MFS | Entertainment

As if products offering fairness and freshness in your nether regions were not enough, it's now time to surgically tighten the area.

Visuals of a traditional, sari-clad woman singing, I feel like a virgin, have been doing the rounds on social networking sites. A commercial for a vaginal tightening gel, seems to signal the Indian woman's openness in talking about sex. Her sexuality is no longer codified in a wet sari. Sex and sexual pleasure for the woman seem to come at a price: a light and tight vagina. While the products have their fair share of detractors, it has sparked off a debate about Indian women and their uncomfortable relationship with their vaginas.
Why the need for such products?
Adman Harish Bijoor opines, "The Indian market is a democracy," adding, "These products have now entered the Indian market because the Indian consumer has fulfilled his/her basic necessities of food, shelter, etc., and can now fulfil his/her desires. These are niche products," he says.

Activist Jasmeen Patheja, believes that the gel, in particular, builds a market by selling the idea of virginity. "Vaginal tightening gels are not a 'need', but they are creating a market by playing on the notion of 'virginity'. It's playing with the taboo of not being a virgin, and glorifying virginity. The admakers are cashing in on this by manipulating the Indian middle class morals and then calling it 'empowerment'. It's clever, wrong and twisted." she says.
Women empowered?
The International Vagina Dialogue Survey conducted in 2009 reveals that 60% of the women worldwide think that their nether regions are ugly and disproportionate. No wonder, then, Rishi Bhatia, chairman and managing director of the pharmaceutical company that has launched the gel, was quoted as saying that the product can re-define the meaning of women's empowerment. Is that the case? "We don't need a product cashing in on the problematic notion of virginity sold in the name of women empowerment, and then calling her a sexually-liberated woman," says Jasmeen. "After all," asks a women's activist, on condition of anonymity, "Isn't the first sexual experience connected with pain?"
Any takers?
Stand-up comedian Rubi Chakravarti, who is flabbergasted at the thought of these cosmetic products, says, "Indian women are strong and they want to get on with their lives. I'm sure these products are the brainchild of a man." The reality is however, different: college girls repeatedly enquire about cosmetic products to beautify their lady bits. In fact, gynaecologist Kamini Rao says that women now use deos, peppermint sprays, and talcum powder for better oral sex. "What they don't often know is that talcum powder creates a condition known as talc granuloma, which is a tumour. Women should read the fine print and make sure these products don't contain phenols which can cause a number of problems in the region," she says, adding, "There are college girls who ask me if mouth sprays can be used down there."
Is it here to stay?
While visuals of sexual intimacy get telecast in these commercials, the subtext is glaring: women need to spruce up their private parts for sex, and the intimacy derived from it. Kamini reveals that women between the age-group of 20 and 25 are now going in for hymenoplasty: a surgery to stitch up one's hymen. But are these products here to stay? "It will create a controversy and a national debate and Indian women will distance themselves from it," says Harish.