see the point she’s trying to make.

One of the readers of Pal’s article commented that in a free market people should be permitted to advertise whatever they want while another commented that women who get drawn into the pull of these skin-lightening products based on advertising and marketing don’t deserve much sympathy. On the other hand one could argue that societal attitudes and prejudices are so deeply ingrained and social pressures so high that women who rebel and don’t conform risk ridicule/ disparagement/ isolation and in many cases, let’s be honest, torture/ abuse and even death.

Women who opt for cosmetic surgery to make their genitals more ‘aesthetically pleasing’ may or may not be doing so under pressure to conform. Aggressive advertising by the beauty and cosmetic surgery market probably does have a negative impact on how female (and male consumers) evaluate their own self-esteem and self-worth but the fact of the matter is that women are free to pierce their clitoris and consent to a doctor taking a knife to their genitals should they be so inclined.

The increasing popularity of cosmetic surgery is not something to celebrate because it indicates that we are tumbling down a path of insecurity and unhappiness with our physical selves and moving from an internal to an external locus of evaluation that, especially for women, begins and ends with how they look.

For many, FGM may lie on the same continuum as cosmetic surgery but while the former is criminally abusive the latter is merely tragic. To put things simply, preventing women from opting for genital reconstruction for aesthetic reasons is not the way to tackle FGM. Similarly, it is tragically true that the objectification of women occurs at varying levels and degrees. While all of its forms, levels and degrees are unacceptable, all of them are not the same as rape and violent sexual assault. There is a distinction between social attitudes that contribute to violence against women and girls and acts of violence. Tackling both is essential if we are to create a world in which women and girls can live free from fear of violence but the distinction between the two must not be lost.

It's not okay until I say so, don't think I said yes because I didn't say no- Why parenthood ought to be like sexual consent

(Disclaimer: The following post applies only to situations where women undergo sterilisation or seek to terminate their pregnancy entirely out of choice and not to situations where women are forced or coerced into these decisions, as often occurs in cases of domestic abuse)

In the UK, if you want to have an abortion or a tubectomy (female sterilisation), your doctor will recommend that you go see a counsellor. The argument is that these processes are impossible and hard to reverse respectively and women seeking them should be sure of their decision. I fully agree that women should think about the decision very seriously and I have no objection to women being offered counselling, as long as they are not compelled to take the offer up because I believe that ultimately, women have absolute autonomy over their bodies and lives.

The other aspect is informed consent so that women understand the procedure, risks as well as potential consequences. While this is desirable for any medical intervention, in case of abortions and sterilisation it is sometimes taken too far. There was recently an uproar (definitely in my head!) about women in certain American states being forced to view an ultrasound image of the foetus and listen to its heartbeat before they can have their pregnancy terminated (See here). This is appalling to say the least. If women are forced to view images and sounds designed to guilt them into thinking of what they're giving up, I think it's only fair that pregnant women are forced to take stock of what they're getting themselves into and made to view images and sounds of mewling babies, misbehaving children and watch a movie about the perils and responsibilities of being a parent.

I wonder what would happen if pregnant women were given demos of the amount of physical pain they'd have to endure or shown films about parenthood gone bad- neglected, abused children, tired faces, sleepless nights and all the not- so- peachy parts about being a parent.

But they are not and never will because the assumption society operates on is that having children is a normal and it is abnormal to not want kids.

One of the many, many problems with the world we live in is that the two life-choices that ought to be made only, and I can't stress this point enough, ONLY, based on personal choice are often taken up by people because they are considered to be a human given, a natural next-step or the ultimate goal in life. The first is getting married. The second, having children. If you talk to a large enough number of people, read the news, and basically have your eyes and ears open when you're around some so-called-parents, it's not hard to conclude that many people who have kids do so without giving it any or at the very least, sufficient thought. This is because parenthood is seen as a fundamental duty and essential rite of passage for all and sundry, regardless of their skills, aptitude, attitudes etc. etc. etc. all of which, mind you, would be taken into account before you hire someone for a particular job. Parenthood is often touted as the toughest job in the world, a statement I can neither confirm nor deny. Is it just me who finds it utterly baffling that everyone is assumed to be fit and ready for it when they reach a certain age or stage of life (in most cases, soon after getting married)?

The argument that women who want to be sterilised ought to be offered counselling so that they can seriously consider their decision because the process is hard to reverse is trite and woefully incomplete, unless people who want to have children are also offered counselling to make sure that they're sure. Newsflash: having kids is irreversible too.

The way I see it, the consequences are far more dire if someone has a child and regrets the decision than if a woman gets sterilised and wants to have children later on. We all make decisions we regret and we often require a great deal of strength to deal with the consequences of those decisions. A woman who regrets her decision to get sterilised only to realise later in life that she wants to be a mother still has the option of becoming a parent through a reversal or through adoption. Yes, she may feel regret, guilt or other upsetting emotions but she will be taking responsibility for her actions, and this is how it should be. On the other hand, the only option facing a woman who gives birth to a child only to realise she doesn't want to be a mother is to give up the child or worse, to give up on the child. Regardless of what happens to the child as a result, this necessarily involves abdication of her responsibilities towards said child.

Society operates on confused, misguided morals if it is easier for someone to conclude that they don't want to be a parent after having a child that it is for someone to arrive at this decision beforehand. The cruel, unfortunate reality is that it is easier for a child to be born, only to be neglected, discarded or abused, than it is to prevent an unwanted birth.

And it must not be this way.

Parenthood, like sexual consent, ought to be an active decision rather than a passive process. It ought to be something you consciously agree to rather than something you go along with.

The fact that someone doesn't mind the idea of parenthood doesn't mean they want to be parents.

A 'not-unwanted' child is not the same as a child who is wanted.

Devi in a black dress

He held up the comic book to show us the cover. It had a slim, attractive woman with flowing dark hair, wearing what he perhaps rightfully described as a ‘Catwoman’ costume- a body-hugging leotard made out of either leather, rubber, vinyl or some combination of these (I can barely recognise fabric if I touch it with my fingers so my inability to make definitive remarks about the material of the afore-mentioned leotard based on a drawing is hardly surprising). The comic book, or graphic novel if you prefer, in question was Devi by Virgin Comics and the speaker proceeded to remark that he didn’t really like devi (Hindu goddess), being depicted in a Catwoman-esque fashion. By contrast, he was a huge fan of Amar Chitra Katha, which dutifully depicts goddesses wearing the kind of apsara-like attire Sridevi wore in songs that invariably involved coloured powder, earthenware and more often than not, Jeetendra. The expressions of the two versions of devi are also remarkably different. The traditional devi looks benign, with flour-white cheeks like Madhubala, a bindi, and a slight smile. The new one by contrast has a much leaner face, more athletic body, no jewellery or adornment and usually has a more intimidating expression. Catwoman-devi makes no attempt to hide her anger where as apsara-devis ride ferocious beasts while retaining their Mona Lisa smiles. All the aggression is projected onto the lion she is sitting on you see.

The speaker’s distaste for the Catwoman-devi got me thinking about whether his opinion was a fleeting manifestation of a more widely held attitude towards women and sexuality in Indian society and culture. Before you accuse me of reading too much into his remark, allow me to add two further points. First, the same speaker had previously made an admittedly sexist comment about how certain comic books were ‘girly’ because of their preference for floral patterns, pinkish hues and whatever else he associated with feminine tastes. By contrast, he felt some other comics were more suitable for ‘boys’ because of their dark colours and depictions of weapons and war. Second, before he came to Devi by Virgin Comics, he had expressed appreciation for the art in new-age Indian comics that had transformed ancient myths and stories like the Mahabharata and Ramayana to make them more relatable to readers today by using imagery similar to Tron, X-Men and such like. This led me to believe that his dislike for the new-age devi stemmed not from a general aversion to new-age animation but from something else entirely. To put it simply, he didn’t seem to mind Ram being depicted as a chiselled, muscular fellow with flowing tresses, black pants, no shirt and no jewellery.

The old devis of Amar Chitra Katha with their soft features, rounded figures and benign expressions represent a quality of nurturance and are more maternal than the lithe-bodied, scowl-faced devi in the black dress who represents a destructive, aggressive force to be reckoned with rather than someone whose lap a child would want to rest its head on.

Aggression and sexuality are inextricably related in the traditional Indian mindset, so any attempt to analyse attitudes to female aggression without looking at attitudes to female sexuality, or vice versa, will be incomplete. Textual tradition in India has for centuries warned against the raging, devouring, all consuming nature of female sexuality which must constantly be kept in check lest it swallows you whole in your sleep. Let us consider a few examples from that oft-quoted encyclopaedia of misogyny- the Laws of Manu.

"It is the nature of women to seduce men in this (world); for that reason the wise are never unguarded in (the company of) females.

For women are able to lead astray in (this) world not only a fool, but even a learned man, and (to make) him a slave of desire and anger."

-----

"Women must particularly be guarded against evil inclinations, however trifling (they may appear); for, if they are not guarded, they will bring sorrow on two families.

…..He who carefully guards his wife, preserves (the purity of) his offspring, virtuous conduct, his family, himself, and his (means of acquiring) merit."

It is easy to see how there is no room for a version of female sexuality that is not simultaneously monstrous and ‘out to get you’. It is in this confined space that sexuality and aggression cannot be accommodated as independent entities and must be clubbed together to squeeze in.

Sudhir Kakar has explored sexuality and the Indian psyche extensively and suggests that the idealisation of women’s maternal roles in society is an effort to guard against the terrorising force of female sexuality. While it is the sort of hypothesis that cannot be verified by empirical methods, it remains a plausible explanation for the dominant attitude towards women. Women must be controlled and as far as possible, kept indoors lest they go on some sort of rampage. Culture and tradition become the tools to oppress, prevent, prohibit.

Why am I talking about idealisation of maternal roles in a post that started by discussing comic books? It is because the relationship that best characterises that between devotees and goddesses is a maternal one. Goddesses are referred to by maternal names such as ‘mata’, they are bowed to and revered, we ask that they watch over us and give us boons when we’ve been good (and sometimes even when we’ve not been all that nice, because let’s face it, a mother’s love is unconditional, no?)

A maternal looking, nurturing manifestation of devi is easier to accept than an aggressive one. Mums should look like mums after all. I know that my grandmother admonished my aunt for still wearing ‘salwar kameez’ after having children (because salwars can reveal the shape of a woman’s legs) and she ‘should wear saris’ because she’s ‘a mother now!’. I have seen a male acquaintance grimace when his mother came to a party dressed in a miniskirt, while his girlfriend’s outfit was not dissimilar. I read about hundreds of ‘traditional’ Indians who expressed shock and horror when Mallaika Arora posed for a magazine cover clad only in a bed sheet, holding her infant son. The same Indians probably had no difficulty ogling at her bikini-clad body in an item number. The crux is that people don’t want the women they fantasise about to look like mothers and don’t want their mothers to look like women they fantasise about.

The problem of course is that respect gradually comes to be reserved for women who conform to culturally-dictated roles- get married as soon as they’re old enough, stay at home, look after families, keep their eyes lowered and their heads covered and never, EVER retaliate when their husbands beat them to a pulp. A good wife (synonymous with a good woman) is one who puts up with rather than puts up a fight. A goddess who is a mother-substitute cannot look like Catwoman because Catwoman is sexy, single and knows how to kick some ass.

The distinction between the desirable and the domesticated manifests itself in other ways. In their book, ‘Half the sky’, Nicholas Kristoff and Sheryl WuDunn observe that forced prostitution is disproportionately high in the most sexually conservative societies, including the Indian subcontinent. According to them, the reason for this is an underlying social contract in which men find satisfaction for their sexual frustration in brothels so that good, upper-middle class women can keep their virtue.

The confused morals and hypocritical attitudes to sexuality in Indian society are hardly secret but they continue to baffle. Take clothing for example. Much thought is given to the attire of women and girls who are sexually assaulted. Public figures have previously made embarrassingly ridiculous remarks about how girls should or should not dress or behave if they don’t ‘want’ to be victimised. Such attitudes- hideously off the mark as they are since women and girls continue to be sexually assaulted the world over regardless of whether they wear skirts, saris, burqas or bikinis- are not surprising in a climate where women must conform to traditional gender roles which often include a sartorial component- to be regarded in high esteem.

Devi, in a holistic sense of the term, represents the feminine aspect of the holy trinity- creator, preserver and destroyer. However, prescribed social norms tend to be in the arena of creation and preservation only. In the dominant socio-cultural paradigm that idealises maternal roles and elevates women to the status of goddesses purely to serve a patriarchal agenda, the destructive force of women has had to fall by the wayside.

It is not hard to see how the divine powers that society and culture bestow on women become the vehicles of oppression. ‘Because you hold the key to the family's honour, who else should be punished for bringing shame upon the family name?’ ‘You can’t leave your husband! After all, it is up to you to keep the family together!’ ‘You're a woman, blessed with huge reservoirs of tolerance and forgiveness… you should understand and forgive.’

No thank you I say! You are highly mistaken sirs and madams! I don't hold the key to anyone's honour but my own, and I'll fight to the death to defend it. I don't have the power to hold families together because I don't live in denial of the simple fact that family's are made of more than one person, each responsible for their actions. Let them shoulder that responsibility- I am done carrying it for them. And I certainly don't have an endless capacity to forgive or understand- it does not extend beyond the boundaries of rationality.

Unless I can claim all aspects- creation, preservation and destruction- of the holy trinity and until I can damn well take as much as I give, I'd much rather be a happy human being than an acquiescing goddess.

I guess the new-age devi, for me, represents a bit of the woman who's done being nice and that's why I think it's a good thing. Also, maybe if more devis dressed like Catwoman- or wore jeans, skirts and dresses for that matter- respect for women in the real world will not be rationed out depending on how they are attired. I don't know what Virgin Comics intended, but the way I see it, closing the gap between the physical appearance of devis and that of women in the real world seems like a good thing.

A critique of one argument against the niqab

A BBC article reads - 'The niqab, says leading feminist philosopher Elizabeth Badinter "is totally contrary to the three principles of the French Republic". Those principles - liberty, equality, fraternity - can be seen written or carved on the front of every French town hall. By hiding your face, Mrs Badinter explains as she sips a small black coffee in her elegant apartment in Paris, you breach the principle of equality". She who hides her face is in a position superior to mine," she says. "She sees me but she refuses to reciprocate."'

There was an article in the Times recently that expressed a similar grievance. The author, Alice Thomson, complains about how while watching her offspring playing in Hyde Park with that of a veiled woman, she felt uncomfortable because she couldn't see the other woman's face. This, if the sentiment expressed in the article was anything to go by, caused much tumult in the world of the former. In the absence of non verbal facial cues, she found herself grappling in vacuum in order to understand how the other was responding to her. Was she friend or foe? Was she smiling under the veil or scowling? The title of the article - You are cutting me off as well as you- made me want assume the role of the veiled lady and say, "Okay. So what if I am?"

Both Badinter and Thomson allude to an alleged social inequality and disequilirbrium that emerges when one party is veiled and the other is not. I find this line of argument bizarre. Even if one forgets momentarily that while espousing principles of equality and whatnot, these women are suggesting that others change the way they dress because it causes the subjects some social discomfort, the point they are making seems petty to say the least.

If Badinter has a problem with the lack of reciprocity in the whole she-can-see-me-but-I-can't-see-her predicament, the issue is clearly her own. What startles me if the fact that she is regarded as a champion for women's rights. Feminism involves, among other things, empowerment of women so that they develop a sense of personal agency. Her first solution to this made-up problem however seems to involve changing the other rather than self, thereby turning the locus of control outward. What is her real problem? Is it that she can't see the other? Or that the other can see her? If it's is the latter, rather than asking others to disrobe, she should put in place structures that make her only as visible as she wants to be. If it is the former, then it is not worth wasting time over.

This scenario is a bit like wishing chlorophyll wasn't green. You can either moan about it, move on, or try to change it from green to purple. The last option is not really an option due to its impossibility, which in turn is due to the fact that it is not within your realm of control. Similarly, how someone else dresses is not something you can control. The only option available is to ban women from covering their faces, but mind you, it is definitely not one that can be exercised while hiding behind the equality banner.

The BBC reporter points out the contrast in Badinter's verbal commitment to equality while sitting in her elegant flat sipping tea. The suggestion that equality will be restored if the veiled women drop their veils, so that everyone would be equally visible, reeks of an unquestioned sense of superiority. Her argument assumes that to see and be seen is something desirable, and the social norm that one ought to aspire towards. Would it not be equally equal, if everyone wore a veil? The question of relative superiority or power would not arise, everyone would be equally (in)visible, and this alleged advantage of the veiled that is the cause of much distress would be obliterated. Thomson also moans along similar lines when she calls the burqa "a passive- aggressive statement, a rejection of the community. The person wearing it is signalling that either she or her family wants her to remain apart from society"

So now we're going to have a problem with people exercising their right to remain apart from whoever the hell they want?

The other pertinent question to consider, and one that is an exercise more appropriate for Thomson, is this- What is it that makes the reaction of a stranger mean so much? I personally couldn't care less if I couldn't read the expression of a stranger in a park. The fact that Thomson does speaks volumes about her. Reading her article, especially the title, I wonder if she would be satisfied with uncovered faces that displayed unsociable expressions.

She writes, "From her eyes I couldn’t tell whether she was frowning in disgust at my bare legs or smiling as our children squealed." Firstly, the fact that Thomson's first thought was the possibility of her bare legs being disgusting leads me wonder if she is projecting her own moral anxiety about exposed skin onto someone else. Secondly, even if the burka-ed woman had been visibly disgusted at Thomson's bare legs, something tells me Thomson wouldn't have been content just knowing that.

So what, dear Alice, is your real problem?

The 'cutting off' can't just be a matter of not-knowing what the other is thinking/feeling, since we can't say we are socially connected to someone who openly communicates an unfriendly attitude towards us. The accusation in the title- "You are cutting me off"- seems more like a disguised plea- "I want you to like me"

Oh these little gendered boxes into which we must all fit!

(Started writing this some time in March 2008)

For a long time I have held the opinion that men are also creatures oppressed by society.

What made me realise this again was an incident that occurred involving my car and me. Basically, it wouldn't start. Even though I have been driving for about 6 years now, and know where the hawa-paani goes, I get stuck when something out of the ordinary happens. I was quite close to home, so our driver came and tried to figure stuff out for me, and was soon joined in by other men eager to help. I was feeling quite silly just standing around helplessly in the parking lot.

As a woman, if I don't know much about cars, I know I will not be mocked. I feel quite comfortable asking for help and admitting my limitations. I have to admit, that a woman can play the "bhaiya, dekho gaadi start hi nahi ho rahi" (The "Look, my car wont start" plea) card. They don't expect us to know anyway. So they have mixed feelings of superiority, sympathy and wanting to be the knight in shining armour to save the damsel in distress.

What would have happened if a man had been driving? If stuck, I doubt he would be able to ask for help as easily as I could. He would of course be crumbling under the pressure of the expectation of having to know. He would fear becoming the subject of other men's jokes- "Arre yeh bhi nahi pata? Aur saala gaadi chalata hai!

I felt bad, and I sighed for women and men. Women and men who are members, perpetrators and victims of a society where expectations of one's capability are frequently based on one's gender.

Two days later, someone sent me a ".pps" entitled "Boutros Boutros Ghali's Thoughts on Women"

Some seem poignant enough to be shared here now

"For every strong woman tired of faking weakness, there is a weak man tired of faking strength. For every woman tired of being labeled 'emotional', there is a man who has been denied the right to cry. For every sportswoman whose femininity is questioned, there is a man forced to compete in order to give testimony of his virility. For every woman who has not had access to a dignified salary, there is a man forced to bear the economic responsibility for another human being. For every woman who steps forward towards her freedom, there is a man who rediscovers his road to liberty."

I don't know if BBG really thought these thoughts, but it doesn't matter. At least not for this post.

In a dissertation submitted a few years ago, I volunteered the suggestion that the solution to societal problems pertaining to gender lies in a mythological construct- Ardhinareshwara. A symbol of a God who is half male and half female. In the language of Carl Jung, someone who combines the Anima and Animus in perfect balance. Gender stereotypes that lie at the bottom of nearly all oppressive attitudes and practices against men and women will dissipate if one recognises as one's ideal, the attainment of an inner self that is 'human' rather than 'man' or 'woman'. Isn't that obviously a more wholesome ideal to aspire towards, than shutting off your 'masculine' or 'feminine' side?

I dislike using these terms. I recognise that using gendered terms to signify a certain way of being automatically assumes the very categorisation based on gender that I am trying to place the blame on for many of society's problems. As I discussed at a conference on Carl Jung with my good friend Comfort, I had a problem with his use of the words Anima and Animus to mean the unconscious feminine parts in the male and the unconscious masculine parts in the female respectively. Of course, I understand that Jung used the words he did, and I am using the words that I am, partly for linguistic convenience, and partly in recognition of the fact that society is organised a certain way, and in order to move forward from that way to a better one, one must begin by communicating in the language of the present. I am merely highlighting the gendered nature of our constructions by asking - Who decided that these parts were feminine or masculine? Let it be known that I do resent the fact that certain traits are considered 'masculine' or 'feminine'.

For women, this coming together of so called masculine or feminine traits may involve, among other things, admitting their interest in football (and having a discussion about it where one's views are taken seriously rather than assumed to be the result of a crush on a good-looking footballer!), curiosity to learn how a car works, or greater freedom to follow their chosen career path. For men, it might lead to being able to admit they have no interest in sports or don't know how to fix a broken car engine using their (pardon the metaphor) big, manly tool.

I don't think it is fair that women have the option of staying home and not working after marriage, for example, where the very idea that a man should want to do so is regarded with shock and horror. Most people dislike working, but do it because they have to. Why is it okay for women to relinquish economic responsibility for themselves, but god forbid a man should do the same ? It is sad that one has to work to survive, that much is true. But given that the state of affairs is such, given that everyone must work to survive, why are women excluded more easily from this "everyone" than men are?

Nor do I appreciate the fact that a woman has to know how to cook, while a man can get by on takeaways for years without having to hear "Tsk tsk, you should learn how to cook!", or be received with shock and surprise when they admit they enjoy cooking. Do men not eat or enjoy home cooked meals? Or do women have fragile digestive systems that can't stomach takeaways? As an example I offer myself. I never cooked for the first 24 years of my life. Then I moved to a foreign country and picked up the ladle and pan. Not because of any externally imposed expectations. My actions were motivated wholly by self preservation and interest because a. I am a vegetarian and b. I love Indian food and neither of these two things are available in sufficient amount and/or variety in my new country of residence.

People's decisions about their own and others' lives should be based on what is best for an individual, rather than for a man or woman. Different rules mean different attitudes and assumptions about what a man or woman can do/should do/ should not do/ is good at/ is fit for/ or deserves. And that, in my humble opinion, is something we can all do without, non?

Oh how glorious the day shall be, when we no longer say or hear the words "Be a man!" or "Don't do that, it's not womanly!"

The latter brings to my mind a situation in which this phrase is most often used- adopting a certain posture while seated. Agreed that it may look unattractive when a woman sits slouched in her seat with her legs splayed apart. But believe me, the sight of a man doing the same doesn't really set hearts racing either.