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Confessions of the non- violent, heavyweight kind

Right now, the background score to my thoughts that flow freely down cyberspace is the masterpiece by Gandhi. Only this time, its sponsored by KFC & some such. Such is the irony of India today:)


I actually write in context of our freedom. Not from the British, mind you. I think so much that made sense and that didn't has already been said on that matter.

I mean the freedom from the myth of 'beauty'. I spent some slow, unmoving hours in the changing room of Shoppers Stop during sale season before I realised how trapped all women are in the conventional norms of beauty.

Each lady took an armload of tops, shirts, shrugs & leggings to try out. And by armloads, I mean serious numbers, big enough to injure a man who runs into that! Then each one crept, stepped, struggled, sucked in her stomach, & did all this to try out the clothes. Then each one called out to a rohan, ratan, akash, joy, jason etc etc etc to check them out!

As per my observation in the last four years, as India gets more brands and more labels chock a blocking our superstores, we get even more standardised in terms of what we wear. Or what we are being subtly told to wear.

I step out to shop invariably in the most popular shopping lanes of each city I travel to in India, or abroad. Often in the West, it's very very regular. All you see is greys, blacks, whites, or way too many florals.

And I always feel my heart swell up with pride at the thought of Linking road, Hill Road, Colaba Causeway, Janpath, and Paharganj export Galli. The sheer variety leaves me amazed!

But when you are indeed at a shopping mall today, most of our women are trying to 'fit in' with what these brands are dishing out.

A simple walk down the aisle of a store like this exposes how purple has been fed to us as 'the color of the season' for a year now. So be it a Sisley, or a Forever New, a Zara or a Jack Jones, each one has some shades of purple of display!

More often than not, most of the formal shirts for women, irrespective of size, tend to split on the cleavage. Most jeans tend to fall lower than a comfortable waist level. Most kurtis flounce at uncomfortable angles on your arms.

So who on this whole wide world, ever told us that these labels are any masters of our sense of style?? Why are all of us, 21st century working women, who often straddle motherhood, marriages (sometimes a refreshing fling) and taxing jobs,soooo hell bent on toeing the line!

It annoys me. I once stepped into a pretentious, swish dinner and drinks eve on a seaside location in Mumbai resplendent in my red mekhala chadar (an equivalent of a saree) and no jewelry. I remember, people saying that they thought I would wear a little black dress. I told them, I don't have a little black dress. And then I danced the evening away with another lady in a saree.

Somehow, I get the feeling, untrapped in uncomfortable designer kurtis or funnilly fitting western dresses, we livened up the night just by being easy with ourselves.

While being overweight can't be endorsed, it doesnt need to make anyone feel terrible. A few love handles here and there, a little tummy sometimes & some rounded thighs aren't evil. No amount of stuffing ourselves into leggings & tight tops will take away the curvaceous form of the Indian woman.

So don't give in to peer pressure. Don't read beauty and fashion magazines, they are only designed to make you feel bad about yourself.

And certainly don't think men won't fnd you hot (It's another case altogether if you like women, that solves so much!). If someone has told u, in a catty hurtful manner about how you look, understand, that it's not worth listening to.

Having said that, why am I writing this today? Well, because I have suffered and suffered a bout of low self esteem for more than a year now.

My new desk job moved me to a situation of lesser exercise and the pace didn't help. I put on oooodles of weight.

And god, I hate the way I look like right now! I hate my image in the mirror. I simply detest it.

I have tried to conceal it in sheaths of black, tried crash dieting & everything, the whole rote a young woman goes through when she stares into the mirror, only to imagine Luciano Pavarotti (may his soul rest in peace) back at her.

I have finally almost reconciled to the fact that looking hot and attractive to men might just not be workable anymore. But I certainly need to feel good about myself. My idea of beauty is a glowing, healthy, happy me.

I am going to work towards it. And Attenborough's gandhi helps. Look at the father of the nation. He had no fashion sense, wasn't bothered about society's judgements about how he looked, killed the british softly with his song, invented one of the coooolest fabrics in Khadi (I swear by it) & then died a hero's tragic death.

While I know you must be gasping at the frivolity of my statement, understand. I am trying to break away from the norm.
I am trying to achieve the near impossible by hoping a man will like me for who I am. And that, I won't love my looks by anyone's standards but mine. Gandhi took that approach for everything in life. And he won.

So for now, no more shoppers stop!

I am sure, some women will connect. And some men will recommend this blog to their ladies. If nothing else, then for the sake of the last line:)

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