Hima's Pages

It was in Class XI that I learned my fully clad body could be deemed as provocative and vulgar by those around me. A teacher asked us girls to wear ‘dupatta’ or shawl moving forth because the boys in my grade are somehow distracted by our bodies. I, an innocent 16-year-old, was suddenly made conscious of the sexuality of my own body and of male gaze. Now I can’t say I was free from ‘male gaze’ or the beauty myth until then. Growing up, we were all moralized and groomed in accordance with the male gaze and standards. However, this incident was the first time I got a reminder about the male gaze upon me from outside my family.

Now, the interesting question is, what did I do after that? I played to its tunes when I needed social approval. This would mean dressing modestly when I am with my parents and family who needed to see me so. But it would also mean dressing appealingly when I needed attention from the opposite sex. Then there were times when I rebelled against this construct and chose to dress in sleeveless and bodycon dresses where it was looked down upon as vulgar, and dressing in unappealing fashion where or when men wanted me to appear attractive. Much later it dawned on me that, sadly, I was always inside the constraint of male gaze even when I was rebelling against it. Male gaze has become so ingrained in the women’s mind that we often mistake it for our own voice and judgement.

Margaret Atwood rightly puts in her novel, ‘The Robber Bride’ : “Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Upon a pedestal or down on your knees, its all a male fantasy: that you’re strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you’re unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet or comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.” Aren’t we women objectifying themselves often to conform to the voice of the internalized male gaze?

Now let me address the recent controversy around actress ‘Honey Rose’ in Kerala, India. She had filed a complaint against a business tycoon who at numerous occasions verbally body shamed her in public. He was subsequently taken into police custody and as far as I understand the matter is sub judice now. But what shocked me was how a popular social commentator bluntly blurted out his patriarchal opinion on this issue on live debates in various television channels. Even more appalling is the support he garners from public for a social audit on what women choose to wear. But honestly, was it shocking or was it just bursting the bubble of my foolhardy wish that public consciousness is really evolving?

As long as this actress played to the tunes of male fantasy, she was desirable but simultaneously despicable for the hypocritic Malayali men. But when she chose not to stay passive and call out the hypocrisy and verbal abuse she encountered, she became the femme fatale who needs to be reigned. Interestingly, these social commentators like Rahul Easwar did not find it prudent to point out the indecency they felt in the actress’s dressing until this businessman was arrested. Now suddenly they want a social audit on what people choose to wear in public. How innocent.