Sindoor, mangalsutra or feminism?

Then there was the matter of the wedding rituals I had agreed to and ones that were a complete no-no for me. My father, a rebel himself, had already struck off kanyadaan (the ritual of giving away the bride) from the list. In fact, he even made a proud proclamation about the same on the wedding card. It did not take much to convince my parents to keep the ceremony less than one-hour long, but the two rituals that just could not be done away with were the applying of sindoor (vermillion) and the tying of the mangalsutra.

The fact that these are symbols of patriarchy passed down through generations of women and should be done away with is something that the feminist in me had told myself for the longest time. Yet, there I was, a day after the wedding, standing in front of the mirror in my in-laws’ house, wearing a bright saree and bangles, with a touch of vermillion on my forehead and the mangalsutra around my neck. Contrary to what my feminist instincts told me, I was shocked to see myself gloating at my reflection and thinking that I looked rather nice.

Over the next few days, I found myself wearing the sindoor and mangalsutra almost every day. Not that anyone asked me to do that. In fact, my mother-in-law and sister-in-law had very politely, or perhaps out of caution, told me that I need not feel pressured to wear the sindoor. But I had begun to quite enjoy the whole process of draping a saree, applying vermillion and gazing at myself in the mirror.

And yet, it was impossible for me to ignore the fact that these standards of beauty had been largely defined by what I had seen my mother, aunts and grandmothers do as I was growing up. Finally, I was one of them, basking in privileges exclusive to married women in our society.

As I returned to Delhi with my husband, and back to the world of journalists and academics that I inhabit, the choice of whether or not to wear these symbols of marriage tormented me. Was I not being a feminist by choosing to wear the sindoor? Or could the mere act of wearing the mangalsutra mean that I was giving in to patriarchal norms? Why could I not feel happy about wearing the sindoor and the mangalsutra, and still be true to my feminist beliefs? Or should I just wear them to prove a point to the feminists waiting to judge me?

As my head throbbed with these questions, I realised that Delhi winter was anyway not ideal for wearing a saree everyday. The sindoor automatically fell out of favour since I did not think it teamed up well with Western wear. The mangalsutra continues to hang around my neck, much to the surprise of my friends and colleagues. Perhaps the onset of warmer weather and the return of ethnic wear will make me want to apply the sindoor again. Who knows?

Meanwhile, my mother, during a recent video chat, was quick to point out: “Why have you not applied the sindoor?”

National Editor Shalini Langer curates the She Said Column