The Tribune, Chandigarh, India

THE TRIBUNE SPECIALS

50 YEARS OF INDEPENDENCE

TERCENTENARY CELEBRATIONS

OF ROSES AND THORNS
Indian woman in advertisements
Moving ahead, but not quite there
Laxmi Murthy

Well-aimed kicks at the assailant, expert judo throws and the lady nonchalantly walks away with the snatched handbag. A clip from 'Wonderwoman' or 'Super Girl?' Well, no. It's a commercial for a new brand of sanitary napkins. "It makes you forget" is the adline.

Forget just what, is the question. For it is difficult not to be reminded that women's bodies are the strongest selling point today.

Doubtless, advertising has come a long way in the past two decades, especially in the way women have been portrayed. In fact, it was Lintas' Surf detergent campaign, featuring Lalitaji, the quintessential Indian housewife, that epitomises the 'evolution' of the woman in advertising. Says Mishti Bose, Group Accounts Director at Mudra, "Advertisements reflect changes in society, and it is clear that the Indian woman has evolved much more than the Indian male in the last 20 years. Ads then, are compelled to keep pace with these changes."

From viewing women as implementers of decisions made by their husbands and mothers-in-law, advertisers have now moved to women who proclaim, "The home is my territory, I am the boss here". But despite many women joining the 'Whisper Revolution', being exhorted by a young woman in this ad for a sanitary napkin, to "Run, run, run", and the 'price of freedom' being only Rs 65, women in Indian ads are still caught up in their households. The housewife, though she may now be clad in jeans, is still agonising over ketchup stains on her husband's shirt, her baby's nappy rash, worried that her child is not getting ALL the nutrition he needs, and having breakdowns over that speck of dust under the sideboard.

Housewives --immaculately attired-- even today, are dipping brand new white shirts into buckets of detergent and continue to get unimaginably excited over yet another floor-scrubbing liquid that gives 'that extra shine'. Young Indian women are still anguished about split hairs, and that wicked pimple which sprouted overnight to spoil the date with that charming man who will undoubtedly dump them once he spots the pimple.

So what has changed? "The change has come because of the market," says Kalpana Viswanath of Jagori, a Delhi-based women's organisation. The ads today are geared at the upper-middle class and upper class, targeting the upwardly mobile women, she feels. This 'modern' woman is supposedly more 'free', with 'choices' to exercise.

And this is apparent in the slick television ads where women have freer body language and seem more open and articulate. And more sexual. Nowhere is this more obvious than in condom ads. Kamasutra's selling point was, "For the pleasure of making love". Passion is more up front, sexuality more explicit, and you clearly see the woman having pleasure as well.

Says Sunil Sachdeva, Director of Capital Advertising, "The physicality in ads is a sign of our times, especially with young people being more 'in the face'. What's changed in recent years is that women are themselves more nonchalant about sexual matters. Sometimes I'm surprised at the matter of fact way in which my female staff, which is about 50 per cent, come up with ideas celebrating the body - both women's and men's."

While the male body is certainly more on display than before, media-watchers and activists caution that there is a vast difference between the way women's and men's bodies are displayed. "When a male displays his body, it is an exercise of power, of exhibiting himself. But when women's bodies are displayed, it is still voyeurism through a male gaze, despite a veneer of 'liberation'," says Vani Subramanian, an advertising professional and member of Saheli, a women's group in the capital.

This is obvious in the ads for automobiles which have not moved beyond their standard portrayal of women as sex-objects, overdoing the imagery of the vehicle as female. "She's no walk-over. There's fire inside her. See it in her sleek lines. In the way she sets the streets ablaze," declares the Maruti Suzuki Alto ad, which urges 'instant gratification' by walking into the nearest Maruti showroom. Similarly, the recent upsurge over a two-wheeler ad which crudely objectified a woman's body, led to its ban by a furious Sushma Swaraj, the Information and Broadcasting Minister.

But is banning ads the answer? "Ads which are really bad should be withdrawn," feels Vishwanath, but hastens to add that government control over media, in a situation where the government is right-wing, could turn out to be dangerous. "Censorship is a vexing question, but the government should also take responsibility and not leave everything to the market," she says.

Pressure from lobby groups can certainly effect change, as the experience of women's groups in Delhi has proved. A few years ago, Vishwanath and others protested about a Britannia commercial with the adline, 'Because a woman actually means yes when she says no'. The women's groups contended that the ad went against what they had been trying to establish in the case of sexual abuse of women - that when a woman says no, she means no. The company saw sense and withdrew the ad. Similarly, a recent campaign by women's groups, along with the National Commission for Women and the Press Council of India against WAH India magazine with an offending piece likening Pakistan to a prostitute, resulted in the editor of the magazine withdrawing the item and tendering an apology.

But it is also apparent that there is a change in merely objectifying the female body. The Wrangler jeans ad for instance, which also got Sushma Swaraj all heated up and raging for a ban, is another example of using the female body, but with a difference. The tall and beautiful model, faced with the emergency of a burning haystack, strips off her jeans and briskly douses out the fire, while a bunch of males looks on agape. She saunters off with them still slack jawed. Her sexually aggressive persona is reinforced in the other clip of this ad - where she walks up to the same group of men and demands in a pseudo cowboy drawl, "Drop your pants" and throws some Wrangler jeans at them.

At another level, ad-makers have also realised that women have buying= power, and so are focussing their ads more at them. Sample the ad for VIP men's underwear, which shows two young women frankly ogling a male clad only in his underwear. They are bowled over, literally, and are well-prepared with helmets to save their delicate heads!

Close to 40 per cent of the mammoth Rs 8,000 crore ad industry money goes into television advertising. And over 70 per cent of ad revenue on television come from ads that target women, with surveys showing that it is women who are the big spenders in the family. Importantly, they are brand loyal, and believe in the uniqueness of the product they choose to buy. They buy not only personal care items for themselves, but for their children, husbands and households as well. Besides automobiles, there is hardly any product which men make decisions to buy and go out and buy.

"There is a broadening of the woman-type in ads nowadays," says Joseph Mathai, Manager with Macmillan India Ltd. "There are different types of women being portrayed - from a typical housewife, to a no-nonsense career woman, to a seductress. This in some ways reflects reality more than the stereotyped sex-symbol or dutiful wife," he adds.

So is the Bharatiya Nari buried in the annals of history? Not by a long shot. She is only packaged better: more 'modern' but Indian to her roots. There she goes - a busy executive, driving her own car, wearing the latest in western clothes and attending power-packed business meetings. Come evening and she dashes off to meet her prospective mother-in-law, changing into a sari in the lift, donning the traditional bindi and an attitude to match. Helped, of course, by Rexona deodorant.

But despite the traditional 'bahu' image, there is a certain sauciness to this modern new woman - she hasn't changed her sports shoes, which peep out from below the folds of her sari. And mother-in-law-to-be is tolerantly indulgent of this little folly.

The new Indian woman, while using technology to the hilt, uses it to remain within the fold. Actress Tabu is ably assisted by Samsung Bio-fresh refrigerator to fool her mother into believing that she trudges daily to the market to get fresh vegetables. The message is the same - get modern, get educated, but don't try stepping out of your roles of wife and mother. "The message in ads is the same as that of Hindi cinema and television serials today - accept some aspects of modernity, but when it comes to marriage, family and religion, stick to tradition," says Vishwanath. (WFS)

MALE VIEWPOINT
Money makes the marriage go
Harinder Mohan Singh

"MONEY makes the mare go,’ my English teacher taught me in school. However, it was beyond my comprehension in those days when life was full of idealism and the world was inhabitated by heroes and heroines. The journey over the years through the rough and tumble of life, and turbulent materialistic nineties made me understand that it is only money which makes the mare go. Human values have gone backstage, relentless materialistic pursuit, and the mad rush to get ahead of others by young couples have consumed the most sacred institution of marriage. The ruling deity of marriage is Mammon. Marriages, perhaps, were made in heaven but today, on earth, they are sacrificed at the altar of consumerism.

Commercialisation of marriage has led to increased divorces, broken homes, delinquent and juvenile children which grow up to be a liability on society by repeating the mistakes of their parents. Holy views of marriage, "till death do us part" has changed to "till big bucks roll in we shall not part." Marriage, today, has become a balance-sheet where profit sustains the relationship and loss, dissolves the marriage. The lure and glamour of life on the other side of the fence has played havoc with blissful domesticity of marriage.

Money and neighbours seem to be only criterion to decide everything: the schools children attend, cars they drive, their houses, their paintings, their devotions. One may not necessarily require all this but since it is the "in" thing — everybody has it, so it has to be. The inability to provide these lays the foundation for impending divorces.

Money has changed the chemistry of marriage. Gone are the days when pati was parmeshwar and patni came in a doli and was lifted from her husband’s house on her "Arthi". Bride was the Lakshmi which ruled the four walls of the house which became a home with her love, care and presence.

Traditional values have been replaced by the modern culture of kitty parties and late-night dance parties where couples dance with everyone except their wives. Close-knit and intimate group of couples, where promiscuity is the password are wrecking the institutions of marriage. Lakshmi is out in the world ,savouring pleasure and consumer culture in her endeavour to be economically independent at the cost of neglecting family, children and husband.

Peace and harmony of home and sense of righteousness is being put on the backbench in the eagerness to win the rat-race, without realising that even if the rat-race is won, you are still a rat. What good will it do if your children are studying in the best schools when there is disharmony and lack of love at home?

What good will come if everything material is possessed but the family is broken? A dysfunctional family is certainly not in the interest of creating a healthy and happy society and making a peaceful world.

Why has money become so important today? What is the genesis of this material pursuit which is playing havoc with marriage? If we look back to 1991, the beginning of Indian ‘liberalisation’, there was no Internet, mobile phones, were unheard of, and MTV and STAR TV were terms known to few insiders. Television, mobile phones, and Internet has ushered in the "Information Age" and made the world smaller, faster and utterly competitive. Competition is one of the most valued quality in our upbringing in nearly all cultures.

Our whole education system is revolving around ambition. We are taught a race that enables us to get ahead of every one. We are even teaching a small child in kindergarten to come first in the class. He will be rewarded if he comes first, he will be insulted if he comes second. If he fails, he will be humiliated, if he succeeds he will be rewarded and respected by teachers and parents.

We are creating competition in him which later in life leads to disillusionment and dissatisfaction with everything, including marriage and always desiring for more.

It is said that the path to hell is paved through good intentions. Society, encourages and applauds the vulgar display of wealth in marriage. Marriage has become a business transaction, an opportunity to outdo one another, and establish one’s status in society. Newspapers and magazines are full of advertisements. like "wanted well placed, industrialist, businessman, IAS, software, engineer, status match from respectable family". Respectability and status are directly related to the bank balance.

There is a race going on to grab brides and bridegrooms from these so-called "well-placed" and "respectable families". It is a catch 22 situation. Those who manage to win the race are compromised, and those who miss the bus are dissatisfied all their life.

Compromising for money is very commonly seen among married couples. Inderpal and Rani (names changed) are a typical example. Rani cannot live without the comforts which money can provide. Inderpal had to go through a trying phase when he was without a job and asked for money from his wife. She came back with a box of bangles and asked him to wear them. As luck would have it, Inderpal had a windfall gain and acquired a lot of money. He started drinking and coming home late but continued providing all the comforts to his family. This was all right as far as Rani was concerned. One day Inderpal came home early. His wife opened the door and touched his feet. The same man, who had once received a box of bangles, found that his feet were being touched because now he was a rich. The modernity of the young women seems to be limited only to acquiring a trophy husband who they can flaunt or brag about. Who cares about whether he can prove a soulmate or a companion or not? How many girls want to take no dowry from their parents and rough it out with their husbands?

You need not have culture, you only need to have money. You need not know anything about finer values of life, you need not know about music, anything about poetry, anything about anything but if you have a big bank balance — you are important. The modern young woman, are you listening?

They are exploited in the name of tradition
Ranjita Biswas

KOLKATA: Pristine white clothes. Hair cropped close to the skull. Spartan food and frequent fasts. Silently working and observing religious rituals prescribed by scriptures. Mention the widows of Bengal, and these are the images that flash past.

The widows of Bengal and their plight have figured in novels of great litterateurs like Rabindranath Tagore and Bankimchandra Chattopadhyay. Numerous novelists and film-makers have also highlighted the ill treatment of widows.

Today, the rigidity has loosened a great deal but the economic pressure on widows has not lessened, especially if they belong to poorer families. The extreme penury under which Bengali widows live in the holy towns of Mathura, Vrindavan and Varanasi in Uttar Pradesh, and the exploitation of their vulnerable position can be gauged by horror stories emanating from eye-witnesses.

Assamese writer Dr Indira Goswami wrote both in her autobiography and in the novel, Nilkanthi Braja, how she saw women fighting like animals over a morsel of prasad (holy offering) distributed by the temples.

The pilgrim circuit of Varanasi-Mathura-Vrindavan as a last resort for widows, especially from eastern India, is a trend that goes back to the Middle Ages. There is a strong Vaishanavite influence in Bengal, Assam, Tripura and Manipur. Though fulfilling religious duties in old age is a genuine reason for many, it is also a convenient excuse for families to get rid of women they no longer want.

Shefali Chakraborty, a grassroots worker, herself moved to Vrindavan from native Krishnagar, a Vaishnavite stronghold, with her husband Swapan while still very young. While there, she saw how the system exploited the helpless widows. "Corruption behind a facade of piety pervades this historical town," She fumes. Hampered by limited education and resources, she nevertheless threw herself into work to improve the life of the widows.

The nexus of deprivation runs deep. For every three-hour session of singing in praise of the Lord at the ashrams (abodes) each widows gets 250 gm rice, 100 gm pulses, oil and a token of a Rs 2 coin, sometimes perhaps Rs 5.

According to Chakraborty, even these meagre resources are prey to corruption. The powerful ashram managers siphon off foodgrains from their ration to sell in the open market. Most of the owners of these ashrams are rich businessmen who stay in cities and are indifferent to the corrupt activities of the managers, even if they are aware of them. Even if some genuinely charitable person from outside wants to organise gifts of clothes and food to the women, he/she cannot do it on his or her own but has to go through the conduit where too there is a matter of ‘commission’ or bribes to be dealt with.

Finding a shelter is a great problem in these small towns brimming with widows. Many sleep in the open courtyards unable to find a shelter they can afford. Sexual exploitation is rampant. Rudderless, these women have to give in. To add insult to injury, local people are also becoming hostile towards the women, blaming them for the ‘bad name’ Vrindavan has earned, without looking into the social malaise.

The problem is now compounded further with destitute women streaming into Vrindavan. Even young women are now coming to this religious town, earlier considered a refuge for widows. Abandoned by husbands or parents, thrown out by their families and with nowhere to go, young women come to this holy city in search of shelter.

To provide a roof for these unfortunate women, Chakraborty and her associates have been fighting for a plot of land so that the widows can at least build some rudimentary shelters. But their attempts have been unsuccessful.

Recently, in an effort to rehabilitate old widows (more than 60 years’ old) a pension scheme of Rs 200 per month was introduced by the Uttar Pradesh government. But the list of 502 widows on the rolls is incomplete and leaves out many deserving cases, says Chakraborty. Even for those who enjoy this privilege, there is a problem in the implementation of the scheme. Many of the widows are either too old, or illiterate, and cannot personally collect the money. With middlemen stepping in, the widows get much less than the stipulated amount. Some get nothing at all.

Persistent reports in the local Press on the state of Bengali widows — in the wake of the controversy when filmmaker Deepa Mehta was not allowed to shoot her film Water in Varanasi where too there is a sizeable Bengali widow population — compelled the state Social Welfare Department to send a team under West Bengal’s State Commission for Women to investigate the plight of these widows (January-February, 2000). The preliminary survey, ‘An Enumeration Survey of the Women living in Vrindavan’ notes that most of the widows cannot afford to cook their own meals and suffer from malnutrition. Many starve for days on end.

The report recommends certain steps to improve the condition of the widows, the most significant being arranging shelters for them. Rehabilitation of those who want to leave Vrindavan is another. But those familiar with the ground realities say that very few want to leave the city despite the constraints. They have lived in Vrindavan for years and are not sure if they would be welcome in their homes. Many feel that they are still earning punya (salvation) at the feet of the Lord. Ironically, despite the misery they also cite the freedom that they enjoy in Vrindavan.

The commission suggests tackling the problem at its roots. That is, to see why the migration of single women continues, and try to halt the influx. But so far, even though a year has passed after the preliminary report, implementing the recommendations seems to be on the backburner.