On the evening of Thursday, the 19th of May, we had tickets to the National Theatre to watch a play called “The Father and the Assassin”. I had made the decision to wear a sari for that evening. On the day, I went through my collection of saris in the wardrobe pondering on which sari to wear. I eventually select a black and white block print sari in tussar silk (also known as Kosa silk in Sanskrit) with a wide red velvet border.
The Kosa Silk is obtained from an Indian silkworm, and it is known for its unique texture – I thought it to be visually fitting for that evening. The pleats on a Kosa silk sari behave satisfactorily once they are organised and tucked into the petticoat leaving enough fabric for the ‘pallu’, which is the loose end of the sari that rests over the left shoulder.
The Pallu cascades gracefully down my arm, as I walk. We get the taxi to the tube station, and whilst walking briskly, I carefully lift my pleats up and down the escalators and stairs, to eradicate any accidents. On our arrival we head towards the bar to pick up some cold beverages.
Suddenly, I encounter another Asian woman in a sari. I felt her eyes were scanning me up and down, but I just wanted her to say hello and I would have responded politely. Unfortunately, she seemed unapproachable, and this made me reflect on unconscious biases lingering in the air between us both.
I proceeded outside with my friends, sipping our thirst-quenching refreshments leisurely and my sari was moving with the lovely cool breeze in the air. It was time to take our seats in the auditorium that had a perfect view of the stage. The gripping fictional tale of the man who killed Gandhi was a phenomenal piece.
To our delight, we were invited to join a private party in celebrating the very first showing of this play. The atmosphere was filled with notable figures from the arts and theatre domain – I was consumed by the alluring people, the murmur of conversations and the clinking of the wine glasses.
I was surprised to receive a compliment by a choreographer and a few others on my sari. It became clear when talking to some other guests that I was not the only person to have felt uncomfortable about the other women in saris as they had a similar effect on them.
I have thus been toying with the question of: How do we dismantle the negative biases within our own cultures?