by Sonali Kudva

I watched Zoya Akhtar’s “Dil Dhadakne Do” this past weekend and thoroughly enjoyed it as a classic family drama with a twist. However, the movie made me think.

Over the past few years, there has been increasing debate about the role of women in India. The debate has included gender inequality, rape culture, abuse, employment inequality, and molestation. But what this film brought home to me is an overarching theme that permeates all women’s issues in the Indian cultural context: the culture of silence.

“Dil Dhadakne Do” is a family-centric film, a dysfunctional one at that (but which family isn’t?); being the story of the Punjabi Mehra family, consisting of Mr. Kamal Mehra (Anil Kapoor), Mrs. Neelam Mehra (Shefali Shah), and their children: Ayesha (Priyanka Chopra), who is married to Manav (Rahul Bose); and their son Kabir (Ranveer Singh). The entire family goes on a cruise with some of their “closest” friends to celebrate the Mehras’ wedding anniversary, and it is aboard this cruise ship, that the soft underbelly of marriage and relationships in the Indian cultural context is exposed.

But this review is about the women in the family, and what their stories reveal about the Indian mindset. If you don’t want any spoilers, you might want to stop reading here.

In a scene in the film, there is a gathering of the family with the two children, their parents, and Ayesha’s husband (Manav) and his mother. This gathering is prompted by Ayesha asking Manav for a divorce.

In Indian society, divorce is rarely about just the married couple. It often involves the two families, and sometimes extended families, or family friends. There are negotiations, and talks held between the families to discuss possible reconciliation, legal issues, and ramifications. These “family” discussions often don’t even include the married couple. In my extended friends’ network, I heard a similar story being discussed recently, where the couple in question was not present to decide about their own future. Reconciliation was finally ruled out after over a year of negotiations between the two families, and divorce was finally on the table. However the negotiation over “streedhan” and financial support continued.

Reconciling a broken relationship is hard. It’s impossible if both parties don’t want to be together anymore, and it’s ugly if only one does while the other is forced to put up with the relationship. In the film, Ayesha is told by her parents to go back to Manav despite her saying she doesn’t want to be with him anymore. She is told to have a child to save the marriage (because children bring a woman maturity and make her more amenable). There is a shock when she talks about birth control (such things aren’t spoken of in polite company) and there is collective outrage at the thought of an impending divorce (log kya kahenge?).

Placing all of this in the larger picture, it is possible to see that there is a culture of silence imposed upon women in relationships. This culture of silence is imposed by societal mores and a patriarchal tradition. Ayesha’s father declares in no uncertain terms that he will not accept Ayesha back into the family fold; she is disowned. A sad state of affairs in the film, but sadder still in reality where there are hundreds, if not thousands, of educated young women who are ostracized or disowned by their families for standing up against, talking about, or leaving bad or unsuitable relationships.

Indian society celebrates successful women, but would like to silence and ignore women who “fail” in relationships. Speaking out as someone who emerged with the scars of a bad and painful breakup, I know what I am talking about. In the wake of my breakup, my partner’s family told me (not very politely) to stay quiet about my story. No one in Indian society wants to hear or speak about these things. They mar the image of a family-oriented society. They destroy the image of India as a country with a low divorce rate.

This low divorce rate for all intents and purposes is a false indication of happily married couples. Sexual abuse, marital rape, and the fear of ostracism keeps many couples together. But for many, like Mrs. Mehra states in the movie, it is simply that they have no other place to go. They stay silent, accepting of their partners’ transgressions because they don’t know how else to support themselves, or have no familial support to cushion their fall from grace. They stay in loveless marriages for the sake of duty and tradition.

“Beti ghar ki izzat hai.”

And so, the beti stays, locked in a prison of familial making. But make no mistake, this is in no way an indication of weakness, but an indication of the Indian women’s resilience when they tolerate everything from mental abuse and infidelity, to physical abuse and torture, sometimes only for the sake of their children, and to stay close to them.

Indian law is not kind to Indian women. It is not sympathetic to their plight. And Indian courts are filled with the tales of Indian women who have maybe had the courage to speak up, and/or walk out of bad situations only to find themselves alone, destitute, depressed, or desperate. And while some women have had kudos for speaking up, and changing their situations, there are more who have been chastised and told to have children to save bad marriages.

“Dil Dhadakne Do” takes a light-hearted look at Indian families and their foibles. Enjoyable as it all is, somewhere I recognized the cold hard look at what is acceptable and not from an Indian woman’s point of view, and this made me squirm as it hit a bit too close to home, and to homes of friends and family alike.

Earlier this year, I talked about “India’s Daughter,” and the imposition of censorship on the film, and subsequently of the plight of Indian women. This is an extension of that same discussion. In a country where marriage is sacred, but marital rape is legal; where women are worshipped, but are told to shut up and bear it (whatever “it” is); and where educated qualified women commit suicide after being abused by their homosexual husbands; it may be time to speak up. It may be time to break the silence.

Sonali Kudva is a PhD candidate at the College of Communication and Information at Kent State University, Ohio, with research interests in Bollywood, Human-Information Interaction and Popular Culture. She inherited the travel bug from her parents and has traveled widely, and hopes to get the opportunity to travel to more interesting places someday. In another life she was a Pulitzer Center for Crisis Reporting Fellow, has worked as a full-time journalist-editor and freelancer at magazines, newspapers and online. Sonali calls India her home, even though she spends more time away from home than in it. She likes to collect academic degrees, and in her spare time, she likes to vegetate with an interesting novel, talk to her family or argue with her friends on politics, international affairs and any other topic that may come up.

By Brown Girl Magazine

Brown Girl Magazine was created by and for South Asian womxn who believe in the power of storytelling as a … Read more ›

Photo by kittirat roekburi via Shutterstock.com

Social media has stretched a number of news headlines:

“Social media rots kids’ brains.”

“Social media is polarizing.”

Yet those most affected by social media ideals are the teenage users. Apps like Instagram and TikTok perpetuate an image of perfection that is captured in pictures and 30-second videos. As a result, many young women chase this expectation endlessly. “Her” personifies this perfection in an unattainable figure the narrator has always wished to be. These ideals deteriorate mental health, create body dysmorphia, promote a lack of self-esteem, and much more. Even so, social media is plagued by filters and editing—much of what we hope to achieve isn’t even real. Therefore, young women, much like the narrator of “Her,” strive for a reality that doesn’t even exist.

[Read Related: The Emotional Roller Coaster of Getting Your Legs Waxed for the First Time]

Her

When she walked into my life
Her smile took up two pages of description
In a YA novel.
My arms could wrap around her waist twice
If she ever let anyone get that close
Her hair whipped winds with effortless beach waves
And a hint of natural coconut
Clothing brands were created around her
“One Size Fits All” one size to fit the girl who has it all
With comments swarning in hourglasses
But when sharp teeth nip at her collar,
She could bite back biting back
And simply smirked with juicy apple lips
Red hearts and sympathy masking condescension
“My body doesn’t take away from the beauty of yours”
“We are all equal, we are all beautiful”
Beauty
A sword she wields expertly
Snipping, changing,
Aphrodite in consistent perfection
Cutting remarks with sickly sweet syrup
And an innocent, lethal wink
When she walked into my life
She led my life.
My wardrobe winter trees
Barren, chopped in half
Unsuited for the holidays
Mirrors were refracted under in my gaze
Misaligned glass was the only explanation
For unsymmetrical features
And broken hands
Still I taped them fixed
Over and over
Poking, prodding
Hoping to mold stomach fat like wet clay
Defy gravity,
Move it upward
To chest
Instead of sagging beneath a belt on the last hole
In the spring
She would stir me awake at 2 AM
“You need to be me”
Lies spilled from her tongue but
Solidified, crystallized
Fabrication spelled dichotomy
And I drifted farther out to sea
When she walked out of my life,
I was drowning.
Reliance had me capsized
Others witnessed
Furrowed brows and glances away
Like spectators of a shark attack
They can watch but the damage is done
They clung to my mangled pieces
Gravestones spelled
“Stressed”
“Depressed”
But I was mourning too
Today I looked back at my mirror
But glass turned into prism
Broken pieces rainbow
Colors coating clothes
She didn’t pick
Aphrodite
Perception changing
She wasn’t perfect
Just lost at sea

[Read Related: Finding Freedom from Gender Roles Through Poetry]

The opinions expressed by the guest writer/blogger and those providing comments are theirs alone and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Brown Girl Magazine, Inc., or any employee thereof. Brown Girl Magazine is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by the guest writer/bloggers. This work is the opinion of the blogger. It is not the intention of Brown Girl Magazine to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual. If you’d like to submit a guest post, please follow the guidelines we’ve set forth here.

By Kashvi Ramani

Kashvi Ramani is a writer, actress, songwriter, and singer from Northern Virginia. She has been writing songs, poetry, scripts, and … Read more ›

“What you do is not who you are. Our capitalist society spends a lot of time trying to convince us that we are our work, but we don’t have to fall for it.” 

When I first met Joy Batra, she wasn’t an author. She was a multi-hyphenated individual who floored me with her charm and her aura. Joy not only had gone to business school and law school at one of the most prestigious universities in America, but she also valued her hobbies and her passions that were completely extraneous to her working persona. Her nontraditional career path was one that, at first glance, confused me. “I’m a dancer and freelancer,” she had said, and I batted my eyes as if she was talking in a foreign language. What’s a freelancer? Why and how did she come to identify herself as a dancer, when her degrees all point to business and law? 

[ Read Related: Indra Nooyi Talks ‘My Life in Full’ and her Journey to Becoming PepsiCo’s CEO ]

Joy Batra’s therapeutic and timely book “Freelance Mindset” provides relevant stories, guidelines, and motivation to take ownership of your career and financial well-being. Particularly, the book is centered around the pros and cons of life as a freelancer and practical advice for how to get started as one. At its core, the “Freelance Mindset” encourages diving deep into the relationship between career and identity, and how the balance of both relate back to your life view.

In the words of Batra:

“Freelancing is a way to scratch a creative itch that is completely unrelated to their day jobs…Freelancing harnesses that independent streak and turns it into a long- term advantage.” 

Batra’s older sister’s advice is written with forthright humbleness and glaring humility. Batra leads us through the fear of facing our existential fears about careers, productivity, and creativity. She leans into the psychological aspects of how we develop our careers, and reminds us to approach work not just with serious compassion but also with childhood play: 

“You are naturally curious and passionate. As a child, before you needed to think deeply about money, you probably played games, had imaginary friends, and competed in sports. Those instincts might get buried as we grow up, but they don’t disappear altogether.”

[ Read Related: Learning How To Freelance in a Cutthroat Industry ]

Batra also provides us with a diverse cast of inspirational freelancers who provide their honest perspectives across a wide range of domains from being a professional clown to actors to writers. Especially noticeable is the attention paid to South Asian women through notable interviews with Vyjayanthi Vadrevu, Saumya Dave, and more. On social media, it’s easy to find these women and immediately applaud their success, but behind the scenes, it takes a lot of grit, persistence, and determination to reach the successful level of freelancing that you see. Batra encourages a spiritual way of thinking that is marked by rational needs (ex. Maslow’s hierarchy): not to seek immediate gratification and corporate climbing, but rather to view life as a “jungle gym” as coined by Patricia Sellers. Taking risks is part of life, and just like entrepreneurship, freelancing is just as ambitious and off-the-beaten path, despite stigmatization.

“One of the strange paradoxes of the working world is that entrepreneurship is fetishized and freelancing is stigmatized.”

I recommend the “Freelance Mindset” to anyone who is starting out their career in these economically uncertain times, as well as seasoned workers who are looking for inspiration or a shift in their career life. Whether or not you are considering becoming a freelancer in a certain domain, this book is the practical wake-up call that workers and employees need in order to reorient their purpose and poise themselves for a mindset of success. I view this book as a “lifer,” one to read every few years to ground myself and think critically about the choices I make and where I devote my time. 

I leave you with this quote:

“We can adopt the new belief that no single job will meet all our financial, social, emotional, spiritual, and physical needs…We have one self, and we must figure out how to integrate it into the various situations we find ourselves in.“

You can purchase a copy of the Freelance Mindset here. Follow Joy Batra on Twitter and Instagram for more content!

By Anushree Sreedhar

Raised in Edison, NJ Anushree is an avid reader, imaginative creative writer, dramatic storyteller, obsessive shopper, experimental yogi, and a … Read more ›

Photo Courtesy of Varsha Panikar

“After so Long” is a poetry film created for Simha’s EP, which is streaming on Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon Music. The poem was collaboratively written by Simha, a U.S. native, and Jae, who is based in India, during the 2020 lockdown. “After so Long” was recited by Simha and their parents. In 2022, I directed and produced the film through my studio, Star Hopper. “After so Long” premiered on Nowness Asia in March 2022.

By Varsha Panikar

Varsha Panikar (they/he) is a filmmaker, writer and multi-disciplinary artist from India. They are the co-founder of Star Hopper, a … Read more ›