Western culture's fashion, representing the economic power of the West, has been making a serious dent in the conservative society and socio-economic condition of third world countries like India. A radical concept of poverty and age-old Oriental conviction towards "grace and culture" plays a confronting role to it, making it a battlefield between the haves and have-nots.
     The story itself is set in a park surrounding a lake. A young girl of a rich family, driven by fashion fever, dons a costly western wear effecting exhibitionism, certainly unfit to be worn in a public place in Indian society on account of its obscenity. The soul of the story comes when a poor destitute woman challenges the young girl's attitude towards modern exhibitionism.

THE STORY

     "How am I looking, dear?" asks the young woman with attractive face and plump body. She is a typical Indian beauty in a gorgeous western dress that has cuts at top and at bottom, showing her breast and unshapely but shaven legs. As her boyfriend speaks out a few set words of appreciation, "Yeah, you look fabulous today, Swapna," several youths walking by in the huge lake-cum-park at Dhakuria, Kolkata look back in reflex to view the deep cut front of her designer wear.
     She has a glowing complexion the color of sugarcane juice. Her curly locks are resting on her shoulders. The cleavage between her two voluptuous breasts is partially explicit. It is very difficult for the boyfriend to determine which actual item is most fabulous to him - the dress or the things under the dress.
     There is nothing unnatural then when they come across a street urchin who spontaneously sings a popular yet vulgar number from a Hindi spice film, "Choli ke pichhe kya hai?" (What is hidden behind the top or the blouse?) It is easy for everybody to understand why the song is being sung all on a sudden.
     It is a Sunday afternoon with less sun but with more and more shadow as dark clouds assemble in the whole of the sky in a scattered manner that promises little rain but mostly shadow in the day. A perfect ambiance for their outing. Beneath the darkening sky, the great rendezvous of couples for fresh air & sweet nothings has caused regular visitors such as the old and the retired folk as well as the walkers to hurry for their space in the park. The children though have no such difficulty, as the places from swings to the cricket coaching camps are earmarked as their own.
     As she is about to sit at the bench by the waterfront facing towards the pathway, her two swollen breasts are revealed to all the people around, who are tempted to look at them as if they were meat dressed and hung up on iron hooks in a butcher's shop.
     "Do you know, Saikat, it has been my dream to wear such an eyes catching designer wear of the boutique of Ravi Kumar, the celebrity Fashion Designer of Delhi. He takes up dress elements of the best models of India and abroad. I have been chasing on my Dad for this one. My sister could not close her eyes. She had to agree that I was looking ravishing. Am I really so?" Swapna's voice is changed to a nasal tune in expectation of receiving flattery.
     Saikat, the male partner directly flatters Swapna with true lies, "Darling, I can tell you that in this large lake of four and half miles, you are the best dressed and most beautiful lady of the day. You would make the TV and film stars to pass their sleepless nights, if you were to sail your beauty boat towards their domain." Swapna's enormous smile at hearing this reflects her resonant pride in her beauty and her dress sense that has easily hooked a guy like Saikat to her list of admirers. They come closer together now to speak a few sweet nothings to be heard by themselves only.
     The pedestrians, who are all there for love, fun and rest, prefer to be squint eyed rather than just looking straight towards the road that they are heading to. This is not that all of them are ignoring her, but their vocal expressions about the baring and daring woman are all in whispers. The smiles hanging by the sides of their lips suggest that the scene is a feast for their eyes. "What a special menu!" remarks a college student to his friend. "Really," one of them exclaims. A young mother in vain tries to keep her teenage son's eyes busy with the few rowing boats that are afloat, gliding through the glass-like water as the greenery surrounding the waterfront looks on.
     The assembly of old men, who have no definite route to take their chatting upon, have chosen for the subject today, "Grace of Indian women and present society." as the focal point of their discussion, after glancing time to time at Swapna, the center of attraction. Swapna, the ravishing beauty in a western costume has turned the old heads for a special menu since she has been encouraged by Saikat to take up battle on those TV stars and film stars earning fat packets.
     The vendors are multiplying in number - selling their wares such as ice cream, cigarettes, candy, snacks, sweets, tea and coffee. Saikat makes a point to note that almost every two minutes, he is facing a vendor. Sometimes, two or even three at a time. He finds them too obstinate and reluctant to leave the couple to their privacy. Swapna seems to be proud of the public attention she has already drawn, but Saikat understands the real message underneath his point blank flattery and the stubborn behavior of the vendors.
     Saikat, whatever smartness he shows by flashing buttered whiffs to please his sweetheart, is at heart feeling discomfort, spurred by the onslaught of so many penetrating and licking eyes of males. Being an Indian, he can not mentally put himself away from the conservative society or from the panel of old folk that has been chewing tobacco and words to shed tears on the issue of ideal and graceful women. "Not very long back, the women folk, believers of the principle 'Grace is the best clothing,' were seen with their heads covered by the end of the sari, as they did not mean to be women only to the society but to be mothers, daughters, sisters etc. It is indeed, the Western culture, and more particularly Fashion TV, that can be held responsible for such shamelessness and a social decadence. We are sure, they say, that such obscenity must surely have been punished during British Rule." While they talk, their eyes are half turned to the subjects - on topic and on her top.
     The sun, amidst rain clouds, gradually tilts to the west on schedule. In the light orange sky, the birds in thousands start flocking towards the trees of the lake, as dusk sets in. Their endless chirping in a chorus becomes the main feature for the while. The bootleggers put their last minute preparation to operate after it is dark.

     Along with hundreds of others, a poor woman, young, oval faced with large sad eyes, comes strolling around the lake. She has a fair complexion burnt by sun and starvation. She is wearing a sari that is worn out, soiled and with holes. Her face and locks of hair say that the four elements - food, sleep, oil and water - have been alien to her for a long while.
     Such a destitute woman is generally branded as "paagli" (mad woman.) This woman moves on from bench to bench, puts her right palm open as she begs without a word, sad and concerned. When there is no response, after a lapse of certain time, she moves on to another bench to stand by and beg. Her open palm is yet to receive any coin.
     The sad face reaches near the bench where Saikat and Swapna are sitting. She has been looking at them while standing by the other benches. Now, she stands before the couple, looking into the eyes of Saikat - straight and cold.
     "Can you give me a day's meal if I show you all by enlarging the holes of my blouse, which this bitch is showing you only partially?" She has removed her cloth over her breasts to show her blouse torn with holes. "Answer me, please! A day's meal only."
     The boyfriend of Swapna is flabbergasted. Swapna herself is astonished. The surrounding is amused. The poor woman is ruthless.
     "Come, Saikat, let's move right now. Let's not spend a single moment here. The lake has become a brothel! My god! I can't imagine," shouts Swapna.
     Saikat, shocked and speechless, follows her footsteps. The crowd is of a variety of views: "Chhee, Chee! Shame, absolute shame." "How is such a mad woman and prostitute allowed in a good locality?" "Prostitution in broad daylight? What are the police doing?" "Shame! Shame! Before children's eyes too, such things happening." "From tomorrow, I should stop coming to this lake. I'll ask others not to come too."      However, from the next day on, the lake is full of crowds the way it has always been, with its fleet of rowing boats, chirping birds, and vendors selling tea and coffee and candy.

Partha Pratim Majumder

You may e-mail the author at pratim_in@yahoo.com