There is an area in the centre of Mysore with hundreds of jewellery shops one next to another. The question
is: how many same product selling shops can there be in one single area,
all on a row and one behind the other? Even one top of each other? A
friend's family owns one of those shops and one evening I sat in his
shop for about two hours (more than enough time for impulse purchases). I
was drinking chai, looking at the jewelleries and watching the crowd
passing by. Maybe it was the excess time, or the beautiful golden nose
studs in the showcase. A nose piercing happened.
The sensation of the new nose stud took me for a little journey down the memory lane. It was the early nineties, at a heavy music festival somewhere in Finland. I was fourteen. I was having angina and a fever but that did not stop me from rocking. (That is the beauty of youth. Nothing, I mean nothing, can stop you, except maybe mother sometimes). I was there with my best friend Mari. Mom was waiting in the hotel and Sepultura was playing. I went to a little stand that sold fake jewellery and got my nose pierced with a little golden colour stud. Now sitting in the Indian jewellery shop the surrounding was just as inspiring as the festival scene for a fourteen year old.
In India, nose piercing has been a sign of marriage and a way to honor Parvati, the goddess of marriage. It seems that the decorational value has taken over as you can see females of all ages wearing one. In ayurveda, the nerves leading from the left nostril are associated with female reproductive organs and therefore, it is seen that piercing on the left nostril would decrease the pain during periods, and even make giving birth easier. Thinking of the early nineties Finland, a nosering was definitely more a sign of a rebellion than of a tradition. Forget about the questions of health.
As a western woman living in India, I often observe the beautiful dresses of the local ladies. While most of the mature Mysorean ladies still wear a saree on a daily basis, the young generation has found the western garments. You can actually buy micro shorts from the local stores, but hardly anyone dares to wear them on the street. Bare legs are something you would see on tv or perhaps in big cities, not so likely on your home street.
As I keep changing from jeans and a t-shirt to a salwar kameez and back, I am moving back and forth from familiar to new. But which is new for me is just normal for the locals. I see the young Indian sisters doing through a similar process. They also have moved towards new finding the jeans and more. The paths of discovery cross at some point.
Recently I got a sudden feeling for a saree. A feeling that I don't know how to describe. Admiration? Mild desire? It was the day of Guru Purnima, the day to celebrate gurus and teachers. I am currently participating a course in KPJAYI (K Pattabhi Jois Ashtanga Yoga Institute), and in the institute we had a celebration as well. What to wear was the question for the ladies, as it so often is. For my surprise, many western gals were wearing a saree and carrying it with grace. They were looking stunning, many of them tall and standing out. When I saw those ladies I kind of wished I was wearing one myself. It felt a little funny. Every day I see plenty of local women carrying their sarees like only the pros can. No need for me to try the same. But seeing other western girls wearing one made me think that yes, I could do that as well!
I know some Indian ladies who claim to have never, ever in their adult lives been wearing anything else than a saree. The saree represents the tradition, the traditional values and propably many things that I am not aware of at this point. I recently spoke to an Indian lady in her late fourties or early fifties who told me that wearing a saree is compulsatory on her job as a school teacher. When she comes home from work the first thing she does is taking off the saree and changing to a more casual, comfortable dress. Inside her house I see her super casual, just wearing a relatively short dress with no trousers underneath, just like my mum does at home. This same lady keeps saying nice things about my ordinary t-shirts and dreams of wearing "shorts" - capri length pants - in the park. But she never does. When she leaves the house she wears a more decent, a more Indian outfit. Without exception. Otherwise people would talk, she says. But after all, there are places where she can and she will wear her shorts. Home and Bangalore.
As I was sitting in the house of that Indian lady, and she was wearing the shorts and I was wearing the nose ring, we had both traveled a little abroad. When she noticed my nose piercing she suggestied me also to wear a saree and a bindi. Just sometimes, she added. Yep, that could be done at home on in Bangalore. Or even better, we could have a private costume party where she could wear her shorts with a plain, western t-shirt and I would wear a saree with the bindi and all. That would be so awesome and weird!
The sensation of the new nose stud took me for a little journey down the memory lane. It was the early nineties, at a heavy music festival somewhere in Finland. I was fourteen. I was having angina and a fever but that did not stop me from rocking. (That is the beauty of youth. Nothing, I mean nothing, can stop you, except maybe mother sometimes). I was there with my best friend Mari. Mom was waiting in the hotel and Sepultura was playing. I went to a little stand that sold fake jewellery and got my nose pierced with a little golden colour stud. Now sitting in the Indian jewellery shop the surrounding was just as inspiring as the festival scene for a fourteen year old.
In India, nose piercing has been a sign of marriage and a way to honor Parvati, the goddess of marriage. It seems that the decorational value has taken over as you can see females of all ages wearing one. In ayurveda, the nerves leading from the left nostril are associated with female reproductive organs and therefore, it is seen that piercing on the left nostril would decrease the pain during periods, and even make giving birth easier. Thinking of the early nineties Finland, a nosering was definitely more a sign of a rebellion than of a tradition. Forget about the questions of health.
As a western woman living in India, I often observe the beautiful dresses of the local ladies. While most of the mature Mysorean ladies still wear a saree on a daily basis, the young generation has found the western garments. You can actually buy micro shorts from the local stores, but hardly anyone dares to wear them on the street. Bare legs are something you would see on tv or perhaps in big cities, not so likely on your home street.
As I keep changing from jeans and a t-shirt to a salwar kameez and back, I am moving back and forth from familiar to new. But which is new for me is just normal for the locals. I see the young Indian sisters doing through a similar process. They also have moved towards new finding the jeans and more. The paths of discovery cross at some point.
Recently I got a sudden feeling for a saree. A feeling that I don't know how to describe. Admiration? Mild desire? It was the day of Guru Purnima, the day to celebrate gurus and teachers. I am currently participating a course in KPJAYI (K Pattabhi Jois Ashtanga Yoga Institute), and in the institute we had a celebration as well. What to wear was the question for the ladies, as it so often is. For my surprise, many western gals were wearing a saree and carrying it with grace. They were looking stunning, many of them tall and standing out. When I saw those ladies I kind of wished I was wearing one myself. It felt a little funny. Every day I see plenty of local women carrying their sarees like only the pros can. No need for me to try the same. But seeing other western girls wearing one made me think that yes, I could do that as well!
I know some Indian ladies who claim to have never, ever in their adult lives been wearing anything else than a saree. The saree represents the tradition, the traditional values and propably many things that I am not aware of at this point. I recently spoke to an Indian lady in her late fourties or early fifties who told me that wearing a saree is compulsatory on her job as a school teacher. When she comes home from work the first thing she does is taking off the saree and changing to a more casual, comfortable dress. Inside her house I see her super casual, just wearing a relatively short dress with no trousers underneath, just like my mum does at home. This same lady keeps saying nice things about my ordinary t-shirts and dreams of wearing "shorts" - capri length pants - in the park. But she never does. When she leaves the house she wears a more decent, a more Indian outfit. Without exception. Otherwise people would talk, she says. But after all, there are places where she can and she will wear her shorts. Home and Bangalore.
As I was sitting in the house of that Indian lady, and she was wearing the shorts and I was wearing the nose ring, we had both traveled a little abroad. When she noticed my nose piercing she suggestied me also to wear a saree and a bindi. Just sometimes, she added. Yep, that could be done at home on in Bangalore. Or even better, we could have a private costume party where she could wear her shorts with a plain, western t-shirt and I would wear a saree with the bindi and all. That would be so awesome and weird!
