25/06/2024
I remember a time when t-shirts with catchy phrases, at times bordering on the obnoxious; saucy slogans, and visually disruptive images were a rage, especially amongst teenagers, college kids trying to make a statement. Some were really witty with a cheeky sense of humour, some quite sexist and some I didn't know how to react to. A cross between cringe, discomfort, not so in-the-face but not quite right either. One such copy read somewhat like this: "the great Indian saree, hides just about anything." And its corresponding image was a series of women in all shapes and sizes, draped in a saree. I didn't condemn it completely but I wasn't comfortable either; somewhere, something was not right.
As I added more years to myself, treaded the path of accepting myself in all my imperfections, figured out when, where and how to draw boundaries; as I listened to myself more, the silence became louder and the self became more resilient to societal gossip mongering. And the t-shirt came to my mind. The discomfort which I couldn't articulate earlier.
For far too long the saree has been used as a tool to either sexualise women or to jeer at them in terms of body weight. It's either a chiffon clad sensual Bollywood diva dancing in the rain or an "aunty ji" covering her bulky frame under yards of cloth. At times, of course, the saree is also a symbol of modesty, representing the "ideal Indian woman." Coming back to the t-shirt. It was perhaps reiterating and reinforcing saree stereotypes, of "hiding curves"...aah, curves, a euphemism for that "extra" kilo or kilos!
Well, if today I were to meet the copywriter for that t-shirt, I'd say, the saree does not hide anything. Rather, it accentuates and complements what's essentially yours. Your grace, your courage, your body whether you're a pear or apple or whatever! It flaunts you. Because the saree in itself is a celebration of all that we've been conditioned to run away from, to disown, to hide! You don't have to dance in the rain with all latkas and jhatkas or flaunt your endless pallu in a barren desert to be a diva in a saree. You don't have to wear starched sarees in a Lalita Ji avatar to be the thrifty housewife. You don't have to cover your head or pull your pallu over your shoulder, gossip in the afternoon while drying papads in the terrace, embracing the typical aunty ji. You can just be YOU. In a chiffon, in a linen, in a mulmul, in a silk, in any fabric and drape, as long as you feel happy in it. As long as it fulfils you, your core, your self, your being.
And here's Mithily, a healthcare professional, dancer, loves music, with a penchant for travel and adventure, mother of a daughter, draped in a handspun organic Khadi cotton with a handwoven pallu in Assamese motifs. Saree, where every warp and weft come together to drape stories of myriad lives.
