AND THE WINNER IS…
Did you know there was a Mr & Miss Wheelchair India, a Miss and Mrs Curvy Queen, a Mrs India Home Makers? A peek inside the beauty pageants you didn’t know existed
Raj Chaudhari’s foray into pageantry could not have been more chaotic. He set up the Mr & Ms Maharashtra Fashion Pageant to flex his muscle in the talent scouting business.
What he got instead was a half-empty hall, a truncated show, hecklers, and two angry contestants — one of whom would not accept her runner-up trophy. All over a grand prize of Rs 51,000 in cash, hair products and “a chance to audition for Hindi, Marathi and Bhojpuri movies”.
Organised in a suburban Mumbai theatre space, the Maharashtra pageant was five months in the making. Auditions were held in Mumbai, Pune, Nagpur, Solapur, and Kolhapur. Of 125 hopefuls aged 15 to 35, 21 girls and 15 boys made it to the finale held on September 2.
So when the delay led to the Q&A round being scrapped, some were visibly miffed. Mumbai‘s Komal Chandel refused her second runner-up prize, to the delight of her crowd of supporters, who called out “Yeh
sab fraud hai!” and “This is not a show!” Contestant Durgesh Chauhan had been expecting to win too, and when he was given a ‘Mr Talent’ sash instead, he took it off and marched off stage.
“Sour grapes,” shrugs Chaudhari, who heads a casting and distribution company for Marathi and Bhojpuri films. But that’s how seriously contestants take the small, hyperlocal pageants held across India.
These pageants are a world of their own, very different from the Miss India, Mrs India and Gladrags pageants we know.
Some serve a cultural purpose, like the Miss Himalaya and Miss Tibet contests. In January, the first ever Miss Tiara was organised, for “short girls, because every other pageant has tall girls”.
There is also a Mrs Homemaker, to help women reclaim their identity after marriage; a Miss Plus Size North India, for women with a waist size of 34 or more; a Miss and Mrs Curvy Queen, in which “small and medium-sized women are not eligible”.
MR AND MISS MODESTY
Problems can range from scheduling issues to culture shock.
“I got 10 girls — versus 20 boys — to participate, and that too only after assuring everyone there’d be no Western wear, leave alone swimsuits,” says Sandeep Kumar, president of Rubaru Group.
He’s talking about his first-ever pageant, Mr & Miss Bahadurgarh (2008), staged for his hometown in Haryana.
Rubaru now organises an annual Mr India, a Miss India Elite and the upcoming Face of Beauty International pageant (September 13 – 24).
“North India has a craze for beauty contests,” Kumar says. Things are changing. There are now swimwear rounds, for Rubaru Mr India since 2012; for women, since last year.
“I’ll never forget how shy the boys were just being shirtless,” Kumar says.
IDENTITY PARADE
Some criticisms about pageants reinforcing objectification are upturned when physical pomp and splendour double as platforms for marginalised identities. Airhostess Tenzin Paldon, for instance, is Miss Tibet 2017. The resident of Kollegal, Karnataka, has never seen her homeland but says she’s determined to represent it. “I want younger generations to be inspired and unafraid, and for more Tibetan women to participate,” says the 21-year-old. “Even if there’s a problem competing internationally, this title has already got me modelling offers.” Owning a Miss Tibet sash is especially poignant at a time when pageants such as Miss Tourism and Miss Earth insist on sashes that say ‘Miss Tibet-China’. Lobsang Wangyal, the man behind Miss Tibet, says it’s hard to get sponsors too. “The bids I have so far aren’t great, but I’m busy with (my other pageant) Miss Himalaya and am hopeful something will come along,” says the McLeodganj-based photojournalist and events manager. Miss Tibet had a record nine participants this year. If you think that’s laughable, take note: McLeodganj’s Tibetan community has been divided about the contest since its inception in 2002. As per Buddhist beliefs, pageants – more so those with swimsuit rounds – place undue emphasis on physical beauty. “As a result, on four occasions, Miss Tibet had only one participant,” Wangyal says. “So what? I have one crown, and all I need is one head. You do good when you empower even one Tibetan woman.”
BEAUTY QUEENS
Pageants are a celebration of identity for the trans community too. In 2016, Bishesh Huirem from Manipur became the first Indian to take part in Miss International Queen. Next year, Loiloi Haorongbam – also Manipuri – hopes to be crowned Miss Transsexual Australia.
The PhD student was also first runner-up at Trans Queen Contest North East 2014 and Miss Manipur Queen for Transgender 2016. In both, she was up against 29 other trans women. “Manipur is more accepting. You have fashion shows for trans people. And pageants. Such events help you become more confident on the international stage,” she says.
END OF THE RAMP
While Haorongbam and Paldon have international pageants to move on to, a large number of India’s beauty content winners have no next step.
“The drive to be crowned or bag a title has led to so much pageant saturation and opportunities for moneymaking, one can never be too careful,” says Shainee Soni, who styles and mentors contestants for Mr & Miss North India and Mr & Miss DelhiNCR. Organisers put the contest together for the sake of participation fees (which can be as much as Rs 10,000 or even more) and sponsorship money.
“Juries are full of wannabe-celebs. Where do the winners go? No one knows,” Soni adds.
What about the curious case of all too few pageants for boys and men?
Rushikesh Mirajkar, national director of Miss Tiara (the ‘Miss’ equivalent of Mrs Tiara), contends that sponsors have much to do with this chasm. The 28-year-old registered the ‘Mr Suave India’ title in 2014 but is yet to find backing.
“It’s crazy. There are 284 pageants for men worldwide and we aren’t sending men to even a quarter of them,” he sighs. “Now there are whispers of a Miss Lesbian India pageant taking shape. For the sake of variety and equal opportunities, I hope it’s true.”