Fight FEAR
Understanding , Underwearing
It is not difficult to imagine a right-wing vehicle reacting strongly to what they perceive to be contaminating influences of the 'authentic' that they zealously guard. It is, in fact, even easier to imagine that a political fabric that has resorted to every kind of staged drama of 'authentic' to build its own inner confidence. The metaphor of an inviolable/invincible male, that perceives its female property being appropriated by alien seduction as violation of its own sovereignty, in this case is hard to avoid. Much like Katrina in Namastey London finally came around and dumped the white boy and embraced Akshay's nourishing Desi masculinity to corroborate the crisis in nationalist masculinity.
V-day hullabaloo has escalated in most big cities (with Sena/Bajrang Dal folks destroying shop windows displaying V-day pretty things etc.)over the past few years. Increasing flows of global capital into our cities have accelerated the consumption and production of 'global' cultures on cityscapes. This aggravates the right and pokes their masculine anxiety even more. The recent attacks on women are a specific kind of lament of shaky nationalist masculinity losing 'control' over its women.
So what does the Pink-Chaddi campaign signify in this crisis? A direct and provocative opposition/rejection of oppressive masculinity. The obvious image of underwear signifiying feminist politics of personal becoming political. The cliched argument against this technology of radical opposition will be that it is the preserve of urbane, pubgoing, cigarette-smoking women who exclude other sections from their expressions of dissent. To me that is boring critique as it is obviously one form of feminist subjectivity that is legitimate and expess-worthy, of the many that can exist. In fact, it is probably better off being exclusionary than urbane bubblegum women being 'inclusive' by purporting to speak for large numbers that we can't possibly represent.
I want to poke the question of the celebratory/emancipatory role played by the Pink Chaddi here. The provocative image of underwear carries on its shoulders histories of clothing and containing of the body as a modality of power, the Chaddi definitely comes with baggage. The notion that a symbol of repression that is rooted in the ''vernacular'' packaging of the Hindu right has to evoke a symbol of freedom that is rooted in mass cultures of production of the erotic (pink + chaddi) carries, to my mind, troublesome implications that the way out of oppressive ''vernacular'' patriarchies are in global commodity chains. Of course, numerous examples from Bollywood come to mind, where the elusive, defiant sexuality of the woman is captured and contained once she submits to the hero's overtures and to the proposition of being owned. She is then, a good woman, a non-threatening one. The PCC turns the symbols upside down, and shows the bad, pubgoing woman as having accessed freedom. It sticks with the binaries of sari-vernacular-submissive, leather-skirt-defiant though. My question remains that in the act of opposition to oppressive nationalist masculinity, does freedom have to be contained in the Panty and coloured Pink? Does Victoria's Secret hand us the freedom that Hindu right moral police try to destroy?
V-day hullabaloo has escalated in most big cities (with Sena/Bajrang Dal folks destroying shop windows displaying V-day pretty things etc.)over the past few years. Increasing flows of global capital into our cities have accelerated the consumption and production of 'global' cultures on cityscapes. This aggravates the right and pokes their masculine anxiety even more. The recent attacks on women are a specific kind of lament of shaky nationalist masculinity losing 'control' over its women.
So what does the Pink-Chaddi campaign signify in this crisis? A direct and provocative opposition/rejection of oppressive masculinity. The obvious image of underwear signifiying feminist politics of personal becoming political. The cliched argument against this technology of radical opposition will be that it is the preserve of urbane, pubgoing, cigarette-smoking women who exclude other sections from their expressions of dissent. To me that is boring critique as it is obviously one form of feminist subjectivity that is legitimate and expess-worthy, of the many that can exist. In fact, it is probably better off being exclusionary than urbane bubblegum women being 'inclusive' by purporting to speak for large numbers that we can't possibly represent.
I want to poke the question of the celebratory/emancipatory role played by the Pink Chaddi here. The provocative image of underwear carries on its shoulders histories of clothing and containing of the body as a modality of power, the Chaddi definitely comes with baggage. The notion that a symbol of repression that is rooted in the ''vernacular'' packaging of the Hindu right has to evoke a symbol of freedom that is rooted in mass cultures of production of the erotic (pink + chaddi) carries, to my mind, troublesome implications that the way out of oppressive ''vernacular'' patriarchies are in global commodity chains. Of course, numerous examples from Bollywood come to mind, where the elusive, defiant sexuality of the woman is captured and contained once she submits to the hero's overtures and to the proposition of being owned. She is then, a good woman, a non-threatening one. The PCC turns the symbols upside down, and shows the bad, pubgoing woman as having accessed freedom. It sticks with the binaries of sari-vernacular-submissive, leather-skirt-defiant though. My question remains that in the act of opposition to oppressive nationalist masculinity, does freedom have to be contained in the Panty and coloured Pink? Does Victoria's Secret hand us the freedom that Hindu right moral police try to destroy?
How are you?
A mob of 70-80 men shamed India’s safest city groped and molested two young women for some 15 minutes on a busy main street in Mumbai’s glamour district Juhu early on New Year’s Day.
An identical incident had shamed India’s safest city exactly a year ago — a girl was molested by New Year’s eve revellers at the Gateway of India. That incident was captured on film by a popular Mumbai tabloid; Tuesday morning’s horror was shot by two Hindustan Times lensmen who happened to be on the spot.
The women — one in a black dress, the other in a jeans and top — emerged from the JW Marriott with two male friends around 1.45 am, and began walking towards Juhu beach close by.
A mob of about 40 got after them and began teasing the women. One of the women swore loudly at the hooligans.
But the mob, now 70-80 strong, wouldn’t let go. They trapped the women near a vehicle and a tree, and pounced on them. A man in a white shirt tore off the black dress. Another, in a blue shirt, led the assault. As the women fell on the ground, dozens of men jumped on them.
At which point, HT’s Satish Bate spotted a police van and shouted. Senior Inspector Amarjeet Singh rushed in swinging his cane and chased away the mob. He took the victims to the Juhu police station. However, no case was registered, Juhu police station in-charge Shivaji Tadlapurkar said.
An identical incident had shamed India’s safest city exactly a year ago — a girl was molested by New Year’s eve revellers at the Gateway of India. That incident was captured on film by a popular Mumbai tabloid; Tuesday morning’s horror was shot by two Hindustan Times lensmen who happened to be on the spot.
The women — one in a black dress, the other in a jeans and top — emerged from the JW Marriott with two male friends around 1.45 am, and began walking towards Juhu beach close by.
A mob of about 40 got after them and began teasing the women. One of the women swore loudly at the hooligans.
But the mob, now 70-80 strong, wouldn’t let go. They trapped the women near a vehicle and a tree, and pounced on them. A man in a white shirt tore off the black dress. Another, in a blue shirt, led the assault. As the women fell on the ground, dozens of men jumped on them.
At which point, HT’s Satish Bate spotted a police van and shouted. Senior Inspector Amarjeet Singh rushed in swinging his cane and chased away the mob. He took the victims to the Juhu police station. However, no case was registered, Juhu police station in-charge Shivaji Tadlapurkar said.
A mob of 70-80 men groped and molested two young for some 15 minutes on a busy main street in Mumbai’s glamour district Juhu ...the mob, now 70-80 strong..trapped the near a vehicle and a tree, and pounced on them. A in a white shirt tore off the black dress. blue shirt, led the assault. As the fell on the ground, dozens of jumped on them.
A mob of 70-80 men groped and molested two young women for some 15 minutes on a busy main street in Mumbai’s glamour district Juhu ...the mob, now 70-80 strong..trapped the near a vehicle and a tree, and pounced on them. A in a white shirt tore off the black dress. blue shirt, led the assault. As the women fell on the ground, dozens of men jumped on them.
A mob of 70-80 men groped and molested two young women for some 15 minutes on a busy main street in Mumbai’s glamour district. shamed India’s safest city
A mob of 70-80 groped and molested two young women for some 15 minutes go. They trapped the women near a vehicle and a tree, and pounced on them. A man in a white shirt tore off the black dress.on a busy main street in Mumbai’s glamour district Juhu early on New Year’s Day.But the mob, now 70-80 strong, wouldn’t let Another, in a blue shirt, led the assault. As the women fell on the ground, dozens of men jumped on them.
A mob of 70-80 men groped and molested two young women for some 15 minutes on a busy main street in Mumbai’s glamour district Juhu early on New Year’s Day. 70-80 , wouldn’t let go.trapped the near a vehicle and a tree, and pounced on them. in a white shirt tore off the black dress, blue shirt, led the assault. As the fell on the ground, dozens of jumped on them.
A mob of 70-80 men groped and molested two young women for some 15 minutes on a busy main street in Mumbai’s glamour district Juhu early on New Year’s Day.
A mob of 70-80 men groped and molested two young women for some 15 minutes on a busy main street in Mumbai’s glamour district Juhu early on New Year’s Day. shamed India’s safest city
14 days later .... 'how are you?'
Are you shocked enough ? For how long? Have you already moved on? Does this mean more rules for new year's eve? What is a mob? Who is a mob? Are you stirred enough? Do you expect it? Was this 'bound to happen'? Are you angry? Are you scared? Are you more anxious? What would you like to do? What would you like all of us to do? Tell us. How are you?
Do share with us, your thoughts and reactions about the Mumbai molestation/ street sexual violation episode and we will add you in the list below.
Here's what they said:
Vocabulary - Strategy 1. Owning, twisting, throwing it back
There's a reason it's called Bookish Bloomsbury.
Peppered with colleges and libraries and bookstores, this little bit of London has a portion that is frequented by cyclists and students hurrying back and forth from college. So when I was crossing one of the main roads leading into an enclave of colleges including my own, I was startled by a loud, "Excuse me!"
I ignored it at first, but it repeated itself, so loud that it pierced through the neighbourhood quiet: "Excuse ME!"
Directions, I thought. Students often stop to direct tourists to the nearby British Museum or Russell Square tube stop.
I turned.
A bunch of hooting guys were poking their heads out of their car - "Do you study around here?" asked the one in the passenger seat with a wide grin.
"No, I don't," I shouted back, "I'm a prostitute. Want to follow me?"
"A prostitute??" he said sounding taken aback. The car drove off.
The shout and the rejoinder hung disjointed and awkward around silent Bloomsbury.
I can't remember the last time I have said "prostitute" but it seemed to suit their aggression and a street dynamic I have come to cultivate which requires you to be rude and in your face, not look away or pretend not to notice.
In India people yell things at you and whistle as they pass you by. Here they yell out across streets, addressing questions at you, stopping you in your path with a mock exaggeration. Coyness, disregard, and looking downward don't work so well.
Recently I have begun to reply the buyont, "do you study around here?", the lip licking "hola, hola", the young boys surrounding you to ask directions, the "hello" with actual rejoinders - "I'm sorry, do I know you?" The conversation is always quick to be taken up, but the aggression in the response allows you to be participant in some skewed way in a street dialogue you did not initiate or want.
At Stoke, my friend is brushed against by a boy who could not be older than 12. "Asshole," she yells at him, and everyone at the bus stand turns. "Sorry," he mutters and his friend's smirk quickly shrinks away.
Men sipping coffee on Angel's Upper Street form their fingers into a camera shape and tilt their heads pretending to get the best "shot" of a friend's anatomy as she walks by. The girls that follow her stop to yell at them.
Neighbourhood gangs of boys are screamed at, fingers are shown, gangs of girls tease back loitering boys.
Looking back, talking sharp, packing punch, weaving wit and surprise into street talk... takes some doing especially when you're alone and sometimes embarrassed, but it seems better than being overwhelmed.
Peppered with colleges and libraries and bookstores, this little bit of London has a portion that is frequented by cyclists and students hurrying back and forth from college. So when I was crossing one of the main roads leading into an enclave of colleges including my own, I was startled by a loud, "Excuse me!"
I ignored it at first, but it repeated itself, so loud that it pierced through the neighbourhood quiet: "Excuse ME!"
Directions, I thought. Students often stop to direct tourists to the nearby British Museum or Russell Square tube stop.
I turned.
A bunch of hooting guys were poking their heads out of their car - "Do you study around here?" asked the one in the passenger seat with a wide grin.
"No, I don't," I shouted back, "I'm a prostitute. Want to follow me?"
"A prostitute??" he said sounding taken aback. The car drove off.
The shout and the rejoinder hung disjointed and awkward around silent Bloomsbury.
I can't remember the last time I have said "prostitute" but it seemed to suit their aggression and a street dynamic I have come to cultivate which requires you to be rude and in your face, not look away or pretend not to notice.
In India people yell things at you and whistle as they pass you by. Here they yell out across streets, addressing questions at you, stopping you in your path with a mock exaggeration. Coyness, disregard, and looking downward don't work so well.
Recently I have begun to reply the buyont, "do you study around here?", the lip licking "hola, hola", the young boys surrounding you to ask directions, the "hello" with actual rejoinders - "I'm sorry, do I know you?" The conversation is always quick to be taken up, but the aggression in the response allows you to be participant in some skewed way in a street dialogue you did not initiate or want.
At Stoke, my friend is brushed against by a boy who could not be older than 12. "Asshole," she yells at him, and everyone at the bus stand turns. "Sorry," he mutters and his friend's smirk quickly shrinks away.
Men sipping coffee on Angel's Upper Street form their fingers into a camera shape and tilt their heads pretending to get the best "shot" of a friend's anatomy as she walks by. The girls that follow her stop to yell at them.
Neighbourhood gangs of boys are screamed at, fingers are shown, gangs of girls tease back loitering boys.
Looking back, talking sharp, packing punch, weaving wit and surprise into street talk... takes some doing especially when you're alone and sometimes embarrassed, but it seems better than being overwhelmed.
