In response to his
discourse about the
Sari
Dear Shashi
(may I call you that, for I barely know you),
I can't really say I am great fan of yours, for I haven't really
read a lot that you have written. Yes, of course, I have read
The Great Indian Novel and was suitably impressed by it.
And then I read
Bookless in Baghdad and was unswayed by it. Don't get me
wrong; I think it was an incisive book, but somehow it failed to
touch me.
And then I read your
"discourse" on the
Sari in
the Sunday Times this weekend. Much more than the two books I have
read, this small article has moved me so immensely that I feel
compelled to pen (shouldn't I say 'type') this open letter to you.
Please bear with me, I am not as articulate a speaker (or writer) as
you are, but I shall truly try to put into proper words all that has
affected me in your article.
Firstly Shashi, I think your observations about the Sari are
bang on - it indeed is an "alluring" garment (though you haven't
really stated in words who is it really "alluring" to) all of five
or six yards (I can't help but wonder if you have ever tried it out
- six yards of cloth draped around you, that must be something isn't
it?). And your reflections about the different styles of wearing the
Sari - I must admit you really have a keen eye!
"Of all the garments yet invented by man (or, not to be too
sexist about it, mankind), the sari did most to flatter the wearer",
you say. So, I guess I should withdraw my earlier statement about
the "alluring" garment, isn't it? And you, of course, have been just
about politically correct - about man/mankind thing - though I do
think you should have included the womankind as well, but we shall
overlook that for the moment. You have lots more interesting things
to say, and I would like to focus on that. Such as, how irrespective
of the size of the person, the Sari could be used to cover up
all defaults and shortcomings of the wearer. You are absolutely
right about that, women looked good in Sari, irrespective of
their size. Correct me if I am wrong, but without voicing it
explicitly, you seem to be suggesting that today by not wearing this
"masterpiece of feminine attire" any more, women are actually
exposing the inadequacies of their not-so-perfect hour-glass
figures, isn't it? I don't really blame you - you have been out of
the country for so long that you probably don't see the changing
trends of attire and attitudes that I do. So, maybe, it hasn't
struck you that probably these very women who always hid themselves
behind the six-yard cloth don't really care about hiding those
inadequacies any more? Or don't worry so much about getting an
approval from the men folk (and I really mean men here and am
not being politically correct)?
I can't help but wonder if that is what worries you. If that is the
reason why you were crass (as you so honestly admitted) enough to
question a group of professional journalists why they don't wear a
Sari any more; how without any compunction you made some
woman, who was an absolute stranger to you, feel conscious about not
only her attire but also her age. Again, you are not to blame; in
the land of the Mahatma such honesty should actually be
appreciated. I am just making an attempt to understand your position
here.
But then you yourself have elaborated on your position so clearly
in this discourse.
You so easily shrug away the possibility that women indeed feel
uncomfortable wearing a six-yard Sari in this day and age of
rat race. Then you throw light on the real reason why women do not
wear the Sari any more in this country: young women, you say,
view Sari as a rather traditional attire, one that seems to
restrict them; where as the Salwar Kameez or western dresses
are viewed as liberating. In your own words, "... a form of
liberation: it removes a self-imposed handicap, releasing the wearer
from all the cultural assumptions associated with the traditional
attire". Hats off to you, Shashi, for your acute and perceptive
observations. How well you understand today's Indian women!
But wait, there is more to come: on Indian women and Indians
themselves. You say it is remarkable how Indians have been able to
portray their modernity without having to disown their past. By the
way until this point I never realized that being modern was also
equivalent to disowning one's past. You say Indians "can be modern
in ancient garb"; I must be truly ignorant for I just don't get it:
what has modernity to do with one's attire? Or more importantly,
with the attire of only the women of the country? I am sure in some
future article you will throw more light on it, so I will let it be
for now.
Your knowledge about history is commendable too - you talk about how
over the years men (again, only men?) have enunciated great ideas -
political and philosophical - in mundus and dhotis. I
know you have lived out of this country for a long time now, but I
can't help but wonder why you haven't said a word about how fewer
and fewer people today are actually seen in dhotis. I am sure
there were male journalists in that press conference of yours. Did
you ask any of them why they were not wearing the traditional Indian
attire for men? Could it be that they find it constricting as well;
or find the western suit or trousers more liberating? But who am I
to say? You are the know-all person on Indian women and their
dresses, isn't it?
I feel for you, Shashi - when you were in Japan some years back you
say you were shocked to see the western attire take over the entire
country replacing the kimono and its male equivalent (by the
way, just in case you have forgotten, the male equivalent is called
hakama and haori, the former is the bottom half and
the latter is the top half). You are also saddened by the fact that
China too is going the Japan way, with the streets of Beijing and
Shanghai more and more thronged with Chinese people in Western
clothes. At that time you were proud of us Indians that we were
different.
Now you make a trip to this country and are saddened by the fact
that more and more women (not Indian people, mind you, just women)
here are being seen in garments other than a Sari. Obviously,
it doesn't meet your approval. For you feel that if the Sari
were to die out, like the Japanese Kimono (again not the male
equivalent), that would mean moving away from tradition, everything
that our ancestors have lived through and handed over to us. Again,
even though you don't say it, you believe it is the women in this
country on whose shoulders the responsibility of saving all the
traditions befalls, which can be done, simply, by adorning the
Sari. My small mind fails to understand why the men in their
trousers have met with your approval so instantly, even though that
would also mean the death of the the dhoti. By the way, I did
a quick Google search for your images and see what I have found
here:
can you do a quick count and let me know of the 20 pictures you see
on the first page in how many can one see you in a traditional
Indian attire? A wrong question to ask you, isn't it? After all, you
are the Indian man and you don't necessarily have to shoulder the
burden of upholding "Indianness", right?
You say, "our clothing has always been part of our sense of
authenticity" - by "our", obviously you mean the Indian women, isn't
it? And the authenticity is being lost just because the young Indian
women are relegating the status of the Sari for special
occasions and are not adorning it on a day to day basis.
Now, I get it. And trust me, I am completely overwhelmed by your
thoughts and your ideas. I take a lot away from your article, and I
can only humbly hope you will do so too, from this letter of mine.
With Due Regards.
PS: By the way, I forgot to mention something else - your statement
about "Punjabi-ised folk who think nothing of giving masculine names
to their daughters". I truly didn't understand what you were getting
at, and can hope that you will elaborate real soon. In the meantime,
this nugget of information may just help you: In a lot of Indian
communities Shashi is also used as a name for the daughters.