Looking different

The National Commission for Women has recently proposed several amendments to the Indecent Representation of Women (Prohibition) Act to make its application more wide-ranging and stringent. If the amendments are passed in parliament, the law will extend not just to advertisements but also to “fibre optic, electronic or other media”, including music videos.

Among other things, the NCW is said to be particularly perturbed by the way women are depicted in music videos, where skimpily-clad girls do suggestive bump-and-grind routines. The NCW has a point when it says that it wants to bring these videos under the purview of the Indecent Representation of Women Act. For the act makes it an offence for any publication, writing, painting, or any other medium to depict a woman or her body in an indecent or a derogatory manner and in such a way as would “deprave, corrupt or injure public morality or morals”.

While one must laud the NCW for trying to broaden the scope of the act — it has also recommended that the fine imposed on offenders be raised significantly — one cannot help but wonder if the indecent representation of women in media is confined to the extent of flesh that women are shown to expose. Is indecent representation only about their clothes or the lack thereof? Is it only when they are overtly portrayed as sex objects that women can be viewed as having been represented in an indecent and derogatory fashion?

In truth, the media have ways of depicting women that are perhaps far more ‘indecent’ and damaging than any semi-nudity can ever hope to achieve. They often show women who may be fully-clothed — draped demurely in a saree or dressed smartly in Western wear — but who conform to a stereotype that does more harm to the image of women than do raunchy music videos or titillating item numbers.

The stereotype is an old one — that of the woman as a servile, subservient being whose ultimate thrill in life is to be the enthusiastic wife, mother and homemaker. Needless to say, the advertising industry is the biggest offender here. There are any number of adverts where a woman is shown to make tea, get lyrical over soups, ecstatic over masalas, look after baby, wash clothes, do the dishes — in short, she is depicted as the super-servitor who glories in her magnificent servitude.

Advertisers also take recourse to pop icons to drive home their point. In a recent advertisement for a washing machine, filmstar Kajol is gleeful when she is able to remove a ketchup stain from husband Ajay Devgan’s shirt. But Devgan shakes ketchup onto his shirt again since he is off for a film shoot and needs a bit of gore down his front. He then goes out breezily, presumably leaving Kajol in a state of pleasurable anticipation about getting yet another crack at cleaning her dear husband’s shirt.

The message is loud and clear. No matter what a woman achieves, what career peaks she scales, ultimately, she must rejoice and find fulfilment in her role as the efficient homemaker. If Kajol, the successful filmstar, can be seen to fit the template so snugly, how dare you or I think differently? So go out and buy this detergent or that washing powder. You may attend power meetings or swing business deals, be a model or a movie star, looking after husband and family will always remain your ultimate salvation, your primary raison d’etre.

So say the ads. And legions of women, at work or at play, imbibe that message daily. This sort of representation of women in the media is obviously not vulgar or ‘indecent’ in the conventional sense. The indecency here is insidious, occult — and because of that, its effect is perhaps much more powerful and pervasive than the depiction of the skin thing. For it chips away at a woman’s idea of herself, of her potential. By repeatedly depicting her in a stereotypical fashion, by consistently keeping her confined within her normative role in society, these advertisements lower her in her own eyes, and most importantly, reinforce the expectations that are routinely made of her. Expectations of service and subservience to the male order. If that is not indecent, what is?

Strangely, although women in our country today are making huge strides in every sphere of life, by and large, the media seem to be oblivious to the change. Barring a few exceptions, they continue to blithely depict women either as sex objects — who must be lustrous-haired, fair-skinned, ever-youthful, and so on — or as those loving, giving, eternally smiling super-slaves. And naturally, both are shown to exist for the pleasure of men.

Television serials are yet another conduit through which these unhealthy stereotypes are perpetuated. You will not find a ribald moment here, nor an obscene flash of flesh. The women — sari-clad and bejewelled — are pictures of sobriety. (It is only the scheming career woman who dares to bare in serials.) Yet most of them are locked in an unseemly battle to claim and keep a man. Their lives revolve around marriage and childbirth. Now these may be important milestones in a woman’s life, but in the world of television serials, little else seems to be as significant in the experience of being a woman.

Some may say that to call this indecent is to stretch the point. And that a television soap which shows women fixated on marriage and childbirth cannot be equated with something as potentially ‘indecent’ as, say, a pneumatic Mallika Sherawat in full-on come-hither mode. However, the difference between the two is one of degree, not of kind. Both depict women as objects of male gratification. Both show their existence being defined by the kind of impact they are able to have on men. And both present them as little more than vessels, creatures who can rarely think beyond their biological and cultural identities.

The point is that if we are to come down heavily on the indecent exposure of women in diverse media, we must also not turn a blind eye to the media’s systematic and manifold efforts to distort and subvert the idea of womanhood. If the physical exploitation of women in the media is considered morally wrong, the whole social and cultural construct of womanhood being propagated by the media is no less so. And no less in need of being curbed.

If the government accepts the NCW’s recommendations and decides to amend the act, it would be a welcome step. But that is simply not enough. Indecent representation of women in our society must be fought on all fronts. It must extend not just to the way the media depicts women’s bodies but also to the way it depicts their attitudes.

So does the answer lie in broadening the ambit of the Indecent Representation of Women (Prohibition) Act even further? Not really. A law can only do so much. Besides, outlawing something as contentious and subjective as ‘indecency’ is easier said than done. The key here really is to raise awareness at all levels. Pressure must also be brought to bear on the Advertising Standards Council of India, which is a self-regulatory body, to contain communication that depicts women in a derogatory fashion. Ultimately, unless we, as a society, collectively turn away from such negative representations of women, it will always be an uphill task for women to continue on the path of progress and self-determination.