The one about the bindi

I have been asked a few times to write about bindis - can white women wear them? Should we? Or should we err on the side of caution and never wear anything from other cultures? Do the rules change if we are Hindu? Or if we're married to an Indian?

So many questions. The problem is that I'm not really qualified to answer them. I can only tell you that I sometimes wear them in certain situations, why I do, and why I don't in others.

I don't wear them on the regular just because I can and it's a free country.

I do wear a bindi when I go to the temple and when I go to certain Indian festivals and cultural events - Durga Puja? Yes! International Day street fair? No! University's India Night? Sometimes. It depends on the context.

I also wear them in India because in the area my husband is from, it is ubiquitous. The day after my wedding, my mother-in-law gave me a small packet of bindi cards; I did not wear them right away as our wedding was in the US but I made sure to wear the ones she gave me daily when we went to his home. It is one small thing that can help to put his family at ease, a marker that I accept and embrace his culture (he makes no secret of the fact he accepts and embraces mine). 

So why don't I generally wear them in the US? Aren't they fashionable? Aren't I connected to the Indian community here? Aren't I married to an Indian? To tell the truth, it is exactly for these reasons that I don't.

Apparently the bindi has been "on trend" for about a year now. I am not terribly on the up-and-up regarding such things; my utilitarian approach to fashion is limited to finding things that look good on me, aren't dated, but will last me twenty years; and to check and see if skinny jeans are over yet. But generally I have seen that when something becomes "trendy," a lot of license is taken with it. Fashion is both art and business; a couple years ago when biker chic was all the rage, you could find rivets on everything from handbags to shoes, none of which need rivets in the first place. It started as something artsy and novel, and then suddenly it was everywhere because it sold. The same has happened with bindis. The predominantly white fashion industry took a very visible marker of Indian tradition and culture and removed it entirely from its cultural contexts. Perhaps because it isn't as jarring to the average white person as, say, a leather mini and pasties accessorized by a white tulle Catholic wedding veil, bindis became accessories to cutoffs and see-through shirts, not just on the ramp but on the streets of Brooklyn and Seattle. And somewhere, gestalt in the world of fashion design died a slow and painful death.

As someone with a self-described utilitarian sense of fashion, I could not get behind the bindi trend for the simple reason that it makes absolutely no sense. But then there is a question of the morality of the trend. I find it odd that someone who would likely never wear fur because it hurts animals would wear a bindi in such a way that it hurts an Indian woman. (It can and does; I can link you to narrative after narrative after narrative.) Is this the cost of my self-expression? I think this is one trend that I can't afford to partake in.

Just one example of this: Have you seen some of the pictures in the bindi tag on Tumblr? Vacant-eyed, nubile girls wearing little more than a bindi with #exotic and #indian tagged...the orientalist stereotype of the oversexed, dark, exotic other is pretty played out in 2013 but these girls are jumping right on the "exotic=sexually available" bandwagon without even realizing it. I certainly do not want to reinforce a stereotype of a "bindi-wearer" as an object of lust, especially when I know and love many women who wear bindis as an expression of their culture or their faith. I am not interested in making their lives any more difficult.

So yes - the (white-dominated) fashion industry has taken the bindi, stripped it of context, and reduced it to a sign of exotic Otherness. And the ambassadors of this trend? Gwen Stefani, who has silent Japanese girls follow her wherever she goes? Selena Gomez, who doesn't even know the bindi is Indian in origin? Not exactly my role models. 

I said earlier that there's another reason I don't wear a bindi in daily life, and that is because I'm married to an Indian and have many Indian friends. This isn't counterintuitive. My Indian friends, with the exception of a religious few who wear kumkum, not sticker bindis, generally do not wear bindis themselves, except to temple or cultural events. What reason do I have to do any different? There's another reason too; I do not wish to invite unfavorable comparisons between me and my friends - "Andrea is more Indian than you! You have become so westernized." "It is nice to see a foreigner embracing our culture that others choose to reject." I have heard these things said in my presence. Awkward. Not every Indian woman wants to wear a sari, bindi, sindoor, glass bangles, toe rings. Many have fought their families, school principals, and surrounding culture to leave these things aside. Am I, by my choosing to embrace certain aspects of Indian culture, making it more difficult for the Indian women I know to make their own choices? I will be happy to remove my bindi in solidarity with them.

This is not to say that I think that white people should stay away from other cultures entirely. I do wear bindis in certain situations. I also choose to wear a wedding ring, loha, and sindoor, and choose not to eat beef, in the interest of carrying on family traditions and making my family members more comfortable. There are those who will not be okay with this; I deeply regret this but consider my commitment to my family to be paramount. I believe that there is a place for cultural sharing and syncretism, and that place is within community. Intercultural families, religious communities, close circles of trusted friends. And this sharing happens naturally, just as you would share information on what wine to serve with chicken or the best cloth diapers for your baby. It's other-centered, relationship-centered; not self-centered. The more involved I got with my local Indian community, the more I learned about various aspects of Indian culture from Indians and not from Wikipedia, the less inclined I was to just participate in the sparkly, pretty parts of the culture just to do it. Those parts come in context - for me, it is as the White American wife of a not very religious Indian Bengali, living in a small college town and all the good things and problems therein. 

A final criticism some will have is that this is a tempest in a teapot; this is an election year in India, the US government is shut down, and people have a lot more to worry about than what carefree white girls are wearing on their faces. I disagree; I think that first of all, white people have done a lot of taking and appropriation and we need to recognize that fact. We are products of our history and as such, even this issue of something as small as a dot requires a need for understanding on the part of us white girls, doing things that may not come naturally -- listening to the narratives of those whose culture we have embraced in part, learning about the context of that culture through a living community and true relationships, and accepting that even as we are individuals who make our own choices in life, those choices do affect others and we need to be aware of the consequences and our impact. In this light, we may not always get to wear whatever we want. And we may not always be able to please everybody. But pleasing people was never the goal; it's not about us. It's about how our actions show respect to others who generously share their culture with us, and how we can do our part to bring about more justice in this world. 

(Note: much of this was inspired by, and indeed written first in, a series of comments I made on Reddit in October 2013.)

The fate of the Delhi rapists, and an exercise in situation ethics

The past two days have been filled with thinking, and talking, and chatting, and Facebook commenting, about the death sentence given to the rapists of Jyoti Singh Pandey.

One has already died in custody. Amidst suspicious circumstances. The other, a juvenile at the time of the crime, will spend three years in prison and his slate will be wiped clean.

People have celebrated the verdict of death by passing out sweets. Activists against the death penalty, and indeed, the rapists' parents, have accused the court of bending to public opinion. And the question everyone asks -- and some feel fit to answer -- is, Was justice done?

The girl's parents wanted the death penalty. If we want to speak of justice, really only their opinion matters. My opinion, then, is just that - my feelings on the matter. And I am unsettled.

My first, most visceral response, was that death was too good for them. Their days are numbered and if they show any remorse at all, a swift death is certainly merciful. There are those who would inflict unmentionable punishment on the men, commensurate to what they did to the girl, but I think an eye for an eye only keeps the cycle of violence going and teaches that in some circumstances, violent acts are okay. And we have seen the lengths people will go to in order to justify rape and murder, these most heinous of crimes for which death is the recommended punishment: She was out at night. She has brought dishonor to the family. He committed a crime and was in jail. He was campaigning against morality and decency. She was asking for it. Who decides what crimes warrant cruel and unusual punishment? You'd better hope you never end up on the wrong side of that decision maker's politics, and political connections change so quickly.

Ideally, I would have liked to see them condemned not to death, but to a lifetime doing hard labor in a maximum security prison where they can no longer be menaces to society. Human rights? Certainly, give them the rights that they so callously took away -- we are not barbarians -- but the privileges of life in this free world they would never see again. Food, water, clothing, shelter, medical care are requirements, but biryani and badminton are privileges. Without leisure, without contact with their loved ones, they would have all the time in the world to think about what they had done until finally God himself granted them mercy and took them from this world. In playing God ourselves, we are being merciful to those who we say do not deserve mercy.

But the mother of the victim said, in an interview I heard earlier but can't find a link to, that the victims showed no remorse, that in court they seemed befikr - unworried. How is it punishment if there was no remorse to begin with? Zero times infinity is still zero. The main problem with my ideal punishment is that it is an ideal and shatters in the face of reality.

The two main arguments that I have heard against life in prison have been that rehabilitation does not work, so why bother, and that the cost borne by the taxpayers would be too great. To the first argument, I agree; although in the US the recidivism rate of sex offenders has been shown to be just 14 percent, this number is low because of controls in the system, including monitoring and registration. In India, where it is difficult to even get a rape case registered at the police station, these controls do not exist and the data does not apply. I do not argue then for rehabilitation at all, but for life sentences with public safety in mind: removing violent criminals from society.

Then people will ask, why should we pay taxes to keep these people alive? That is a difficult question to answer, and the answer will depend on how an individual, and how a culture, values life itself. There are some who believe in the absolute sanctity of life -- that we may not interfere in the natural processes of giving or taking life. Others believe that all humans are allotted a set of inviolable rights without which society will collapse. Yet others believe that human rights should only be extended to those who respect human rights, and that your right to live ends when you take someone else's life. And then there are those who take a utilitarian view: if someone is an unwanted burden on society, they should be done away with sans emotion. My view is closest to the second of these, but I do understand that others hold different opinions and, as such, come to different conclusions.

Which is why, in conclusion, I believe that there was no right thing to do in this case. No action the court took can bring Jyoti Singh Pandey back, can fill the hole in her family's life, can enroll her in classes for this term and get her back on her way to becoming a medical professional. Perhaps the verdict that was delivered was the least wrong thing. But I will leave that for her family to make the final call on.

Words worth sharing today

"Sectarianism, bigotry, and its horrible descendant, fanaticism, have long possessed this beautiful earth. They have filled the earth with violence, drenched it often and often with human blood, destroyed civilization and sent whole nations to despair. Had it not been for these horrible demons, human society would be far more advanced than it is now. But their time is come; and I fervently hope that the bell that tolled this morning in honor of this convention may be the death-knell of all fanaticism, of all persecutions with the sword or with the pen, and of all uncharitable feelings between persons wending their way to the same goal."

- Swami Vivekananda, Welcome address to the World Parliament of Religions, Chicago, September 11, 1893. 

120 years later, we are still fervently hoping.