What’s wrong with saree?

“You must be the only woman in the UAE who’s wearing a saree.”

It’s been days since someone told this to me in my face, but these words continue to haunt me. Why? First, it was certainly not a compliment when I was made to endure those harsh words stated in a derogatory way from no less than a fellow Indian woman, clad in a trouser and sleek top. Second, it was obvious that it was blurted out in a tone that implied how on earth could you still be living with such an archaic sense of fashion? Yes, I was angry and hurt; who gives anyone the right to comment on my sense of fashion, questioning the prime importance of making me feel comfortable and be myself? I am comfortable in a saree and I don’t think I owe anyone an explanation. Why do these world’s mortals judge people based on their clothes?

So does draping a saree make me oldfashioned? Do I really need to explain to people that even though I put on a saree, I am an extrovert, quiet and progressive in my thoughts, and I do listen and groove to Western music, beats and yes I do play drums and have just got hang on polka and waltz beat. I love technology and live in the future and, perhaps, can shed some wisdom to this soul and make her feel obsolete.

But that ain’t me — I do not judge people by the way they dress or the qualifications they have. Period.

Does what one wears necessarily show the person beneath those layers of cloth? No, it does not. We all try to confirm to society and its rules self-drafted by some insecure people. So why is it that what you wear is a fashion statement for some, and a subject of ridicule for others?

Even in 2019, I use coconut oil on my scalp, tuck my hair back and sport a saree with a gold chain and nice set of pearl earrings, which are complemented with two gold bangles. For good measure, I’d love to even have jasmine flowers (gajra or gazra) on my hair bun at times. No, I am not playing a character from Ekta Kapoor’s serial, but this is my sense of fashion and I am proud of it. I will not squeeze in myself into something that makes me uncomfortable. So if people are going to socialise with you based on your get-up, trust me: you’re better off not knowing them.

I thank this soul who made me unleash my stand right now and vent out my opinion on the subject of draping a saree — even more so, making me realise that I am, according to this person’s words, the only one in the UAE. Time for a reality check, pal: around 3.3 mil- lion Indians reside in the UAE, so I’m quite sure I’m not the only one sporting such an elegant garment. Try looking around — and don’t have selective vision.

Many women in Dubai prefer a saree on festivals and even as casual wear — even at work, unless the workplace has a clear policy against it. And let’s not even get into ‘cheap’ talk: there are really classy, expensive sarees out there.

I certainly get heads to turn when I’m in a saree at home, in the office or any public place. At times, people even stop and ask me what is special, showering me with compliments — irrespective of nationality. I don’t wish to ‘Indianise’ the saree since I have seen women across the globe draping it. I am proud to be an Indian and shall sport a saree until my last breath: that is my identity and India is where my roots belong.

My love affair with sarees started when I was in second grade. Many times, my mum would come from outside and change her saree, which I would then pick up and learn how to drape it on myself. The fascination turned into a passion, having grown over the years and over the period materials varied — from silk to cotton and other time-honoured stuff, name it. I sincerely regret not being able to drape a nine-yard saree — the nawari — which requires a lot of skill not just to put it on but to wear it.

I can imagine my mother going to the maternity ward in a saree to deliver me. I was conceived, delivered and raised while she was in one, so how can I possibly not be in love with a saree? Many times I have witnessed men looking at a saree-clad woman with respect. I do not look down on people who wear modern dresses, but abandoning the saree and squeezing myself in jeans does not necessarily make me modern and vice-versa.

When I moved to Dubai I was actually told by another insecure soul — as if she had a sign written all over the face — ‘NOT TO WEAR SAREE IN DUBAI’. I was made to leave every single saree I had in my collection back home, only to be taken to a plush shop in Dubai to buy a dress with a plunging neckline. I confess I was not comfortable and wondered, is this really the fashion in Dubai? I had enough and one day I just decided to be who I really am and restarted wearing sarees — 15 years of doing so in Dubai and loving every single moment of it.

Once a upon time, a reputed journalist actually asked me in a newsroom to stop draping the saree because she was tempted to do the same but never mustered the courage to do so. Yes, it does require courage to drape a saree and be yourself.

Oh, were you wondering how I dealt with that soul who dissed me? My response was very stern: “Is there a problem with that?”

There was an eerie silence and she walked away — in her ‘modern’ outfit.

Many times I have witnessed men looking at a saree-clad woman with respect. I do not look down on people who wear modern dresses, but abandoning the saree and squeezing myself in jeans does not necessarily make me modern and vice-versa