To,
The torn pages of History
That history has pushed women to the margins of its narrative is no surprise to anyone, but some- The Tawaifs (of the north), Devadasis (of the south), Baijis (of Bengal), Naikins (of Goa) and infamous ‘Nautch Girls’ of the British era, did not even get a place in these margins. Pushed out of the pages entirely, their contribution scrubbed off of history textbooks, was molded into a shape so fundamentally different, it was barely identifiable with the original tradition. The opulent Indian courtesans inhabiting the palatial spheres of the elite with art forms of great finesse were now transported to the streets of prostitution.
Here I attempt to place together a loose narrative of evolution of Tawaif culture from these very torn off pages, edited out by censors of ‘patriarchy’ and ‘moral police’; while simultaneously drawing parallels with its depiction in Hindi movies. For Cinema has been a mirror of Tawaif culture, not only reflecting but also shaping its self perception from the image so formed. The purpose, thus, of weaving these cinematic strands into the narrative is to facilitate a more comprehensible glimpse into the temporal evolution of the courtesan heritage. To shine some light, however dim, on the tradition.
Disclaimer- The following content is not based on any firsthand research, thus I take no guarantee to verify its credibility. This article is only a light reading for those interested to know more about the subject in a broad and introductory manner. Additionally the movies I have attempted to connect to the narratives might be problematic with various issues of historical accuracy or even of presentations of the Tawaif culture. Also Hindi cinema has major gaps in the chronology which I had to fill in theoretically.
‘Tawaif’: Not A Term of Derision
Today the term is used interchangeable with the word ‘prostitute’, but “To relate Tawaifs to prostitution is an extremely corrupt portrayal of the institution (Veena Oldenberg)." Etymologically the word comes from the term ‘tauf’ which means ‘to go round and round’; the root word for ‘Tawwaf’ as well, referring to ‘the circumambulation of the holy Kabba’. Tawaif is actually an Awadhi term for courtesans- highly skilled musicians, singers, dancers and authorities on all that was considered ‘good taste and high fashion’. Catering only to the wealthy ‘upper-class’ clients, they were the apex of entertainment industry hierarchy. However the patriarchal notion of our society soon relegated these socially, financially and sexually independent women to markets of flesh trade.
Courtesans, Northern India, 19th century, Company painting
Devdasis: Before the Advent of the Term
Though the term ‘Tawaif’ is fairly recent, the culture it refers to is not. Much before the term came in popular use, derogatorily or otherwise, there were references to ‘Devdasis’. Literally, ‘the servants of the god’, they were meant to serve and worship the residing deity of the temple for the entirety of their life. Since dance and music comprised essential part of temple worship, they along with being the caretakers of the temple were also repositories of different art forms. Masters of Bharatnatyam, Kuchipudi and Odissi, devadasis were highly ranked in society and awarded (land, property and jewelry) by royal patrons, for their role. A more direct reference is found in the 3rd century BCE economic treatise ‘Arthashastra’ in terms of ‘Ganika’ or prostitutes on whom tax was imposed hinting not only at the legality of their profession but also at their economic prosperity.
The earliest known mention of an individual ‘devadasi’ is of ‘Amrapali’- a ‘Nagarvadhu’ or ‘royal courtesan’- a title which women competed for. Respected like a queen or even a goddess, she represented the epitome of the performing arts hierarchy, as seen in the movie adaptation by the same name.
Amrapali (1966)
Set in c. 500 BCE, ‘Amrapali’ is a love story of a king and a ‘nagarvadhu’ with a tragic series of complications forming the basis of the plot. Notably though, these complexities do not arise out of their class difference but rather due to them belonging to two rival empires. The ‘class difference’ trope conspicuous by its absence is the most candid evidence there could be in favour of Nagarvadhu’s respected status in society. Further proved by the fact that the position is one for which Amrapali has to compete for. A clear depiction of the same is in the scene where after being awarded the title, Amrapali rides a carriage across the empire and the populace receives her by showering rose petals in her honour. Apart from the prestige of the position, Vyjayanthimala, as the decked up Amrapali in the beautifully choreographed song Neel gagan ki chhao mein demonstrates mastery over dance forms performed in rich apparel.
Mughal patronage: A Zenith achieved
The rising sun of the courtesan culture flourished throughout antiquity but within it, tradition of Tawaifs achieved its full height in 16th-17th century India, under Mughal patronage- indeed a ‘golden age’ for Tawaifs. Girls were trained into this hereditary profession through a traditional education in music, dance and tahzeeb, from a young age of 5-7 years and by the time they were 10-12 they would accompany older girls to gatherings, where they would eventually attach themselves to some rich patron. This relationship was not necessarily of a sexual nature, as portrayed by later British historiography, but even if the relationship of the nature was such, hint is towards a consensual relationship.
As their continued proficiency in both music and dance made them center of art and culture, their influence became visible in everything from sevaiyan served at feasts to new fashion trends- ‘Anarkali’, a gown like dress with a full skirt, is said to be named after the famous courtesan ‘Anarkali’; its silhouette perfect for the graceful whirls of a dancer. Their role didn’t limit to pioneering cultural and stylistic trends but also extended to conveying them. Much like geishas of Japan, they were authorities on etiquette and finesse, to whom noble families would send their children for education in Tahzeeb and Aadab. Economically, too they lived in comfort and luxury; enjoying not only wealth but also power, prestige and political access, so much so that they were symbol of status and wealth by themselves and even by association.
However, the sun has to eventually descend after reaching the zenith, and so did the rich heritage of Tawaifs. As the attacks of Nadir Shah and Ahmed Shah Abdali began on Delhi, Mughal Empire unfolded in shambles taking along with it the royal patronage that sustained the high class lifestyle of these courtesans. Many women whose profession had been singing and dancing now had to live by selling their ‘virtue’.
Mughal-e-Azam (1960)
Being one of the most prosperous stages in the dynamic Tawaif tradition, one might expect several cinematic adaptations; sadly that is not the case. Perhaps the prosperity of this era could not coalesce with the pale perceptions imposed by our contemporary understanding. As such movies like Mughal-e-Azam fall short in not just historical accuracy but also in honestly representing the tradition. From the over-romanticization to the inferior and the frail financial and social situation, everything is a dull shadow of the actual courtesans enriching the Mughal courts. Even so the style of dancing and music (the song mohe panghat pe inspired from a kotha gazal) as well as the costumes give certain glimpses into the era.
Nautch Girl vs British Memsahib: Advent of colonial powers
Even with the declining Mughal patronage some areas like Lucknow managed to sustain the culturally rich lifestyle under the local nawabs and, as highlighted by Oldenburg’s study, in Lucknow, Tawaifs continued to comprise the “highest tax brackets with the largest individual incomes of any in the city.” However, the arrival of colonial powers rang the death knell for this dynamic tradition, damaging not only their socio-economic condition but also undermining them in their own history. Where on one hand, British political domination ended the nawabi patronage, on the other Christian missionaries brought the ideas of Victorian chastity in names of modernity.
Initially when British men arrived in India, sans females, they sought Indian ‘nautch girls’ (from the word ‘naach’ or dance for ‘dancing girls’) to chase away their ‘loneliness’. This led to an intermixing and indigenization that was worrisome to both the missionaries and the colonial officials. So much so, that they ‘imported’ European women to work in British-only-brothels in India to discourage this ‘mix’. The situation only worsened as British females arrived to accompany their husbands only to find them in the arms of these ‘bazaar girls’, fathering children in ‘every part of the city’. Missionaries, cashing on this idea, presented the British wives as the ideal woman while crystallizing courtesans as her antithesis – everything she was not supposed to be. They pitted the ‘angelic homemaker’ against the ‘wanton home-wrecker’.
Tawaifs had been symbols of not only women independence but also sexual freedom- a radical fluidity not fathomable to Victorian moralists. Thus, domesticity was imposed upon them through ‘anti-nautch campaigns’ to curb financial and social self-reliance of these empowered women. Simultaneously, a more aggressive approach was taken through laws like Contagious Diseases Act of 1864 which clubbed the courtesans with sex workers and granted the local municipalities the right to relocate them. Not only were they forcibly evicted but were also subjected to physical examination.
Such was the final nail of colonial powers in the coffin of Tawaif culture which first relegated them to prostitution and eventually deprived them even of that- robbing their rich socio-cultural status, humbling them financially, and demeaning and debasing them physically.
Umrao Jaan (1981)
Arguably the most popular movie of the genre, Umrao Jaan set in 1840-50s Lucknow, is the story of a young girl kidnapped and sold to a brothel where she is trained to be a courtesan.
Though problematic in the sense that it shows the courtesan culture as something one is forced into, the movie is otherwise a Hindi cinema classic, from the soulful music and dance performances in dil cheez kya hai and ye kya jagah hai doston to Rekha’s graceful depiction of the character as she whirls in rich anarkalis. Admittedly, the developments under the British is not the central plot, but set against that backdrop it portrays the debasement in a more subtle manner. Though a more upfront depiction is presented when Jaan returns to her brothel to find it deserted and looted by colonial forces.
As rebels of 1857
The British suppression however, did not manifest across spaces in the same temporal frame, but rather crept more gradually and differentially that it escaped contemporary notice. One exception to this was during the first war of independence where the force of the clampdown was immediate.
Tawaifs had played an active role in the revolt of 1857, providing financial support and acting as spies, while their kothas became hideouts for rebels. Yet more direct approach is presented by the mentions of Azeezunbai, a Kanpur courtesan, being intimate with the men of second cavalry as she rode with soldiers on horseback dressed in male attire armed with pistols. Their ‘involvement in the revolt’ served as an appropriate excuse to curb their basic property and human rights. It started off with economic crackdown, attested by the archival lists recording the ownership of land and property confiscated and a list of war spoils seized including luxuries of gold and silver, ornaments and cutlery, cashmere shawls and brocade sarees. From this Oldenberg draws a parallel between their degrading status and the literal tearing down of their kothas.
Soon this escalated to physical degradation of the basest kind as the ‘most attractive’ of them were forced into British garrisons to ‘service’ the troops there. And so those that had somehow escaped the moral goading and economic coercion, of Christian missionaries and officials, were now shoved in flesh trade- completing the transformation from Tawaifs to bazaar girls. Sadly and unsurprisingly, this is the most obscure phase of Tawaif history which finds no depiction in cinema as well.
‘Reforms’ of the nationalists: Saving 'Bhadra Mahila'
Just as the Christian missionaries were popularizing the idea of ‘chaste ideal lady’, so were the nationalists formulating the ‘modest pativrata wife’, who though poles apart from the western memsahib, also encapsulated everything a Tawaif was not. And as social reformers came forward and took charge of ‘uplifting’ the women from the margins, Tawaifs never made it out; hypocrisy of ‘inclusive’ and ‘reformist’ ideas leaving them on the sidelines, to the mercy of the streets.
From constantly labelling the women as prostitutes to opposing their participation in temple celebrations, nationalist reformers mobilized the public opinion against the inclusion of courtesans in the public realm. Even the few that did assimilate them did so whilst ‘moralizing’ and ‘saving’. For instance, when a group of Tawaifs, wishing to financially contribute to the national movement approached Gandhi, they were welcomed by him conditioned they leave the ‘life of shame behind’ and accept the honest work of spinning charkha. If not, then ‘bhadra mahila’ could not be permitted to donate.
Despite such moral policing and resultant social alienation, they did not shy away from contributing to the freedom struggle. Some, like Gauhar Jaan, contributed financially while others spread awareness through performances, like Vidyadhar bai’s ‘chun chun ke phool le lo’.
Pakeezah (1972)
“Poetry, fantasy and nostalgia rolled into one”- Derek Malcom; Pakeezah is set in the backdrop of Lucknowi Tawaif culture during late 1890s. The plight of a Tawaif battling her emotions against society’s perception and role assigned for her, reflected in Meena Kumari’s ever so expressive eyes, forms the central plot of the movie. And while the movie has its fair share of moments directly conveying the social scorn directed at Tawaifs, its true ingenuity lies in the more subtle and symbolic representations that forms its essence- from the lyrically meaningful songs to the very name ‘Pakeezah’ bestowed upon the protagonist. Regardless of authenticity of the representations, the mood of the film perfectly translates the aforementioned ideas.
On the Move: To the Margins
The partition of India and Pakistan in 1947 marks one of the largest and most violent displacement crises in history with more than 10 million people forced out of their homes. In such a volatile atmosphere, it is but natural that the already vulnerable section of society suffers the most and none more so than these Tawaifs. Even after the crisis was dealt with and rehabilitation made significant headway, it was only another opportunity for society to push them to the curb. While Begum Jaan deals with the literal aspect of it during the partition violence, Mandi discusses a more gradual push to the sidelines with symbolic undertones highlighting their social alienation too, as they were pushed to the suburbs both literally and metaphorically.
Begum Jaan (2017)
Set in 1948, the movie is a Hindi remake of the critically acclaimed Bengali film Rajkahini. Situated in the backdrop of drawing up of Radcliff line partitioning India and Pakistan, Begum Jaan centers around a brothel lying in the dab middle of partition, literally, as the line demarcates its one half in India and another in Pakistan. The plot centers on the eleven prostitutes led by the brothel madam Begum Jaan, who refuse to part with their home. Though, the narrative deals less with the horror of the divided and more with the spiritedness of the titular character, layers of coercion do manifest as law agencies attempt to repeatedly dislodge them by whatever means necessary, showcasing various shapes and forms of patriarchy as men from all walks of life treat women as commodities.
Mandi (1983)
Literally meaning ‘marketplace’, depicts a less violent but just as alienating displacement of a madam’s brothel from the heartland of Hyderabad to a deserted suburb. An assemblage of stellar cast and an organic plot and depiction, makes the film truly ingenious as it highlight the more subtle tones of expulsion from society and societal acceptance by linking it through physical displacement of the brothel. The movie is also commendable for the underlying tones of social satire upon the ‘morality police’ and ‘development’ which these prostitutes are subjected to by the ‘social workers’ and ‘women-rights espousers’. It is also loyal to the depiction of the Tawaif background of these prostitutes, as Shaban Azmi the madam of the brothel continually reiterates while allowing her girls to practice dance or singing, rather than just ‘entertaining’ the customers. Overall, the movie is an excellent example of dark comedy done right as it presents the gritty ideals of the society while simultaneously refuting them ironically; for instance the brothel is pushed out to a deserted suburb from the main city to make room for ‘development’, but it is actually the installation of this very brothel that leads to the prosperity of the new region.
Onto the Big Screen and Into the Red Light
Some did manage to escape the displacement to the ‘streets’ and, those who did, got welcome respite in the Film industry. Some were lured by gramophone industry others to Parsi theatre and yet others moved to Bombay to ‘Bollywood’. The first women to act in Indian movies in female roles were Tawaifs. Not just in acting they were successful as writers, directors and producers too. Jaddanbai set up her own production house called ‘Sangeet Movietone’ while Fatma Begum became the first women to direct a Bollywood film. However, soon enough these doors were also closed to them, literally, as playback singers were asked to use back entrances at radio stations. Slowly their contributions were erased as cinema moved to portray courtesans as stock characters with lives intertwined in a morality tale.
Others were not even this fortunate as the displacement placed them directly onto the red light zones of the cities where they are forced to barter their bodies. These red light zones, today, are the only homes available to most Tawaifs, as also the new hubs ‘attracting’ helpless and desperate women to this hated profession, sometimes by brute force other times by force of their circumstances.
Chameli (2003)
Life in these red light zones is depicted in the movie Chameli, portrayed through its titular character Chameli, a woman born into the tradition of prostitution and not pushed into it. However, the movie depicts how this does not reduce from the tragedy of the situation; this is highlighted not by the tragedy of her circumstances but by exact opposite as she keeps a lighthearted, optimistic attitude despite the grimness of her situation. Done in a quite different narration style, the movie is loyal to certain extent to the current situation of these women, their exploitation at the hands of any male that can lay hands on them without any hope of protection from the legal or police system. The movie also subtly introduces the idea of STDs, specifically AIDS.
Laaga Chunri Mai Daag (2007)
Takes a slightly different perspective as it shows a young woman being pushed into the practice by the sobriety of her situation. The movie perfectly depicts the social ostracism that comes with the reputation, including by her family. It shows that even as some of these women manage to financially support themselves, the degradation to their reputation in the society’s eyes, is in direct contrast to their ancestral Tawaif heritage. The movie also highlights that at a basic level how the exploitation does not differ irrespective of the prostitute catering to ‘high class clients’ or inhabiting the red light districts.
City of dreams…and Bar Girls
As the patronage changed from nawabs and rajas to business communities and rural-urban gentry the art form was modified to cater to the need of the new customers. Performances became more dance than song. Masters in kathak, dadra, ghazal and thumri they were now reduced to dancing to double meaning Bollywood vulgarity. Though in name the evolution from Tawaifs to Mujrewalis to bar dancers and ‘item’ girls, seems marginally better than the street markets trading flesh; in practice only a thin line exists between bar dancers and sex workers, often the precariousness of their existence pushing them to latter.
Chandni Bar (2001)
One of the movies to best portray such a transition was Chandni Bar. Story of a displaced young girl, Tabu, forced to become a dancer at a beer-bar in Mumbai; the movie follows her journey from being introduced into the profession ‘temporarily’ as a young girl yet hopeful of quitting, to her exploitation by men of her own family, a brief respite and eventual re-submergence into pit of hopelessness, one that would prove to be hereditary. Amidst bubbly laughter and encouragements of the changing room, the movie perfectly portrays the seedy atmosphere of their workplace in all its realism, in contrast with other portrayals glamorous in their tragedy. Far from the ‘rescue-ist’ attitude of several other depictions this movie demonstrates that there is not always light at the end of every tunnel.
What then is a solution to such exploitation, banning female dancers from performing in bars, as Maharashtra government did in 2005 rendering more than 70,000 women jobless overnight? Shaming them into leaving their professions as generations of reformists have attempted? Measures that do not address the causes of the problem but rather opens them up to further vulnerability in absence of legal provisions of protection (a concept commendably explored in Talaash).
The instruments of protection of fundamental rights accorded to each individual, the courts and police, become not only inaccessible to these women but rather an extension in their exploitation. For instance, prostitution is not a criminal offense in India (but ‘pimping’ or running a brothel is) still it is held over their heads as a threat by the actual exploiters of the system. The need then is not only to protect them but to recognize their contributions not just repositories of art and culture but as independent women in their own right who were the first of the feminists questioning the logic behind domestication of women and marriage, opening the path for females of generations to come.
It is high time that we return this favour and respect owed to them!