Some thoughts on Antarmukhi, or an extremely long meditation on the Madonna-whore complex

Some thoughts on Antarmukhi

Antarmukhi is a novel by Parijat. I picked it up because I admire Parijat's writing already, and wanted to read more by her.

I think it is important to clear up in the beginning that I admire Parijat immensely and that she may be my favorite Nepali writer. Because I was disappointed by Antarmukhi, to say the least. But after I finished it and put it aside, the more I thought about it, the more fascinated I became.

Let us start at the beginning. Warning: spoilers ahead. Although that is not much of a warning, because nothing really happens in the book.

Antarmukhi is a novel in epistolary format, it is the diary entries of a typist, Sarala. A dreadfully depressed typist, to be more specific. So here a lady, young, nubile, but dreary. The reasons for her dreariness are not clea r: it could be the fact that she is poor and struggles as a typist and always wishes she had a better paying job. Or it could be the fact that she doesn't have parents and lives with her mama, maiju and their three daughters,

who all treat her with indifference. Or it could be the fact that she doesn't know how to attract men (which she vents about a lot).

The Antarmukhi

But I think it has actually got to do with her personality. She is simply born dreary, and I think who goes near her would want to run as far away as they can from her. First of all, Sarala complains of how her life is so boring, how little money she earns, and how she gives most of it to her maiju but her maiju is still unkind to her (fair enough). But then Sarala goes on to complain about how other girls go to cinemas and she wonders why they go, why they find it fun at all, and how come they want to run around with SO MANY boys, if he just shows her a cinema, it is enough for them to go hold hands, and who knows, let him loot (?) her…………

Then Sarala complains about how this other girl asks her what brand of powder she uses, and when she says that she has no idea, the other girl shows off her "magic touch" brand, and Sarala wonders how the other girl has money for all this and pretty saris when she earns as much as her.

She sometimes humblebrags about how, despite doing no makeup, she still is complemented for having an attractive body, but she has "no interest" in a guy who asks her out for coffee or cinema, and proudly rebuffs his advances. Why? We are not told, except for moral high ground.

She has plenty of opportunities for moral high ground as she judges women left, right and center: her cousin who runs away, comes back after a few days, to the great sorrow of her maiju who thinks she has slept around. Sarala wonders how her cousin can show her face after such shameful acts. And then there is her neighbor Malati didi, who sticks around with a drunkard husband, a husband that Sarala witnesses necking with another of her cousins. Sarala admires Malati for being love and kind, but then judges her for making the effort to be happy with her husband, first eloping with him, and then celebrating their anniversary, and then getting pregnant. How can she stay with such a man and be happy? She wonders.

Let this suffice for the story of the book. There is a very short love-interest that passes in the blink of an eye. One wonders what is even the point of mentioning the fact that her heart became cold when she hears that X is close to Y, and it became not so cold and is reassured when Y rejects X because he is into politics. Sarala never meets Y throughout the book and we don't even know what Y thinks of Sarala, only that he rejected X for politics. And from Sarala's side too, we hear no more apart from the cold heart episode, she makes no effort to meet him. Other than that, there is really no story here, just a series of rambles and judgments on other people. I will rest my criticism of the form here, by saying that it needs a lot of work to become a good read, and go into the content.

Let us delve into what the book is actually trying to say, and begin by looking at the personality of Sarala. Sarala is, by her own admission, Antarmukhi (introvert). But I think calling her just antarmukhi is an insult to all introverts. Not all introverts are like her: cold, unfriendly, and disdainful of other women and their youthful desires for clothes, beauty, entertainment, socializing, flirting, romancing, marriage and children. She relishes in taking the moral high ground at every occasion, mostly by judging women who want to go to cinemas or hang out with me. The height of her moral high ground comes when her mama, who normally ignores her, one day starts fawning over her, and finally asks her for the money in her Sanchay Kosh. Malai Sanchay Kosh ko paisa ko kunai matlab chhaina, uslai chahinchha bhane lage bho, says Sarala as she turns her nose up at these plebeians who only want money. Let us remember that she is the same woman who cribs about not having money for the slightest luxury because she gives all her money to her maiju.

I used to be this person. The more and more I read this book, the more I recognized my adolescent personality. I used to wear outsize clothes because I did not want to be seen as someone who makes effort to be attractive – because beauty is supposed to be natural, no? And I used to shun makeup and judge those who used it, because, isn't it a symbol of oppression? That women are supposed to beautify themselves for the pleasure of men? I also thought that people who had plenty of relationships were bad people, when maybe I, as an unattractive teenager, was just jealous. And that moral high ground, of turning your nose up at money, how do I even get started there. We will get to it later.

Femininity as oppression

For now, let us examine how the leftist viewpoint is expressed in the novel. Parijat, who led a group of leftist artists then associated with the ML party, was known for her political leanings. I personally thought she was intersectional before the term was even invented: in particular I am thinking of a poem about a dalit woman and her economic struggles. This leftist thought influences many of her writings, sometimes to the point of compromising on art, I feel. In fact, I recently read a collection of her short stories and they read like essays on poverty, I would not read them for enjoyment. But that is a subjective judgment that another reader may not agree with. And there is also a case to be made for exactly such politically motivated works of art, which we still lack despite the efforts of Parijat and co. But I will put aside that wider discussion for now.

To go back to Antarmukhi, choosing a central character who is poor is already a leftist act. Sarala rails against her poverty, and the system which oppresses her and leaves her with nothing at the end of the month.

And then, Sarala also protests the patriarchal standards of femininity by refusing to be interested in makeup, clothes, or her looks in general. Indeed, leftists see these tokens of femininity as examples of oppression, and rightfully so. But then, Sarala deals with it not by owning her sexuality, but by stripping herself of her sexuality, an example of the long-held conflict between Marxism and Feminism. Let me elaborate my understanding of it.

Feminism and Marxism

When I read the communist manifesto, I felt that whatever Marx was saying about the proletariats applied even more to women. I have forgotten the details, but for now I remember how he analysed the control and ownership of production, and I felt that this describes women so accurately. The household labor that they expend, is owned by the male head of household.

Later, I found that I was not the only person who looked at the Communist Manifesto or the broader leftist thought in this way. There were others who called women the last proletariats, or the last colony, because they are so oppressed by patriarchy. But though women are similar to a class described by Marx, their revolution cannot be a class revolution, because they are not as united as a class, their loyalty goes first and foremost to their immediate families. Reminds me of a joke: nobody will ever win the war of the sexes, there is too much fraternizing with the enemy.

But I digress. Let us go back to the leftists and the feminists. Although women are born in the left because of the patriarchal structure, the leftist movements often fail to take women's issues into account. Let's take the recent case of Sarita Tiwari and Sangeet Shrota as an example. But, that is just an example. Bigger and wider examples are found in political movements like Nepal's Maoist movement, which, though it claimed to support gender equality, left women high and dry. Hence, even though the issues of the left resonate with women, feminism often end up having a tense relationship with Marxism.

Let us see how this tension plays out when it comes to women's sexuality, and how patriarchy trumps, always.

Patriarchal expectations of women

Let us begin by looking at what patriarchy expects of women, and what exactly feminists have to contend with. For this, I have picked one story that has bothered me again and again because of how problematic it is but how it is not seen as problematic.

The story begins with a beautiful prostitute called Kali. Yes, in the male imagination, the prostitute is always beautiful and powerful, no matter that the reality is completely opposite. Kali has taken a vow that she will serve only one man at a time. One day, a very disgusting man makes his way to her home. He is poor, covered in rags, and oozing pus from his wounds. But Kali takes him in. And then, a king with a large retinue arrives at her doorstep. He is grand, rich, and beautiful, and asks Kali to accept him. But, Kali rejects him. I have already promised to serve this man today, she tells him. And then the king reveals his true form, it is none other than Lord Shiva, who reveals that it had all been a test. Kali, by preferring a disgusting man over riches, has passed the test. She proves herself to be an honorable and pure woman, despite her profession of prostitution. Shiva blesses her with immortality in the form of a river: she becomes Kali Gandaki. It is only when Kali Gandaki joins Trishuli that it becomes holy and is known as Ganga, the holiest of rivers in Hinduism.

This story was told to me by someone. I recently came across another version of it in a collection by Tulasi Diwas. In this version, Kali is already famed because of how she treats her client like a husband, even if she is with him for just one night. Her fame reaches Mathura, where Krishna praises her. Unwilling to accept that a prostitute can be so virtuous, Balaram decides to test her. He reaches her hut in the guise of a poor old Brahmin. Naturally, Kali takes him in. She attempts to make him comfortable, but he seems unable to respond to her. Instead, he is struck by diarrhea, and kali ends up cleaning after him. He then gets sicker and sicker and dies in her bed. Kali then gets ready to go Sati for him, or be burned alive in the funeral pyre. The whole village starts praising her virtue. Finally, when she climbs the pyre with the Brahmin, Krishna appears and chastises Balaram: are you going to take her life just to test her? Balaram then relents, and accepts Kali's virtue. He turns into the Kali Gandaki river who eternally flows in purity.

On the surface this story doesn't seem misogynistic, I have heard people praise it as beautiful as pure and what not. However, when you think of whether there are any stories with a gender reversal, then you realise the weight of expectations that stories like these are putting on women. For example, can you think of any story where there is a male prostitute (first of all there are no male prostitutes in stories, this brings us to the stigmatizing of sexually promiscuous women in the first place)? So, can you think of any story where a promiscuous male is tested by a powerful woman…. Already this premise is laughable. How dare a woman test the character of a man? Ok, so, a story where a promiscuous male is tested by a powerful female, but then he proves that he is willing to serve, physically serve, a sick, unattractive, physically disgusting woman? And he thus proves how pure he is and the powerful woman gives him the pure/holy status? Can you think of any such story? No, I don't think so.

If such stories existed regardless of gender, then I would agree that the story of Trishuli is not misogynistic but is merely a beautiful story that prioritizes compassion. But as of now, that is not the case. Instead, this story fits into the classic Madonna-whore mold. Trishuli, though a prostitute (and thus very beautiful and promiscuous), is elevated to the status of pure and holy because she is submissive to patriarchal values. She has the heart to prioritise serving a man no matter how disgusting, or even die for him, over riches that could lead to a better life for herself.

The left's criticism of the patriarchal expectations

Naturally, Marxists and feminists both criticize this subscription to patriarchy. We women are not satisfied with how we are supposed to be beautiful, but, also offer that beauty up in service of patriarchy. No, we don't want to do this.

Do not offer your beauty up for the service of patriarchy, is what I would say. Do what you want, you don't have to prove your purity by serving undesirable men. Be pretty if you want to, flirt if you want, be with the man you want to, choose riches and comfort if you want to, and if you don't like the man, then choose another. Make the best decision for yourself.

But that is not the left wing's solution. Instead, the leftwing criticizes this patriarchal mores by rejecting patriarchal standards of beauty: for example by criticizing the expectations of makeup, jewelry, fashion, etc. Patriarchy imposes impossible beauty standards on women: expecting, for example, women to be pretty, have a certain face, always be smiling, etc. Patriarchy values beautiful women, and thus, makes women work harder for men's approval. Put on makeup, for example, or wear certain colors, or regularly visit the beauty parlour, or worry about greying hair and growing crow's feet. Yes, I agree, all of these are signs of oppression, and the left wing rejects them. Ergo Antarmukhi, who criticizes all of these in other women.

The Madonna-whore complex

And yet, when the feminists and the leftists criticize these women who make an effort to look attractive, they fall into the patriarchy's Madonna-whore trap.

The Madonna-whore is a classic complex where patriarchy divides women into two types - one kind of woman is supposed to be Madonna – holy and pure like the (an idealized version of) mother. The other is the whore – who is attractive and promiscuous.

Patriarchy favors the Madonna, obviously. A woman who has all the nurturing qualities of the mother, and is loyal to her man. The whore, on the other hand, is to be despised, and the root cause is nothing but that she doesn't serve the patriarchy by being loyal to one man, but is promiscuous.

Patriarchy wants its women to be Madonnas. But since patriarchy is confused and convoluted in itself, it wants its women to be Madonnas but look like whores. It wants the impossible beauty standards but wants the women to not make use of their beauty. As we saw in the example of the Trishuli story, every whore can become Madonna, as long as she serves the patriarchy.

In Antarmukhi, Sarala counters the patriarchy by rejecting the expectation to become the submissive whore. She will not be prettified. She will not be molded into a malleable doll by the patriarchy. All well and good. It is not surprising that Parijat, whose leftist leanings were well known, chose to criticize the women who want to submit to the patriarchy and the Madonna-whore complex that is mostly employed by conservatives in the right wing. In fact, it is their creation, because they want to mold subservient women.

But then, Sarala also judges other women who exercise their sexuality, for example her friend, and her cousin who elopes. (Is this a Nepali version of Pride and Prejudice? Only there is no Mr. Darcy here. Ok, please forgive this irrelevant aside.) By doing so, she is putting the other women in the "whore" category and herself in the Madonna category, which does nothing but further the Madonna-whore complex.

Why the Madonna-whore complex is dangerous and divisive

It took me many years and several heartbreaks to realise that this is toxic patriarchy at play. Patriarchy works by dividing women into two kinds and pitting them against each other.

However, dividing women into these two types is dangerous because there are no pure Madonnas or whores, we are all Madonnas and whores. In fact, by these standards we are all whores: anyone who makes effort to look attractive, anyone who enjoys socializing with more than one man, all these women qualify as whores, traditionally. Instead, Madonnas are supposed to be asexual, or at least, offer up their sexuality up in service of the patriarchy. Sarala takes it up to an extreme by denying it completely.

This value system, which is perpetuated through works of art like stories, songs, etc, fulfills many objectives. First of all, it tells women that their natural impulses of sexuality (here, I am taking a very broad meaning of sexuality so that it includes not just the act of intercourse but all behavior related to people you are attracted to, for example, enhancing your looks to become more attractive, socializing, the desire to be attractive and socialize, and you reaction to such impulses and desires in other people) are bad. This is a soft means of controlling women's sexuality and ensuring that they serve the interests of the patriarchy.

Secondly, it turns women against each other. Women internalize patriarchy's criticism of the whore, and criticize each other for whore-ish behavior, which could include anything from makeup, clothes, jewelry, and other appearance choices to choices of socializing. When taken to the extreme, as leftists do, this is dangerous because it first of all seeks to create a completely asexual Madonna, and secondly heightens the misogynistic condemnation of the whore.

Madonna-whore complex across the political spectrum

Patriarchy is prevalent across all sections of political leanings, be it left or right. The Madonna whore complex operates differently in the left and right. In the right wing, as we have seen, the women are sexual, but their sexuality subscribes to the patriarchal view – they are supposed to respond to male advances, and confine themselves to the one man, and accept his dominance. This viewpoint expects women to fit into the traditional mold of femininity: for the women to handle the household, take care of children, to be seen and not heard, and to generally "do their job," leaving the world outside to men. Naturally, this come with the traditional expectations of female beauty: women are expected to dress and look feminine. This is again related to behavior: women are expected to be coy, soft spoken, etc etc.

We can often see these viewpoints reflected in art: for example in art that praises women's beauty, singing paens about the shape of their eyes or the color of their lips. And I am being polite here, to summarize highly problematic objectification of women's bodies. These works of art often end by taming the whore-ish woman, whether through marriage or some other domination. We are all familiar with these stories, songs, and movies, perhaps no examples are needed. Insert: stories like taming of the Shrew and Pach bachane Ama ki Das Bachane Chhori. One could argue that (some of) these are beautiful as standalone pieces, like the Trishuli stories. But when you look at the entire corpus and see how this narrative dominates and how there are not enough women's narratives to challenge it, then you can begin to see how they create a certain worldview.

Naturally, the left criticizes this oppression of woman. But, the left's response is not to let the beautiful woman alone or to let her negotiate her own terms or to use her sexuality for her own benefit. It is to strip the woman of her sexuality. We can see how this plays out in works of art.

The leftist Madonna in literature

This character that Parijat has created, it is no without precedent in feminist literature. Literature was so rife with Madonnas, and there were so few models of women who did not want to look like whores or behave like Madonnas or both, that feminists were forced to create asexual heroines.

What I mean by that is, in traditional literature, there was only the Madonna and the whore. A good woman was a Madonna, who was beautiful and accepted patriarchal standards. But what if a woman did not want to be beautiful? What if a woman wanted to write, or draw, or paint? Or worse, what if a woman wanted to be beautiful and wanted to write, draw, or paint, or heal, or build or do anything but submit to the patriarchy? There were no such "good" women, these were all bad women. For patriarchy, the only "good" women were those who submitted to patriarchy.

But, what the patriarchy did not realise that not all good women wanted to be pretty Madonnas. Some women just want to do their own thing, and they were bursting with rebellion. These women, when they finally decided to write, decided to create women who do not submit the patriarchy. But, here is the problem, if a heroine cares about her look and wants to get married, she is a Madonna. And, the Madonna is undesirable because she is patriarchal, all she cares about is getting a husband, serving him, looking beautiful for him, and pleasing him. But, if the woman who wanted to look beautiful but not submit to the patriarchy, then the patriarchy could not understand such a woman, and branded them whores. Hence, a heroine who wanted to be her own person had to renounce the Madonna's motherliness and the whore's sexuality.

Ergo, the asexual woman who claims that caring for her looks is beneath her. The only way you could be your own person was by differentiating yourself from the Madonna and the whore. If you so much as put on a lipstick, you are a whore.

Some of these heroines are very spirited and lovable, like the cheerful and talented Jo March and the dreary and formidable but still attractive Jane Eyre. Both of these women are either asexual (Jo March, and here I am choosing to ignore the dreadful sequels written on public demand) or downplay their sexuality (Jane Eyre). Jo March cuts off her hair, her one vanity, and rejects the advances of her childhood friend so that she can focus on her writing. And Jane Eyre, a poor but educated woman, is determined to make her own way in the world through her own efforts.

Here I would like to add some personal admiration of these heroines, and how they influenced me to reject the patriarchy. I wanted to make my own way in the world, like Jane Eyre, so for that I thought I must reject my sexuality, like Jo March. But what about the natural, youthful inclination to be attractive and socialize with the opposite sex? I thought that would lead me down the Madonna path, and I tried to refrain from it, while also judging the women who indulged in these things. Ah, what a messed up teenager I was.

I still admire these heroines, and today I look at them from a different perspective. I see the pressure that these writers were under, to create a woman who wanted to explore the options that patriarchy denied her. Only a complete rejection of their place in patriarchy could allow for such a character, then.

But the world has changed now. A woman doesn't necessarily have to be asexual to make her way in the man's world. A woman can pursue everything she wants, today. Today, if a woman wants to look pretty but pursue her own things and delay her marriage, she can do so. If she wants to flirt and date several different people for a while or be promiscuous, she can do so. If she wants to do these things forever, she can do that too. And if she wants to negotiate a marriage along with her other pursuits, she can do so to. All these characters are beginning to be reflected in art as well.

The asexual Madonna in Nepali literature

But somewhere along the way, Nepali writers lost the plot. They lost the whole point of the asexual woman, which is rebellion against patriarchy but also an establishment of their own personalities. A case in point is Sarala who rebels but is so hopelessly lost that she is unable to make any sort of impression. Another example I am thinking of is Karagar, a much vaunted book. (Warning: spoilers ahead for Karagar).

When I read it first, I was unable to understand why it was so famous or praised for being feminist, since the ending sounded distinctly misogynist to me. The mistress of a married man, who forever rails against the constraints this relationship places on her, realizes in the end that her identity lies in the word rakhail. (Again, I admire Banira Giri very much. Her feminist take on The Blind man and the Elephant made quite an impression. It is one for the record books, aren't we still discussing, even in this essay, whether or not women are "just holes?"). Then it dawned on me that perhaps the book was praised as feminist and "bold" because it even attempted to talk about extra-marital affairs, which no respectable woman could do back then. But the more I go back to it, the more I realise that the reason I dislike the book is not the misogynist ending, but the dreary personality of the protagonist.

The protagonist is a single woman with a distinctly unpleasant personality. Just like the protagonist in Pahelo Gulaf, she feels constrained by her married lover, and makes unpleasant remarks about him. And I don't know why she accepts the relationship, because she seems to be a financially stable worldly wise woman who works in a hi-fi office and visits fancy cafes. There would have been very few women like her in the 70's. Still, it's understandable if she has complicated feelings towards her married lover. But then, she is uniformly disparaging of everyone in her life. Every One. Her daju and bhauju she dismisses as fake, people who don’t love her. And her best friend she writes away as "Rajdhani express" who does nothing but talk, talk, talk. Then why is she friends with that woman in the first place? This woman is so dreary that no one wants to be friends with her.

This self-negation, this self-rejection of your own sexuality and self-taming, this is the ideal woman of both leftists and rightists. This includes not just a taming of sexuality, but also of other sins like greed, etc, which Sarala displays by appearing indifferent to her Sanchay Kosh. This selfless woman, we thought we left it behind in the right wing, but no, she has followed us into the left.

The leftist condemnation of the whore

Actually, it is not just Nepali writers. The criticism of the whore was also very much a part of the earlier much admired leftist books like Little Women or Jane Eyre. I am thinking of that scene in Little Women where Meg goes to a party and agrees to be beautified by her hosts and is thoroughly enjoying herself when she comes across her old friend Laurie. She is so ashamed to be seen in her nakkali mode that she tells him not to say anything about it to her family back home (that she is behaving whorishly). Later, of course, she is tamed by marriage to a "good" man.

And let's also remember that Jane Eyre condemned her step daughter for being "coquettish," clearly setting the role model for a virtuous woman. Sure, a woman could attempt to make her own way in the world through her hard work and talent. But what if she wants to be pretty and enjoy her sexuality too? No, that was absolutely not allowed. This self-negation, this self-rejection of your own sexuality and self-taming, this is the ideal woman of both leftists and rightists. This includes not just a taming of sexuality, but also of other sins like greed, etc, which Sarala displays by appearing indifferent to her Sanchay Kosh. This selfless woman, we thought we left her behind in the right wing, but no, she has followed us into the left.

We see this leftist condemnation of beauty and sexuality in many other instances as well, some of which I agree with, some of which I don't, and some, which I think is missing the point. Let us take the Nepali feminists' push against the Miss Nepal pageant, for example. I agree that beauty competitions are patriarchal and oppressive, and that they exploit women's sexuality for commercial gain, and that they create impossible beauty standards which in turn create unrealistic expectations among men and great pressure on women to conform. I agree with all of that, and agree that beauty pageants SHOULD NOT HAPPPEN. The fact that I think we cannot start from "should" and must start from "what is" and look at the fact that women face the glass ceiling in almost every sector and that here is a sector opening up for them where they earn money, fame, and a ladder to other opportunities, and so there is a strong case for letting women exploit whatever opportunities capitalism gives them, that is a discussion for another essay. I will leave it here by saying that here I am totally with the feminists.

Yes, leftists are right to condemn the objectification of women's sexuality, which has continued unabated in all systems we know, from classical literature to modern capitalism. But then, the condemnation sometimes throws the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak, by erasing women's sexuality altogether. here I am thinking of a chat I had with a leftist woman leader that I personally admire for her intellect and clear thought. She spoke of how the current batch of songs, movies, etc objectified women, and instead praised a singer (I forgot his name), who sang songs about mothers and sisters. All well and good to sing about mothers and sisters, but that shouldn't completely erase romantic love, is my view.

However, in Nepal's left we often see many such asexual songs, which may speak even of male-female partnerships in secular terms. Songs by Ramesh, Rayan, for example, and their focus on class struggles. Nothing wrong with such songs or developing a larger repertoire of them with time, but here what the leftist woman leader was saying was that these kinds of songs should completely replace the romantic songs. No, she didn't say that, she said the songs that objectify women should not be sung. But, let's remember, that a vast majority of songs objectify women. Hence, if we remove those songs from the repertoire and replace them with songs that sing of mothers and sisters and their secular personalities (and of course we should sing such songs to try to counter objectification, but), then what of romance? What of romantic relationships? Will not the world be an arid place where romance, attraction takes second place behind all these sanitized feelings?

The universally condemned whore

We have just seen that patriarchy is prevalent across all sections of political leanings, be it left or right, and the Madonna whore complex is an example of it which pervades both these political spectrums. In the right we see a stereotyping of women into the traditional Madonna role, while in the left we see an attempt to take women out of the Madonna-whore spectrum by rejecting sexuality altogether.

The right wing's problems are well known enough. Now, let us summarise the left wing's problem. The left's problem is that while they try to get women out of the Madonna-whore complex, they end up creating an asexual woman, which is even more detrimental to women. The asexual woman is still a Madonna, who calls all other women whores.

In the left wing, the opposite of the asexual Madonna should have been the sexual whore, or the woman who is sexual but will not submit to patriarchy. Here Jyoti Magar comes to mind, a folk singer who was universally lambasted by all quarters for her bawdy lyrics and suggestive dance moves. She was expelled from Nepal's folk songs organization, and received so much criticism, bullying and heckling in every one of the interviews she gave. But she, unconcernedly, went about releasing even more songs and gaining more profit. To me, she is an example of the sexual whore (and here I am using the whore in the sense of reclaiming it, as many feminists have claimed words like slut, whore, etc. I am using it in admiration of her control of her sexuality.) Here is a woman who is using her sexuality for her own benefit, refusing to submit to patriarchy, and look what happens to her. No one speaks up for her and defends her freedom of speech. In contrast, many of these people would not have objected to the same songs or dance moves being a part of movies – where they are in control of male direction, storyline, and male gaze – an overall patriarchal scene.

So, by criticizing this kind of woman and idealizing the asexual Madonna, the left wing falls right into the patriarchy's Madonna-whore trap all over again. It creates an even smaller of coterie of ideal women: the asexual Madonnas, and lumps everyone else into whores.

Whether rightists or leftists, everyone unites to condemn the whore. But, let us remember, the whore is every woman. It is not an anomaly, it is not the heavily made up nymphomaniac that only exists in the male imagination. It is every woman.

Back to Antarmukhi and Parijat

Going back to Antarmukhi and Parijat, we see that the book is obviously influenced by Parijat's left leanings. Known for her leftist ideology, Parijat was part of artistic groups that included the revolutionary singers Raamesh and Raayan. This leftist ideology seeps through most of her works, so much so that a recent collection of stories I picked up read like a collection of essays about poor people. I would have said that this book is unaware of how it stereotypes women and confines them to the asexual Madonna box, except that Parijat has written a wide variety of books. Though her (perhaps deservingly) most famous work Shirish ko Phool is about a woman who rejects her sexuality, she has also written love stories and sex-positive works. Hence, this stereotyping of women is something I had not expected from Parijat. Now it makes me wonder, was it her way to bring these very questions of Madonna-whore complex into discussion?

Writing about Antarmukhi became an opportunity for me to meditate on the Madonna whore complex, for which I thank the book.