Obscured Women of India (Part II): 'Gangaa' serial review

On the 2nd March 2015, a new Indian television channel, &TV ("AndTV") launched a brand new serial named Gangaa. Gangaa is the name of the central female protagonist, a six year-old child widow. The series is about her integrity, self-respect, strong, positive, indomitable spirit and her determined struggle against the restrictions placed on her by some within her community in Benares for being a widow.

Ruhana Khanna as Gangaa, before marriage

Gangaa pursuing education, some time after being widowed

Gangaa showing her fearlessly outspoken and feisty nature as she rebukes
and challenges Bal Mahant (Samridh Bawa; first from the Left) and his supporters
for behaving disrespectfully towards her and other widows

To give a brief summary of the background details, Gangaa's kind-hearted, affectionate father (referred to by Gangaa as "Bappa") instills within her some wisdom, morals and values of self-respect, being hopeful, positive, determined, fearless and honest while he is still alive. Yet, he decides to have her marry at a tender age. The reason for this is not clearly shown, but one could interpret this is because of his good intentions of ensuring she is well cared for as a result of his concern for the poverty they live in (as is the case with some impoverished villagers), or social pressures created by extremely conservative and influential people in his community, or a result of a combination of both causes. Sadly, on her wedding day itself, her Bappa and child-husband are both killed in a stampede.

Gangaa in her bridal clothes (after her child marriage ceremony) and her father, "Bappa" (Raj Singh Verma), moments before his and her child-husband's deaths

Soon afterwards, Gangaa is saved from falling into a river by a man, Niranjan Chaturvedi. Soon after Gangaa spots and overhears her father-in-law knowingly lie to rescue officers by declaring her dead and after she finds she cannot bear to live with the highly restrictive rules and customs of an orthodox widows' shelter she is taken to, Niranjan decides to offer her his guardianship and takes her into his family home, whose other residents are his cook, "Maharaj Ji", his wife, Madhvi, his sons, Pulkit and Sagar and his elderly mother, Kanta (referred to by most of her family and friends as "Ammaji"). Ammaji is a widow like Gangaa, but strongly endorses orthodox restrictions on widows and is opposed to the idea of Gangaa staying in the family home. Despite this, she allows Gangaa to stay since she befriends her favourite grandson (and youngest son of Niranjan), Sagar.

Until I started watching Gangaa, I thought I never could stand to watch any mainstream contemporary Indian television serial! To tell the truth, I still generally have a strong dislike for Indian television serials of today. My general impression of the majority of them is that they have the same sort of poorly directed and, thus, overly melodramatic, plastic styles of acting, cardboard cut-outs of black and white characters, costumes, make-up and sets that are jarringly and unrealistically gaudy, loud music that irritatingly never seems to stop for a single appropriately placed breath of silence and storylines that are excruciatingly disconnected from reality and fail to engage audiences on a deep level or present any original ideas that are either entertaining or thought-provoking.

Despite all that, I became curious to know why my mother got hooked onto Gangaa, given that she is much more selective than I am about the films and television programmes she watches - so much so to the point of being what some would call a "culture snob"! I was very surprised to see her staying up late for an extra 2 or 3 hours for a few consecutive days in order to ensure she watched all the episodes she missed before the point she started from! When I asked her why she was staying up until 1-2am and told her to sleep, she explained that she finds the storyline engaging, touching, not far-fetched, well-directed, balanced in the view it presents and promoting good ideals of gender equality, along with other ideals of optimism, honesty and integrity.

After viewing all the episodes shown so far, I am convinced that Gangaa is a commendable Indian television drama. If Rajita Sharma (the story and screenplay writer), Waseem Sabir (the director) and the producers will continue the good overall standard of work they have created so far, Gangaa could be a valuable classic.

Before I explain why I strongly like this series, I would first like to point out what I see to be its weak points and flaws. I think it's only fair to warn readers of any elements they possibly would dislike so that I can't blame myself (or be blamed) for what some may find painful! The good news in my view is, with only one exception, these drawbacks are minor surface details. I would argue that the flaws do not outweigh the series' strong points.

Firstly, the only major flaw I see is the abrupt replacement of the actress Priya Wal, who appears later on in the series to play the role of Madhvi's cousin, Barkha, a bicultural young adult with some Western cultural behaviours and lifestyle choices. The new actress' first appearance as Barkha in episode 172, after Priya Wal's last appearance in episode 171, sorely juts out. I understand there may be a good reason for re-casting. Perhaps some unprecedented, extenuating circumstances resulted in this. Of course, extenuating circumstances or death of an actor in the middle of a film or television series is possible and has happened before. For example, the passing away of Richard Harris in 2002 resulted in Michael Gambon being re-cast to replace him in the role of Albus Dumbledore (in the Harry Potter film series). However, my objection is while Michael Gambon resembles Richard Harris while in the role of Dumbledore and replicates Harris' characterisation, the actress who has replaced Priya Wal in Gangaa bears no resemblance to her at all and delivers a noticeably different characterisation that is comparatively lacklustre.

While Priya Wal has light-coloured eyes, a snow-white complexion and sports below-the-shoulder-length, curly brown hair, the new actress has olive-brown skin, dark eyes, straight black hair and has a build and facial features that are completely different. Priya Wal delivers a memorably believable and likeable characterisation of Barkha as being charmingly boisterous, youthful, outgoing, bubbly and jovial. The new actress, on the other hand, characterises Barkha as somewhat stiff, less pleasant, less bubbly and more artificial as a result of overacting and being less convincing in her performance, as opposed to Priya Wal's natural acting. Priya Wal nicely conveys how more Westernised women of India, such as Barkha, can be caring and culturally sensitive towards less Westernised friends and relatives and also have good relations with them. For instance, there is a moving, beautifully natural and realistic moment created partly from Priya Wal's delivery. This is when Barkha allays Madhvi's unwarranted suspicion that she is having an affair with Niranjan through a subtle gesture (perhaps knowingly or unknowingly). The new actress does not show the same natural warmth and ease as Priya Wal when engaging with Madhvi and other characters in the Chaturvedi family and Gangaa. I would argue this somewhat goes against what I interpret as the story's purpose of having Barkha represent those among Indian women who either are bicultural or have more progressive views on gender equality and could have a positive influence on extremely orthodox Indians. Nonetheless, maybe the actress will improve in time, with the proper and focused direction that Waseem Sabir has exercised with others in the cast. Moreover, I would argue that her sudden superimposition is a minor blemish on the beauty of the series.

Secondly, a cautionary note I would give is mistakes in the authenticity of costume design, make-up and set design should be avoided. On one hand, I would argue that most of the characters wear costumes and make-up that are realistic and neither understated nor exaggerated or over-the-top. Nonetheless, in episode 171 broadcast on the 28th October 2015, I noticed that during a scene involving traditional Hindu prayers families have for deceased relatives, a male Hindu Brahman priest character named Gautam (and formerly known as "Bal Mahant") was missing his "Janeo" or a "sacred thread" that is to be worn by all male Brahmans on their torso. In terms of paraphernalia that any male Brahman is supposed to have, this error would be quite glaring for any viewers who have good familiarity with Hindu culture and customs. I would argue that this does not subtract from the strength, depth and realism of the series' plot, themes and ideas, overall direction and character development. However, this does reflect some lack of attention to the authenticity of costume design that highly critical viewers could magnify and interpret as indicating the series' creators have not been thorough while researching their themes and the real-life people the series' characters represent. Repeating this error and similar mistakes could consolidate such views and cause the series' actual depth and substance beneath those surface details to be doubted, overlooked or decried by very particular viewers.

Thirdly, there are occasional moments of melodrama and a few crumbs of slightly tacky visual and sound effects. Echoes are sometimes used when a character delivers a dramatic line or gets slapped. During some of these moments, the camera freezes on some characters' faces while the colour of the film fades to black-and-white, supposedly for the intention of conveying these characters' shock or horror. Nonetheless, in my humble opinion, these elements are sparse blips.

Fourthly, I don't recall a moment of background silence an absence of background music in any of the episodes shown so far. On one hand, I personally think the music score within itself is very good. The music composer, Ashish Rego, and the singers and musicians under his direction are to be commended for their work here. Some of the soundtracks, such as the sad and happy versions of the theme song are beautifully composed and sung so as to be evocative and and atmospheric. I view the theme song as a new addition to timeless classics. The lyrics are beautiful and inspiring for their encouragement of girls and women, as their description of the River Gangaa (Ganges) is a metaphor of the protagonist Gangaa's character:

Gangaa bahee chali jaaye.
Gangaa bahee chali lehron se rastaa banaaye.
Gangaa dukh mein bhi muskaaye.

Iski boondon mein khushiyaa chhupee hain.
Iski lehron ne manzil chhuni hain.
Har rut chale sar uthaaye.
Ye dukh mein bhi muskaaye.
Gangaa dukh mein bhi muskaaye.

English Translation:

Gangaa keeps going.
Gangaa keeps going and, through her own flow, creates a pathway.
Gangaa, even in sadness, keeps smiling.

Within her drops of water, happiness is concealed.
Her waves have chosen their own destination.
She goes through every season with her head lifted high.
She keeps smiling, even in sadness.
Gangaa, even in sadness, keeps smiling.

The soundtracks have been placed very well in some moments of the series. However, I do believe that for some sorts of moments in any film or television series, background silence has a stronger impact than background music and sound effects. Within the field of filmmaking, any included elements should serve the film's or television show's purpose. When aiming to create a powerful film piece about a serious social issue, sound and silence should be used appropriately for increasing the viewers' focus in order to enhance the volume and, in turn, the power, emotional impact and absorption of the story's substance and message, instead of jarring the audience and ironically drowning out the volume with sound. There are some moments where the music is too loud, even when it matches the moments' moods. Appropriately placed breaks between the music for some silence would prevent admirers of more naturalistic filmmaking from being too overwhelmed by the sound instead of the substance.

Nonetheless, having said that, what makes sitting through this easier for me is I like most of the soundtracks. Also, I've become almost desensitised so as to tune it out. Moreover, a point I would like to make to those who may strongly dislike this element is, to be fair and in defence of the creators of Gangaa, they perhaps intend to make a far-reaching appeal in order for the success of their good cause of promoting gender equality throughout India. For that to happen, they ideally must grab the attention of as many people in India as possible, rather than just smaller factions of niche audiences. As annoying as as interludes of high melodrama, garish visual and sound effects and loud music are for admirers of more naturalistic, subtle and sophisticated styles of filmmaking, mainstream Indian audiences seem to like those surface details and, thus, be drawn to watching films and television dramas that feature them. Perhaps they would actually be more likely to be more emotionally engaged, touched and compelled to take positive action to resolve the issues that Gangaa highlights as a result of these very commercial elements that I and other viewers similar to myself might dislike. This is one of the important reasons why I can forgive the inclusion of those features. Another important reason I have is, just like a diamond in the (slightly) rough, the credible, compelling storyline, the very themes and ideas Gangaa presents and the generally very strong, believable acting break through and shine. I find all this admirable substance worth the forbearance of the re-casting for the role of Barkha and the minor flaws within the superficial details.

To explain the main strengths of Gangaa, firstly, the vast majority of the cast has been directed well and consistently show their strong talent by acting naturally, with far between and barely noticeable slips into unnecessary melodrama. In contrast with characters typically seen in forgettable serials that are excruciatingly broken from reality, the main characters in Gangaa are well-rounded, complex and believable so as to feel like real, tangible people with plausible relationships and their own sets of strengths, weaknesses, grey areas, personal struggles and development instead of cardboard cut-outs of black or white characters with unrealistic relationships.

The creators have successfully represented the real mindsets, outlooks, perspectives, attitudes, struggles and issues of differences and disputes within and between generations of conservative, liberal, regressive and progressive people within some families and societies in India. They treat all of them with an objective, balanced, non-judgemental understanding and empathy and, thus, send out a good message to urge their audience to do the same with people in real life, for the sake of bringing about positive change through constructive criticism, corrective action or activism that doesn't involve ingratiation, alienating or antagonising anyone so as to create and perpetuate enmity. I like how they show the diversity of personalities and real lack of uniformity in India. For example, I appreciate how they represent the more progressive and liberal Indians through Niranjan and his endorsement of gender equality. I also like how his wife, Madhvi (played by Gungun Uprari), represents some of the real, more obedient Indian women who are good-hearted and generally wise but uncomfortably pulled in the middle of clashes of outlooks between people like her husband and mother-in-law. Other, more liberated women like Barkha are also represented later in the series. I greatly appreciate how the creators have avoided negatively stereotyping women of Ammaji's generations as narrow-minded, hardened and strictly orthodox, through the side character of an elderly widow called "Pishimaa" (Bengali term for "aunt"). She lives in the aforementioned widows' shelter and nicely represents older generations of women in India who are more gentle, peaceful  sympathetic, understanding and flexible towards girls and women like Gangaa. I like how troublemakers and difficult , more manipulative, narrow-minded men, women, girls and boys are represented by Omkar, Prabha, Yash, Chandan and Bulbul. The relationships and differences between all the characters in the Chaturvedi household are an exceptionally good representation of the reality and complexity of family relationships in India, as are also the realistic representations of relationships outside the Chaturvedi household.

Madhvi in the middle... All three actors have delivered strong performances to demonstrate some examples of real conflicts of outlooks as well as complications in relationships between generations of some Hindu families.

L to R: Hiten Tejwani as Niranjan Chaturvedi, Gungun Uprari as Madhvi and Sushmita Mukherjee as "Ammaji"

Additionally, I believe that especially crucial roles for the power the series are those of Ruhana Khanna as Gangaa, Sushmita Mukherjee as "Ammaji" (Kanta), Hiten Tejwani as Niranjan Chaturvedi and Swar Hingonia as Sagar Chaturvedi. Ruhana Khanna, a six year-old in real life, gives a stunningly good performance as Gangaa. Through her self-respect, resilience in the face of trials and struggles in the story and with her personal development, strengths and weaknesses, Gangaa is a relatable and very inspiring role model for Indian girls and women. Experienced actors, Sushmita Mukherjee and Hiten Tejwani, as well as the talented new ten year-old Swar Hingonia deliver equally good performances.

Kanta or "Ammaji" is one of the characters who well represents women within the older generation of Indians. What I greatly appreciate is how her character is not depicted as purely evil nor depicted through a judgemental lens, but is instead projected as a realistic emblem and psychological case study of orthodox Indian women, whose personalities are understood by Rajita Sharma and Waseem Sabir as a complex of some good, bad as well as grey areas of contradictions and misconceptions. Without giving too much away, my analysis is that she is shown to have some good qualities and morals. She does stand up for some girls and women like her granddaughter, Drishti (or "Babli") and her friend and widow, Sudha, who are ill-treated by some men such as Omkar,  but is also contradictorily misguided in her notions of supposedly prescribed customs for widows and privileges exclusively for males in general and widowers. She is also insecure so as to feel that Gangaa threatens her position in the family and the social status quo prescribed by some orthodox ideals (which she perceives as being prescribed by some Hindu scriptures and being correct). I like that (as the director, Waseem Sabir himself said in an interview) her character and some other female characters in Gangaa represent the reality of how many Indian women share some of the responsibility for the oppression of their own gender. There is a notable number of mothers, daughters, sisters and mothers-in-law who themselves mete out abuse and restrictions to other girls and women, keep rivalry with them and show a lack of empathy towards them.

In contrast with her, Niranjan Chaturvedi's character is a good representation of the progressive, reasonable and mature gentlemen of my parents' generation in India who do exist and are not given much exposure in popular feature films, television programmes and mainstream news stories. He frequently clashes with Ammaji because of his support for Gangaa's personal development and strength that stems from his endorsement of gender equality and hence, education and other equal opportunities for all females, as opposed to Amman's inherent favour of some privileges for males and belief that education for Gangaa and all other widows is unnecessary. He has a good understanding of Gangaa, openly appreciates her intelligence, honesty, boldness and strong sense of self-respect, empathises with her, feels angry and upset for her whenever he knows she has been ill-treated by anyone and frequently stands up for her. He is a highly responsible guardian and father figure for Gangaa, advises her, rebukes her for any wrongdoing and constructively criticises her out of concern for her welfare.  Yet he also understands that even though she is innocent, she has also grown up very quickly because of being widowed and orphaned at a tender age. Out of respect for that and her feelings, whenever Gangaa makes a decision for truly maintaining her self-respect, even if it means handling anything alone and causing him concern for her, Niranjan offers her help and advice for an alternative, but does not impose on her. He treats her as well as his sons with sensitivity and a generally balanced approach. Therefore, he is exemplary for young fathers. He is a positive role model for adult Indian males in general because of his constant assertion, sense of justice, respect for girls and women and balanced, gentlemanly nature.

Gangaa and Niranjan on their way to the Chaturvedi family home, after Gangaa agrees to live there for the first time

Sagar develops a tumultuous but heartwarming and beautiful friendship with Gangaa. He grows and matures in terms of his personal development and attitude towards her. I believe his character development effectively represents the same innocence and indiscrimination boys are born with as girls. He is a good representation of how some Indian boys face setbacks of being born innocent, but associated with others who try to negatively influence them to develop prejudices against girls and women, particularly widows and those from rural rural villages of a lower socioeconomic status than them. I find him tangibly real and as endearing as Gangaa. Swar Hingonia's remarkable talent and versatility show through his impressively natural acting and well-rounded characterisation of Sagar. He becomes his role and is, thus, emotionally engaging.

Swar Hingonia as Sagar

I enjoy seeing Sagar's journey through testing problems, his learning curve and resultant growth. His kind-hearted character, good qualities and relationship with Gangaa symbolise the hope and ideal for the males and females in the future to love, respect, care for and value each other as equals, live and work with each other in harmony instead of fighting, hating or competing with each other.

Sagar and Gangaa sharing a moment of unspoken solidarity

Overall, I find Gangaa to be promising so far. My only concern is I hope the creators won't repeat one huge mistake typically made by other Indian soap opera creators. That is, dragging on the series for too long with unnecessary filler episodes that are poorer in substance, lacking any sensitively, maturely or realistically delivered messages/themes of much importance and sensibility, in comparison with the episodes broadcast so far. Doing so would distort the overall picture of the series, make it a cluttered mess and damage its beauty. It would be like making unnecessary additions to an already beautiful dress so as to cheapen it and make it tacky. One especially detrimental way of doing so would be to keep creating implausible and torturously long repetitions of storms and upsets in relationships between the positive characters, especially Gangaa's and Sagar's friendship.

The past challenges to Gangaa's and Sagar's friendship are possible and do powerfully highlight and warn of the real negative influences some prejudiced people create to perpetuate problems of classism, sexism and gender inequality. However, since these problems were realised and overcome by them, the creators should stress a good message conveying that while it's obviously natural to make mistakes and sometimes be misguided or manipulated, people should learn from any major mistakes once they realise them and determine not to repeat them too many times. They should demonstrate this by having Sagar and Gangaa trust each other, keep the loyalty and solidarity of their unity and mutual understanding. This would demonstrate a good example of strong, true friendship, mutual understanding, care and respect between boys and girls, men and women and, hence, gender equality. I do hope Rajita Sharma, Waseem Sabir and the producers will not mistakenly decide otherwise for the sake of conforming with commercial theatrics of creating overstretched melodrama of excessively repeated misunderstandings, disputes and complications between the same characters. If they do, what probably will result is the creators may defeat their own purpose of creating a powerful appeal and inspiring positive action and change for gender equality as audiences will become bored or put off and will stop taking the series and its characters seriously. Treating the series itself, its characters and the audience with respect for intelligence and sensibility (instead of unintelligent insensibility and sensationalism), by keeping the plot crisp and focused on continuing to promote critical thinking and good ideals, will result in a consistently good standard that will maintain respect and responsiveness from the audience in return.

To conclude, I would give the Gangaa series an overall rating of 4/5 stars, 3/5 stars for its technical details (costume design, make-up, sound and visual effects, set design) and 4/5 stars for its overall direction, storyline, depth and substance. I consider it to be a commendable Indian television drama for its realistic representations and promoting the cause of obscured Indian girls and women. I hope the creators will maintain the good standard of their work so as to inspire real, positive change for gender equality and that Gangaa will be a classic to be valued by more generations to come.

Blog Series 1: Obscured Women of India (Part I)

Not all Indian women have been weak, submissive, downtrodden, deprived and uneducated in modern, medieval as well as ancient history. In fact, India has been the origin of autonomous unmarried female artists, priestesses, warrior queens, women wrestlers, women bodyguards of royalty, women soldiers... and women guards posted at forts, palaces and harems with the authority to check even fellow officers when necessary! Mind you, all the examples I've listed up to this sentence existed in India's ancient past! If this has sparked your interest, I now inform you that as the history known to me is long, complex and rich in examples, all I have learned will be elaborated to the best of my ability within a series of blog posts about the topic of obscured women of India. Hence, the words "Part I" in the title of this post you are reading now!

I think that clearly, the majority of the world's population (including many people of Indian ethnicity) has not seen an authentic representation of the wide spectrum of India's women in history and the present. As a person who is very lucky to have been exposed to such a representation since my early childhood, through the work by my mother (social historian, Dr Kusum Pant Joshi) and father (film historian/critic and documentary filmmaker, Lalit Mohan Joshi), knowing and/or learning about generations of other Indian women in my own family, watching films as well as my own independent reading and research, I think it's a shame that the reality of this topic has not been widely disseminated by mainstream media, a number of academicians and even some politicians and activists. I don't deny the problems as well as the massive improvements in the overall state of women in India and the world.  However, it's apparent that the obscurity of the actual variance of India's spectrum of past and present women is due not only to an innocent ignorance within some who work in mainstream media, academic research, politics and activism, but also to a deep-seated prejudice concerning India's women and deliberate actions by others in these fields to obscure the women who defy this prejudice. This is the unfortunate legacy of invasions of India and has played a factor in the disempowerment of some Indian women who live in oppressive families. Here, the oppressors and the oppressed have no sight of their heritage.

Now on a short tangent, in case anyone misunderstands me here, I don't romanticise India or any other place or people. I'm aware that crimes and acts of discrimination against women have been committed in ancient Indian history before India fell under foreign rule, just as there are worldwide crimes and discrimination against women co-occurring today with progressive attitudes and mobility for women across the world. Nonetheless, I don't think one should deny or underrate the positive aspects of India's history by looking only at its negative aspects and overemphasising them. Sayings about each individual having their own realities/perspectives and life's ups and downs in the present also apply to history. As we can safely say that each individual is complex and can't be narrowed down to a label, we can't label any part of history with certainty, especially since we don't know each and every single detail of any history.

Now to come back to focus, I think it's important for those of the oppressive Indian families to review their past in order to apply the positive elements of Indian women's history to changing their own mindsets and behaviour. I believe this would be much more effective than their being confined to notions of women's emancipation being a new, "threatening" Western phenomenon of modern history and, hence, reacting with resentment and obstinacy towards criticism of their current oppressiveness, from Western feminists and others outside India.

After much thought, I've decided that a good area to start with is postcolonial literature about the position of Indian women in the family. Here, I would like to share an essay I wrote about this subject as I was studying English Literature in 2012. Those who are familiar with the writings of Shashi Deshpande and Anita Desai might also be interested in my analysis. My apologies for not being able to include my footnotes. Correct me if I'm wrong - to me, there doesn't seem to be a way of including footnotes in blog posts on this website!

Future posts I'm planning to write for this particular blog series on Obscured Women of India will be about powerful Indian women characters in some noteworthy films of India over the years and real-life powerful Indian women from the twentieth and nineteenth centuries, medieval and ancient times. I think it may be logical to go in reverse chronological order. 

I'll keep doing my best to keep my knowledge updated. Please feel free to share any thoughts, questions and/or constructive feedback! Discussions and debates are most welcome, as long as everyone will be respectful.

(Please note: all comments will be moderated, so any attempts to be abusive will be in vain!)

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Postcolonial literature: the position of Indian women in the family

Chandra Talpade Mohanty criticises Western feminists as homogenising all "Third World" women as being oppressed by their societies, submissive, naïve, backward, uneducated and unaware of their rights as being equal to those of men. She disapproves of Western feminists suggesting that women can only emancipate themselves by adopting their Western ideal of revolting, completely breaking away from all their older socio-cultural gender roles, and playing a dominant role in their household. Mohanty illustrates that "Third World" women have developed their own alternative feminisms that liberate them by asserting their rights against any oppressive patriarchy and (simultaneously) sustaining their original cultural identity through accommodating some of their socio-cultural values. Using Mohanty's argument as a theoretical framework, I will analyse postcolonial literature about the position of Indian women in the family. I will argue that literary works of Indian women authors living in India clearly illustrate that, in line with Mohanty's argument, there have been and still are Indian women in the family who are privileged and have a reasonably good status. I will argue that they are revealed by such literature to have their own unique strength and, therefore, as having no need to embrace Western feminism in order to be liberated. Some of these women could perhaps benefit more by developing their own Indian feminism that accommodates their socio-cultural values in order to achieve a more "balanced" and satisfying lifestyle and relationship with their husbands and families. I will present documentation of the historically held rights of Indian women and the writings of Shashi Deshpande as opposed to the writings of Anita Desai.

            In Chapter 1 of Feminism Without Borders: Decolonizing Theory, Practising Solidarity, Mohanty criticises the tendencies in scholarship and writing by educated "Western" feminists (whether they are based in Western discourse or representing "Third World" women for reflecting on their own culture) for portraying Third World women as oppressed, underprivileged and voiceless. According to Mohanty, the "average Third World woman" is defined as being "domestic" (i.e., backward), not progressive, and "illiterate" (i.e., ignorant) since the "Third World" is perceived as "developing" (unlike the "First World") and, therefore, as "not evolved to the extent the West has". Western feminists have tended to assume that Third World women most strongly wish to be "released" from male patriarchy, like women in the West. In terms of their position in the family, all Third World women, including Indian women, are viewed to be a monolithic, oppressed group, regardless of their cultural and historical contexts. By homogenising the experiences of different groups of women in Third World countries, including Indian women in India, this mode of feminist analysis overlooks "all marginal and resistant modes and experiences", where Third World women are not oppressed. In the case of how Indian women living in India are viewed by Western feminist scholarship and writing, this tendency is evidently the legacy of colonialism (i.e., a postcolonial view). This is because, during colonial rule, Indian women became objects of "political contestation" during the Raj. Western patriarchs competed with Eastern patriarchs by selectively reading classical texts to arrive at diametrically opposite views on Indian women, in order to help justify their rule and Westernisation of India. Evangelicals exaggerated the abject condition of some Indian women to justify converting them to Christianity. Colonial evangelical commentaries based on a bird's eye view of some misogynist Indian customs fuelled the Victorian British people's idea of Western superiority. For example, even though John Stuart Mill had never visited India, he described its women as "generally degraded" and concluded that "Nothing can exceed the contempt which Hindus entertain for their women". Such initial images of India left an indelible mark upon Europeans, in that they perceived Indian women to be underprivileged and ill-treated in the family.

            Mohanty points out that there are some women from Third World countries who have been influenced to hold the same biases as some Western feminists. This includes Third World women who have lived away from their countries of origin. I would argue that this point applies to Indian women writers who have lived in the West for a considerably long time and who have not visited India to see or be "updated" on the current state of its women. Even if these women writers were brought up in India or had a long-term stay in India in previous decades (before moving to the West), the themes of their works would clearly be outdated as a result of not experiencing firsthand (and, therefore, not being regularly informed of) the shifts in the status of Indian women. Therefore, I argue that the literary works of these particular indian women writers, including Anita Desai, are not reliable or truly representative portrayals of Indian women living in India. Anita Desai was born and brought up in India, but moved to the West after the 1980s. Since then, she spends most of the year away from India. She admits that as a result of this, she feels like she is "drifting" further away from India and cannot write about it with the same "familiarity" as when she was in India. Therefore, I argue that her novels on Indian women living in India are outdated accounts and are biased by Western feminism. Moreover, the female protagonists in her novels are not "average" characters whom every Indian woman residing in India can identify with. As Desai herself admits:             

I am interested in characters who are not average but have retreated or been driven into some kind of despair.

            Indeed, the central female protagonists in her novels are highly oppressed and dominated by men and their patriarchal families. A most notable example is the character of Monisha in Voices in the City, a novel about family and the impact of the city of Calcutta (which is now Kolkata) on the protagonists. It is true that Desai wrote Voices in the City before she first moved away from India. However, I point out that in spite of this, the dominant home culture in Desai's household was the European one of her German mother (since her family spoke German at home). Although Desai says in an interview that she never identified herself as a German, she admits that she thinks about India "as an outsider", because of the influence of her mother, who did not completely assimilate within India and its culture, since "there was a European core in her which protested against certain Indian things, which always maintained its independence and separateness". Monisha is intelligent and well-read, but nobody in her family appreciates or cares about her, including her husband. She does not get privacy:             

I am glad they give me so much work to do. I am glad to be occupied in cutting vegetables, serving food, brushing small children's hair. Only I wish I were given some tasks I could do alone, in privacy, away from the aunts and uncles, the cousins and nieces and nephews. Alone, I could work better, and should feel more--whole.

Through her portrayal of female protagonists like Monisha, Desai depicts women in Indian society as dominated by men. In all her novels, women are shown as living a life of "ceaseless passive waiting". In Voices in the City, their lives are described as:

Lives spent in waiting for nothing, waiting on men self-centred and indifferent and hungry and demanding and critical, waiting for death and drying misunderstood, always behind bars, whose terrifying black bars that shut us in, in the old house, in the old city. 

Here, Desai reflects the Western bias that Indian women wish to be "released" from their families, which are oppressively patriarchal in nature.

            Also, Monisha is ridiculed by other members of the family. For instance, since Monisha is childless, her sister-in-law directly and openly discusses the idea of her genitals being in a state of malfunction. Monisha regularly writes in a diary as a medium for expressing her oppressed feelings and obsessions. Ultimately, Monisha sets herself on fire since, as quoted by Agrawal, she cannot "endure" the assaulting existential forces in the family. I would argue that Monisha's experience and her ending indicates that Desai is influenced by and accords with the often inherently biased Western feminist view: Third World women are ill-treated by their families and are "weak" in that they have no "inner strength" for enduring or surviving such ill-treatment.

            In contrast with Anita Desai, Shashi Deshpande challenges the bias within Western feminism that women in India are oppressed by their families and seek the same "release" from male patriarchy as some middle-class Western women. Unlike Desai, she has always lived in India and her dominant household or home culture is Indian. She also claims that she is not a "feminist" in the "Western" sense. Therefore, I argue that her depictions of Indian women in her novels are more authentic. I argue that she conveys the point that not all Indian women are underprivileged and ill-treated in the family, and also depicts that even Indian women who are unjustly treated by their families are not "weak" in the sense that they cannot psychologically endure ill-treatment and are devoid of inner strength. In Roots and Shadows, for example, when Indu and her husband (Jayant) talk about Mini (Indu's relative) and how she has "no choice" but to "accept" the wishes of her family for whom she will marry, Jayant says:

Don't feel sorry for her, Indu. She looks a victim, but you know what I feel? It seems to me that the weak have their weapons as well as the strong. And those women... I don't know if you can really call them weak. They have an inner strength we know very little of.

On one hand, Indu states that the Indian women in her family have had "no choice but to admit, to accept", but even though she says that Mini "had no choice either", she describes Mini to have "accepted the reality, the finality, with a grace and composure that spoke eloquently of [...] inner strength".

            Indeed, many such women throughout history have shown inner strength, literacy, individuality and progressive views by writing literature and using their literal silence as a form of protest against ill-treatment in the family. As Sita Raman states, "women did rebel quietly through nonconformism and loudly through religious literature". The most famous examples are the Kannada hymns of Akkamahadevi (twelfth century), a woman saint who rejected caste and gender inequality; the padas (songs) in three languages of Rajput saint Mira (sixteenth century) who cast aside prescribed norms of feminine and royal behaviour; and the yakshagana folk songs of the Telegu widow Tarigonda Venkamba (nineteenth century), who was compelled by society to become a recluse. Other women worked from within the patriarchal order to negotiate with elite men through their writings. Betrayed in love, Chandrabati (sixteenth century) wrote Humayun Nama, a biography of her brother in Persian; and courtesan Mahlaqa Bai Chanda (eighteenth century) composed Urdu Ghazal poetry. In terms of postcolonial literature, Deshpande highlights this in That Long Silence. In That Long Silence, Deshpande shows how Indian housewives used silence to demonstrate their anger. In spite of being trained to be submissive and obedient, the female protagonist, Jaya, resents rather than accepts the treatment meted out to her by her husband and "Though she seemed to be passive, she continued [a] 'guerilla war' with her husband for many years" through using her silence as a "weapon". Jaya also sublimates her frustration through writing. She writes for a newspaper column and uses her imagination and self-assertion as weapons in order to question the meaning of marriage. She confronts life through her fiction and writes a story of a man "who could not reach out to his wife except through her body". Although her husband is deeply hurt by her story and believes it to be a literal depiction of their own married life, Jaya is too strong to get affected by such minor acts of disapproval.

            Moreover, Deshpande asserts that Indian women in the family do not need to rebel in the same way as Western feminism endorses. She related that the more current concern for women is balancing their career and self-development with their family responsibilities. As pointed out by Prasad and Chandra:

The predicament of Indu represents the larger predicament of women in contemporary Indian society where the new concept of Western education, economic independence and globalization have completely shaken the roots of old Indian culture and social values. The breaking up of the joint family -- the school of inculcating dedication, sacrifice, moral values etc... is the immediate visible impact upon the Indian culture. It has adversely affected different relationships at different levels in general and husband-wife relationships in particular. The novelist has very subtly conveyed the message of mutual understanding and co-operation between wife and husband.

Initially, Indu says that she no longer fights the fact that she needs her husband, due to her love for him, and is not ashamed of it. She says: "I know it does not make me less of human being. On the contrary, I remember Old Uncle's words... 'the whole world is made up of interdependent parts. Why not you? [...] All things are connected.'" Deshpande suggests, through Roots and Shadows, that the Indian woman does not need to be rebellious like the Western feminists nor weak and submissive. Instead, married Indian women should move forward, by seeking their freedom within the periphery of marriage through mutual understanding without neglecting the Indian socio-cultural values -- I believe that by conveying this idea, Deshpande accurately represents how Indian women have multiple identities besides being female, as well as loyalties to groups including their religion, nation and family that dissuade them from joining in a "generic sisterhood" like Western feminism. Living such a lifestyle and not resorting to "revolt" or "revenge" is the main aspect of Indian feminism. In the following quote, Indu suggests that Indian women can have freedom and privileges within the periphery of their family without breaching, and in spite of, their boundaries and family obligations:

'[...] There have to be some rules so that life can have both dignity and grace. We can always find measures of freedom within these rules.' [...] To fulfil one's obligations, to discharge one's responsibilities... can I not find freedom within this circle?

            Furthermore, in line with this quote about freedom for women within the periphery of the family and unlike literary works of the same biased Western feminist nature as Anita Desai, I interpret Deshpande to demonstrate that Indian women in the family have not all been underprivileged, but are actually respected and exercise considerable authority and influence. Regarding the influence of Indian women in the family during the early 1900s, Coomaraswamy writes that "women are accorded corresponding honour, and exert a corresponding influence on society", and that "even at the present day, it would be impossible to over-emphasise the influence of Indian mothers not only upon their children and in all household affairs, but upon their grown-up sons to whom their word is law". Within certain Indian communities in particular, such as in parts of south India and in Kashmir, women have actually enjoyed extraordinary powers. This is echoed in the power and influence of Akka's character in Roots and Shadows. Although Akka is initially ill-treated by her husband and mother-in-law, she grows to become strong.

Since the day Akka had come back, a rich childless widow to her brother's house, she had maintained an absolute control over her brother's children. Kaka, even after becoming a grandfather, could be reduced to a red-faced stuttering schoolboy by Akka's venomous tongue....

            On one hand, one can interpret this quote to reflect how a vicious cycle of oppression is perpetuated in Indian families, as Indian daughters-in-law who have previously been oppressed and dominated by their mothers-in-law often grow to assume similar roles and behaviour of their mothers-in-law. Indeed, Raman supports this by saying that just as Akka's mother-in-law placed restrictions on her as a child bride, Akka herself is revealed to have prohibited Saroja (her deceased junior relative and the young wife of Old Uncle) from being taught by a singing teacher. The fact that Kaka claims that Akka was wrong to do so seems to support this point and implies that Saroja was unwillingly coerced into obeying Akka. However, I interpret that Akka's actual motive for placing this restriction is not oppression, but protecting the safety of Saroja. I interpret that Saroja willingly accepts this restriction out of her loyalty to the family and her wish to "protect" her "family honour" as she "never complained" against this restriction and is revealed to have been encouraged to learn music later after she marries Old Uncle. My interpretation is supported by the following rationale. Akka clearly expresses that she does not object to singing itself, but worries that Saroja's learning music will jeopardise her safety when she says:

'What -- learn music from a strange man! Sit and sing in front of strangers! [...] Isn't it enough for you sing one or two devotional songs, or one or two aarti songs?'

            I propose that through this, Deshpande (as a postcolonial writer) intentionally and effectively challenges the neo-colonial universalist view - inherent in Western feminism - that Third World women tend to be backward, passive, submissive and oppressed by their roles within the familial system. Indeed, to elaborate, I post that these events in Deshpande's novel authentically represent how women artists (singers and dancers) have always been valued in India. In previous centuries, it was considered respectable for Indian women to show their artistic talents through public singing and dance performances. However, restrictions (like that made by Akka on Saroja) were placed on women by their families out of fear for their safety during the occurrences of foreign invasions in previous centuries and, also, as a result of the British colonialists themselves who labelled forms of Indian music and dance as debauched and immoral activities. As Raman suggests, the original motive for women being restricted in this manner by their families is their protection from foreign immigrants of the same race as the invaders:

Despite the persistence of local pockets of aboriginal and Dravidian matrilineal societies, and enclaves of Buddhist, Jaina, and Hindu nuns, the many layers of mainstream patriarchal society were cemented by adopting Sanskritic values (or "Sanskritization") due to foreign invasions, immigration settlement, and internecine feudal wars. These occurred centuries before Islam and European Christianity infused their own patriarchal features into Indian society.

Many of the invaders are known to have subjected women in the families of their defeated enemies to rape, slavery or slaughter. Indeed, as Raman documents, it was "During tumultuous colonial wars over hegemony in India (seventeenth to nineteenth century)" when women "retreated further into private courtyards and zenanas, constrained further by child marriage" in their families.

            In spite of these constraints, Deshpande shows that Indian women of Saroja's generation were still privileged in the sense that many child and adult wives were educated by their husbands. After marrying Saroja when she was thirteen years old, Old Uncle educated Saroja as he felt that it was his duty to do so. Such a practice was encouraged by the Indian Women's Movement (part of the Social Reform Movement of the 1800s) in India and thus became commonplace during the nineteenth century. As outlined by Gandhi and Shah, the first mahila mandals organised by the Arya Samaj and the Brahmo Samaj (the Hindu revivalist and reformist organisations) provided women with a space for socialising and education. Women met other women outside their families, learned how to read and write and even how to view stars through a telescope. The fact that these actions were male-initiated and made by Indians for Indians, clearly counters the view of Western feminism that all women have always been oppressed by their families and men. In fact, these initiatives were "the first public propagation of the belief [of Indians] that it is not the destiny or fate of women to be oppressed, illiterate and ignorant". Moreover, "the Social Reform Movement set in motion forces which encouraged the emergence of a number of women doctors, social workers, teachers and scholars, the first cadres of the women's movement who gradually took over from men the cause and the organisation". By the early 1900s, numerous women's organisations grew, "mainly in urban centres, but remarkably all over India". Among these were a Brahmin women's home built by Subbalaxmi Amal in Madras, the Mahila Seva Samaj in Mysore, the Bhagni Samaj in Pune, and the Chamanbai Maternity and Child Welfare Board in Baroda. Some liberal histories claim that reformers are indebted to Western secular and Christian thought for their ideas. However, they claim this without acknowledging the reformers' early education in humanist Indian scriptures. For example, Tamil reformers Vedanayakam Pillai and Madhaviah frequently quoted the Jaina sage Tiruvallavar (ca. 100 CE) on gender equity.

            Overall, Deshpande's novels effectively reflect the strong position of Indian women in the family, as opposed to Western feminist accounts and works by Desai and other Indian women writers influenced by the bias in Western feminism. However, Shashi Deshpande's novels mainly represent urban middle-class women of the culture of India's region of Karnataka. Since India is a multilingual country that is multicultural and economically diverse with a wide variety of urban as well as rural contexts in which gender hierarchies are understood and challenged, one cannot even have a holistic view of the position and status of each and every single Indian woman in the family. As aforementioned, there are pockets of aboriginal and Dravidian societies that are different from the more mainstream patriarchal societies in India as they are traditionally matrilineal and have sexual norms favourable to women. For example, the Todas of Tamil Nadu have been documented by W. H. Rivers as having exotic matrilineal and "promiscuous" practices favourable for women in the early 1900s. Also, as noted by Singh, Wlodarski, Mahapatra, Karafin, Karlin and Thomas, women in Kerala have enjoyed great freedom and power over their household and families through matrilineal kinship that was established in their societies by the fourteenth century. Moreover, as pointed out by Purkayastha, Subramaniam, Desai and Bose, "What is written in the English language represents a minuscule portion of the ongoing debates on the subject" of gender. The writing in regional languages, which receives less global attention, is equally important, because many regional languages have very vibrant debates, controversies, and other writings on gender, and their roots can be traced through centuries. I would argue that scholars of postcolonial Indian women's literature should not only look at postcolonial women's writing in English, but also at literature in all the native languages by other female Indian authors dwelling in all geographic areas and of all socioeconomic statuses.

            In conclusion, postcolonial literary works by Indian women writers who have lived in india, continuously witnessed the ongoing changes in the status of Indian women within the family in India, and whose depictions of these women have not been influenced by the biases of Western feminism (like Roots and Shadows and That Long Silence by Shashi Deshpande) are not only more reliable than the depictions of women from the West, but also more reliable than the comparatively outdated novels by Indian women writers, like Anita Desai, who have been influenced by Western feminism, immigrated to reside in the West, and who have not been regularly exposed to the shifts in the current state of women in present India. Desai accords with the Western view of Indian women, by depicting female protagonists (like Monisha in Voices in the City) as oppressed and underprivileged by the family. Conversely, Deshpande challenges the Western view of Indian women in the family. She effectively represents how many Indian women have inner strength and are enabled by their culture's respect for women to be influential, privileged and to pursue their own Indian feminism, even when under constraints placed (often for their safety rather than oppressing them) by the family. Nonetheless, since her novels are based in urban cities and mainly depict middle-class Kannada women, Shashi Deshpande cannot holistically represent the position of all Indian women within the family, due to the diversity of familial systems (and the position of Indian women within these systems) being much wider than depicted in her novels. This, in turn, is due to the varying socioeconomic statuses and subcultures that determine how women are treated within the family. In order to have a more holistic representation of Indian women and indian feminisms in India, scholars should gather, translate and analyse postcolonial literature written in all the native languages of India by Indian women writers that represent women from all socioeconomic strata and other geographical parts of India with differing subcultural rights and rules for women.

Bibliography

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