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Our Teen Deviyan In France - Sunny Singh Sunny Singh was born in Varanasi. She received her education in various parts of India and the world. She has worked as a journalist, teacher, and as a management executive for multinationals in Mexico, Chile and South Africa. For the last four years, she has been writing full-time. She is also a playwright. Her first play, Birthing Athena, focussed on evolving relationships and the price of ambition in post-liberalisation India. The Times of India described the play as "an intensely cathartic experience." Her first novel, Nani's Book of Suicides, had been published by Harper Collins Publishers India. Described by the Hindustan Times as a "first novel of rare scope and power," the novel explores the cultural identity of an Indian woman through a fund of myths, family lore and contemporary reality. Her second book, Single in the City: The independent woman's handbook was released on Dec 22, 2000 by Penguin India. Visit Sunny Singh's website at: http://www.sunnysingh.net/

India presented its diverse facets at the Cannes Film Festival 2005, showing off three of the country's most beautiful women....

Like other Indians living in Europe, I spent the last couple of weeks closely watching the going-ons at the Cannes Film Festival. Of course, given my interest in how media works, I was also following the write ups in the press, both back home and overseas. Much of the desi press has of course been devoted to the "teen deviyan," as one Indian newspaper dubbed them, who have been strutting their stuff along the Mediterranean: Nandita Das, Aishwarya Rai and Mallika Sherawat. And there has been much moaning the fact that "Indian" cinema still hasn't made its mark at the "prestigious" festival (this mostly from English-language Indian dailies). Then there was a vitriolic piece about how Aishwarya embodied the "ethereal, graceful Indian woman" in the mould of Hema Malini and Sridevi, while Mallika had practically shamed the nation with her brash in-your-face style, and therefore could only aspire to "wet dream" status like Zeenat Aman (by default, Aishwarya would take the apparently irresistable prize of being the take-home-to-mummyji girl).

I think its about time we took a closer look at the teen deviyan representing India at Cannes. Personally, I don't care if the only film the French care to include in the festival as classics is Satyajit Rays ouvre (although Mother India apparently got an outing too). Cannes celebrates a certain kind of cinema, with specific benchmarks and traditions. My kind of cinema - often derided as Bollywood - is in a different category all together. Its like bringing in oranges to a competition of apples.

Of course, Cannes has never really appreciated non-Western cinema. Am I the only one who has read about how Kaagaz ke Phool was slammed by the Cannes audience and critics? The famous scene in the haunting "Waqt ne kiya" where the "souls" of the two lovers walk and meet in a beam of light had the cultural philistines (at least from an Indian perspective) in the audience laughing out loud. Yet in 2004, the Centre Pompidou showing of the same film was so popular with the French that one had to cue up hours before to merely enter the theatre. But Paris isn't Cannes! And this particular festival has little to do with non-Western cinematic forms.

Which of course brings us back to the teen deviyan. I am glad that we had multiple showings, by three women as different as possible from each other, at the festival. Far too often, a whole billion of us get lumped together in certain categories: demure (read submissive) good Indian girl category being the most ubiquitous one. And at least this time around, the three Indian actresses stomping about in Cannes went quite a ways in splitting those categories wide open.

Nandita Das, of course, embodied the intelligent urban chic, albeit of the Delhi glitterati variety. Her heavy red silk sari complete with gold jewellery and the white gajra stood out amongst the varying shades of black that the other jury members sported. As did the funky kurtas and chunky silver jewellery at less formal occasions. For someone who pulls out her own saris for any occasion that requires me to be "Indian," Nandita appealed to my sense of style: cool, independent, intelligent, and about as gracefully Indian as anyone can imagine.

Of course, I must also point out, that just how removed Cannes film festival is from our tradition of filmmaking was reflected precisely by her presence on the jury. If I remember correctly, Aishwarya Rai had served on the jury a couple of years ago. Just how carefully the festival organisers research non-Western cinema is obvious from those choices. The two women, unfortunately, have been chosen as token symbols, and glamorous ones at that, to help the photo-ops along. Through them, the festival organisers can present an illusion of diversity - "see, we are an international festival, after all!" God knows, it can't possibly for their professional achievements and track records.

As a cine-fanatic, I have often been left wondering how is it possible that Amitabh Bachchan has never been invited to serve on the jury, despite his four decades of contributions to cinema. But then the Cannes organisers have also probably never heard of Gulzar, Javed Akhtar, Mani Ratnam, Santosh Sivan. Their loss, in the end, I suppose.

But we go back to the teen deviyan who did tread the red carpet this year. While much has been written about Aishwarya's presence, especially in the Indian press, I was left wondering why we even bother wasting newsprint on her any more. She made her appearances in Western designer-gear generally reserved for second-string Hollywood starlets, with swathes of bare skin and little individuality. Of course, she was still applauded for somehow "embodying the essence of the Indian woman," by a section of the Indian media.

I beg to differ on this account. For the past year, I have been watching Ms. Rai traipse through Europe and North America in clothes that have made me wince, if not snigger. They are supposed to be "designer" originals, and I am sure they cost a bomb. But if I were her, I would fire my stylist. On Letterman, her outfit made her look dumpy, with her knees bearing a remarkable resemblance to Winston Churchill (minus the cigar). Then she did her "geisha with a dead poodle around her neck" (as per the Guardian) look at a premier a few months ago. Every so often I spot a face in a Western advertisement, always wondering at first about how the model reminds me of Aishwarya Rai. And I always do a double take, when I realise that it is her. But then with contact-lens-enhanced blue eyes, blonde hair and whitened skin, I wonder just which part of the Indian diaspora or back-home population is she supposed to appeal to.

I remember watching the International Show Jumping competition in Barcelona last fall. Most of the famous models, actresses and "to-be-seen" lot were walking around in fabulous boots, amazing jackets and made-to-order jeans generally outfits that fit into the walking-in-gravel-and-mud, outdoors-on-a-Sunday look. Then we spotted this one woman with orange-blonde curls walking around in a black silk crepe skirt and top, with satin stilletos to match. She made her way gingerly through crowds of horse-mad families, barely able to balance as her heels sank into the soil with each step. I laughed at the spectacle along with my friends. As she drew closer, however, I wanted to hide in shame. It was Aishwarya Rai! As the only other Indian in the venue, her inappropriate gear and "I am whiter than white" persona was trashy at best, and acutely embarrassing to say the least. But then I relaxed. One of the woman behind us commented that she appeared to be one of those "Latin American TV actresses" who routinely haunt European circuits hoping to find a rich husband. I kept my mouth shut. This is one woman I don't plan to claim as one of my compatriots!

Which brings me to the devi most maligned by our press at Cannes: Mallika Sherawat. Do I think much of her sense of style? No. At the press release, she looked like she had forgotten her dupatta behind, and her breasts threatened to fall out of that gorgeous but barely there choli. She looked like a Helen-wannabe on a bad day. On the other hand, she is precisely that - a struggling starlet with a couple of small budget films behind her and a small town upbringing. And she made no bones about it.

If her dressing style bordered on risque, her brashness made up for it. She compared herself to Garbo and Monroe, breathily declared "there is no competition, honey, there is no competition." She laughed and flirted and struck a thousand poses. Her excitement at being the synosure of a million eyes was infectious. And her confidence levels - self attributed to her jat genes - admirable. In a flash of the camera, she made the demure, I-don't-kiss-because-I-am-an-Indian" Ms. Rai look like a sepia-toned fade-out. Apparently, she has managed to land a few contracts as well, in addition, of course to Jackie Chan's upcoming movie, The Myth.

Her blow-a-kiss pose on the red carpet was pure Marilyn, and if the expressions on the faces of the predominantly male photographers was anything to go by, the West may have found its newest Indian fantasy. And her personal style was refreshingly in-your-face. If James Bond wants a girl from India for his new adventure, he should take a closer look at Mallika - she will kiss, she won't giggle incessantly or simper, and she won't need rescuing (in the trailors for The Myth, she performs some action scenes reminescent of Charlie's Angels, but clad in a red and gold lehnga!). There is only one problem: she just might upstage him!

The teen deviyan, as I said earlier, did a good job of representing the various facets of India. If Nandita was cool, collected, intelligent, Aishwarya wore the face of the persistant colonial past which believes that white-is-better and that the only road to success is the one detailed by Lord Macauley: being Indian by blood but firang in everything else. Mallika was the surprise package!

In a country where more than 54 percent of the population is under 25 years of age, and developments on the economic, social and political front are instilling a growing sense of confidence amongst the youth, she was the new face of India: aggressive, ambitious and bold enough to reach out and grab the dream. For that alone, my personal vote goes to Mallika as the most representative Indian face.for the moment, and for the future.

Till we connect again...

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