Famed author Somerset Maugham once said, “Tradition should be a guide, not a jailer,” but to us brown girls, it often feels like the latter.
Living life as a modern woman in the 21st century, indulging in its excitements, while trying to uphold traditions and values instilled in us since childhood, isn’t always an easy task. It is the perennial dilemma that presents itself to every brown girl.
The expectations from our parents are high; good grades, good job, conservatism, chastity, and ultimately, finding a suitable groom. These expectations are set even before we are born, often made to believe that if we go against these norms, we are doomed.
Part of the problem is that tradition is often confused with morality. Perhaps, because, in most South Asian families, tradition and morality are often used synonymously. Actions like drinking, smoking, clubbing and dating tend to earn girls a stigma of promiscuity, recklessness, and even un-intelligence.
Deepika Padukone and Diana Penty in “Cocktail” as Veronica and the more conservative Meera.
This is a vantage point is so common that it is often promoted in mainstream Bollywood. A prime example being Homi Adajania’s movie “Cocktail.” The likes of Adajania and writer Imtiaz Ali have given us progressive female characters, yet one cannot deny the distinction “Cocktail’s” male protagonist (Saif Ali-Khan) makes between the two female leads (Deepika Padukone and Diana Penty). It is not different from the way women in South Asian cultures are routinely perceived.
Meera, played by Penty, dresses conservatively, does not drink, does not curse, does not have male friends and prays regularly. She is shown as morally superior to Veronica, played by Padukone, who does all the above, except for praying. Want to take a guess as to who Khan’s character chooses at the end of the movie?
It makes one think, why is a woman who dresses conservatively, as per tradition, perceived more moral than one who marches to her own drum? I am not advocating a life of drinking, clubbing, and reckless affairs, nor am I belittling traditions, but it is concerning that our perception of a good person is based on exterior traits and not real values. The fact is, a woman who does not consume alcohol does not make her superior to one who does.
The age-old argument that claims tradition should be obeyed just because it has stood the test of time does not make it necessarily correct. I understand tradition plays a strong role in defining who we are as a culture. It is the foundation through which we develop our own values. At times, tradition helps us put things into perspective when our reasoning fails. The problem is not the application of tradition, but mindlessly following it.
As modern women, on a day to day basis, we aren’t fighting society’s patriarchal perceptions. Our battles are, more often than not, against the people we love and respect.
In some instances, it is just easier to bite the bullet and accept certain demands to appease our loved ones? Should you have to give up love because a particular person does not fit their requirements? Should you put your career on the back burner when your parents think it’s time for you to get married?
I don’t say we should take it upon ourselves to be crusaders to banish and destroy all that is old and traditional. We should, however, take it upon ourselves to apply logic and mindfulness to our actions. To understand that tradition and morality are two different things, and not feel guilty when we do abandon tradition for something we truly believe in.
The greatest problem with tradition is not letting it make you feel guilty or take away your ability from seeing reason. I am a true believer we are all born with a consciousness and should make use of this inner moral compass. When something doesn’t feel right, we should not have to do it – no matter how strongly it is suggested we do.
Conversely, if in your gut you feel something is right, truly right – then you should go for it. But be prepared to defend that decision with reason and a calm temperament.
Who knows, you might be surprised to realize that with a reasonable explanation, your parents might not be as immovable as you think. After all, they broke tradition and moved to a foreign world.
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Tatjana Kulkarni is a New York-based business journalist for The Deal. At The Deal, she covers mergers and acquisitions and is also equally (if not more) interested in fashion and art. She is a total Bollywood buff and loves reading both fiction and nonfiction. She particularly enjoys classic literature; Daphne Du Maurier and Somerset Maugham are her absolute favorites.
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.
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
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.
February 1, 2023March 7, 2023 3min readBy Varsha Panikar
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.
This film is a worldwide collaboration among trans and queer south-Asian artists from the United States, India and Canada. It was recorded, shot and filmed during the lockdown of 2020 and 2021.
Jae:
Awake at 10 am but out of bed at noon,
I want to be here where I lose myself in these sheets
Glancing through half-shut eyes
At the gold pressing past my window
The glimmer remarks on the ledge of my bed
But the voices are so loud
Like dust collecting in the corner of my room
I am unaware to why I’m still here
With the chilling doubt of the breeze…
I’m swept into lucidity After so long
Dad:
Mil rahi hoon mein aaj iske saang barso baad,
(Today, I’ll be meeting them after so long)
Koi paata nahi diya tune
(But with no destination sight,)
Kya karu?
(What should I do?)
Kaha jau?
(Where should I go?)
Shayad agar mein chalne lagoon,
(Perhaps, if I keep walking)
Inn yaadon ki safar mein
(Down this road of memories)
Mujhe samajh mein ayega,
(I will find out)
Yeh rasta kahaan jayega,
(Where this road leads)
Inn aari tedhi pakadandiyon pe baarte hi jaana hai,
(Through the twists and turns of this winding roads, I must keep going on)
Mujhe mil na hain aaj uske saath,
(I wish to meet them today)
Barso baad.
(After so long)
Simha:
I feel like I’m retracing my footsteps
From these concrete stretches
To broken cement walls
Chips and cracks forge their way for new designs
I see the old abandoned buildings
That once held the warmth of bodies
Now just hold memories
Supporting the nature’s resilience
In vines and moss
After so long
Mom:
Dhoondli shishe mein jaaga leli hai
(These isty mirrors have offered refuge)
Bikhri hui laatao ne,
(To these scattered vines)
Zameen pe uchi ghaas pe
(Amidst the tall grass stretching from the ground)
Lehrati kamsan kaliyaa
(The swaying little buds)
Bheeni bheeni khushboo bikhereti
(Spreading honeysuckle scent through the air)
Phir wahi mausam,
(I lose myself in reminiscing, the same season)
Wahi dil,
(The same heart)
Baarso baad.
(After so long)
Phir bhi mein chal rahi hoon aaj
(Still, I keep carrying on today)
Khudko khudse milane ke liye
(In the pursuit of my higher self)
Inn galiyo se guzarna hain aaj
(I must pass through these streets today)
Chaalte chaale jaana hai aaj
(I must keep going on today)
Kabhi hum milenge kisi mor paar
(Someday, we’ll meet again, somewhere on this road)
barso baad
(After so long)
Kabhi hum milenge kisi mor pe
(Someday, we’ll meet again, somewhere on this road)
barso baad
(After so long)
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.
NAKED: The Honest Musings of 2 Brown Women was born in the autumn of 2018, when Mimi Mutesa and Selvi M. Bunce began sharing their poetry collections. It was scary, beautiful, and terrifying when they decided to trust each other with their most intimate thoughts. Not only did they feel relieved after doing so, but Selvi and Mimi also felt more seen as women of color. They embarked on their publication journey, so others may feel as seen as they did on that fateful autumn.
“Ingrown Hair” deals with the themes of societal and family pressures that are reflected throughout NAKED. Mimi and Selvi have always written for themselves. They see poetry as an outlet, and their poems exemplify their personal frustration and vulnerability. “Ingrown Hair” speaks to Selvi’s experience with the societal pressures of South Asian women, such as getting married, being a good wife, becoming a good mother, and leading a certain kind of life.
There is something strange beneath my skin
telling me to build a house,
make a home,
mother children.
I am not sure how to reconcile it.
My mother was strong
and a mother after all.
My philosophy has been to spend my time
on myself and the world.
I have always thought
I could simply address the thing under my skin
when it finally crawled out.
But when my family starts guessing
who will get married first, and my father
has been saving wedding money for years,
I begin to wonder
if I will have to pluck it out.
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.