The other side of the story (sari)!

     

         Recently I read an article in a popular newspaper, the writer  shared  his plight of wearing a tie to work. No I’m not kidding, and no he was not kidding either. He talks about how difficult it is for him to wear the tie all day at work, a dress habit which is not even in our culture. He goes on about the horribleness of the tie that suffocates the wearer. After reading it I couldn’t but wonder how women, especially the ones   who work as professors   have to wear the six yard sari to work and not complain? When a tiny piece of clothing such as a tie poses  a level of  discomfort I wonder if anyone thinks about the unspeakable things many women  go through wearing a sari to work?

          I work in an engineering college where I have to wear a sleeveless coat over my sari from nine to five. I am forbidden to go to my class without wearing it. So I am compelled to wear it at all times even when it is unbearably hot. It is okay even if I sweat profusely and the color of my blouse leaves a stain in the underarm area of the coat. “Students get distracted if a woman faculty wears only a sari” (it goes without saying the zillion things we wear underneath it) and so, the coat to the rescue!  In other colleges it is even worse the coats are dull colored and over sized. What makes me nauseous is,  more than the coat itself,  the idea behind it. “Comfort?  No you are a woman! You are all about responsibilities and sacrifices!”

 A woman’s body is made to be her weakness. With the curves and the boobs comes the mighty task of covering it up, not just with one or two clothing but more.  If you are a woman you are in constant fear of someone taking a glance at your body, strangers on the road, on the bus, many a time a close relative, someone in the family or in my profession my own students, which is very sad. For some it is a gift, wearing the coat over sari. Let it be. But why force it on (over) all women? Most of us get “institutionalized” a theory explained by the genius Morgan Freeman in The Shawshank Redemption. You get used to so much so that delivering a lecture without wearing the stupid coat becomes difficult.  

 The history of sari goes back to the Indus valley civilization, flourished between 2800 -1800 BC. Yes, no one can deny the elegance and beauty of sari and the cultural importance it holds. But why should I be in one when I am delivering a lecture or when I have to run to catch my bus or when I have to ride my two wheeler  to work?  Why wear something that does not cover the body well enough and blame the woman for not wearing it properly? Sari is no way comfortable for women in teaching profession. A salwar  kameez  with a dupatta gives an equally dignified look.

   The transition for men from “vaeshti” to trousers happened so silently, with no one talking about culture but when it is from sari to salwar for women, many open gutters of insults and point it out to be  the reason for crime against women.  Only the ones who wear sari everyday to work, with the tight skirt underneath (which not only leaves a mark around the waist, but also becomes very itchy), can know the discomfort and the pain.

 Some argue that if a lecturer wears salwar then students will not respect them. This is such a profession that one is respected for not how one looks but one is respected for how one teaches and treats students. It is a two way street, my students respect me not because I show up in a sari but because I respect them. And for those who say there will not be any difference between woman faculty and girl students – a woman faculty in salwar is not going to pose as a student and attend a class neither will a girl student pose as a faculty and deliver a lecture to a class and if either one  happens the person must be appreciated.

                I wonder if ever we will be free from this five yard shackles.​