What a woman should do seems to be everybody’s business but her own. Well, there isn’t anything new in this. Over time, the rigid patriarchal hierarchy in Indian society has relaxed into a more inclusive structure, no doubt. But this has not changed the fact that a woman is still not free to do her own bidding. The patriarch-guardian is still watching her every move, ready to correct her whenever she happens to transgress the limits set for the traditional Indian woman.

The Ram Sena staged a mini-riot in Mangalore a few months back over what they considered to be a violation of Indian culture. Women — wearing urban clothes like jeans and short skirts and drinking alcohol in pubs — had apparently provoked their anger. They openly accused these women of abusing the culture of this country (besides beating them up). What is, and what is not, a violation of Indian culture is a different debate altogether. To put it in a nutshell, if string-tops and jeans are vulgar, and therefore an insult to Indian culture, then what about the kanchuli (an ancestor of the bra) worn by the female figures of Khajuraho? Again, so-called ‘Indian costume’ is often an amalgam of a number of foreign elements — the sari is accompanied by the blouse, which is of European origin, and the salwar-kurta has a Middle-Eastern lineage. But the question is not what is appropriate as an Indian way of dressing. Why, at all, should an adult woman be expected to dress according to the whims of a section of society?

Pramod Muthalik, the chief of the Ram Sena, had demanded that women stick to a dress code compliant with Indian culture. What a relief that no one took him seriously. But then, are there really enough reasons to be relieved as yet?

What Muthalik suggested has deeper implications. It points to the social, and often religious, discontent with public behavior that marks the dilemma of urban India when dealing with globalization and its after-effects. What is worrying is that this discontent is directed towards women in particular. A woman is supposed to safeguard culture while a man is free to explore the world outside. Even in post-feminist India, this is how it should be, not just for Muthalik and his men but also for a sizeable section of society.

The Kanpur colleges have made this all the more evident. Reportedly, these colleges tried to impose a no-jeans dress code on its female students, saying this will protect them from eve-teasing. This justification has a number of implications. First, it implies that a woman’s right to safety is determined by the way she dresses. Second, it suggests that a woman wearing jeans is likely to provoke a man to physically abuse her, lending a kind of legitimacy to his actions. The preposterousness of these ideas apart, what is truly significant is the way jeans have been deemed inappropriate simply because of their Western origin. Otherwise, why would a sari be seen as less provocative than a pair of jeans?

A section of the society is desperate to banish Western clothes from the wardrobes of Indian women. Is it because it relates Western dress to the image of an independent woman? After all, women’s liberation migrated to India from the West, teaching shy Indian girls to speak more loudly than Indian culture would allow them to.