My first understanding of the term 'Randi' was that of a woman who offers sex in exchange for payment in cash or kind. Even then, I knew and saw it was a profession, but indeed an infamous one. So every time I was called a 'Randi' for getting in close proximity with my male cousins, for not being careful enough of the depth of my top in front of my male home tutor, for knowingly showing cleavage, or for having multiple crushes/love interests at a time, I used to feel dirty. And since it came from my mother, I had no reason to doubt it.
I had also heard a neighbour referring to a Hijra with the same term in the past. Then I learnt that my cousin gets called a 'Randi' even when she makes normal, non-sexual, non-body-involving 'mistakes'. Meanwhile, equivalent terms like 'whore’, 'slut’ and 'prostitute' in Hindi/English movies were being employed to refer to women with multiple sexual partners. Even when I was reviewing the existing literature on this subject, sadly, not much was directly written on it, and all my google searches were perceived as pursuits of porn videos. ('Randi' is one of the most searched categories of Hindi porn videos). So what exactly does the term ‘Randi’ mean? Does it refer to any and all kinds of deviant people? Or does it have a connection with body and sexuality?
Derogatory Hindi Gaalis: What does Google search say about 'Randi'?
Since 'Randi' is a Hindi/Urdu term, the Urban Dictionary (a US-based crowdsourced online English language dictionary for slang words and phrases) defines it as the "Hindi translation of prostitute, also used sometimes to mean a girl who is very loose". It exemplifies the term with the sentence, "Forget it; she was a randi anyway!". The Rekhta dictionary (online Hindi/Urdu dictionary) explains the term in three points. Firstly, it is a 'gaali' (swear word) for a woman; wife (something a husband calls her wife in anger). Secondly, it is a woman who dances, sings and offers sex in exchange for money; a "bazaaru aurat" (woman of market value) who does "pesha" (occupation); a "vaishya" (prostitute); a "tawaif" (whore, a professional courtesan serving the nobility during the Mughals); a "nartaki/gaane vaali" (singer/ dancer/ performer). Thirdly, it refers to a "widow who does prostitution for a living ('Raand’)". The exact English translation of the word is "immoral woman". Tez Patrika lists the terms 'stree' and 'mahila' (both Hindi of a woman) as the hypernyms of 'Randi'.
Bollywood on 'Randi'
The lines between a prostitute/whore (sex for money), a slut (involving many casual sexual partners) and a 'Randi' (an all-encompassing Hindi swear word/word for women, polyamorous women, female hooker and whores) often gets blurred in colloquial language. Where Bollywood has not put them in a direct negative light, it certainly reflects the journey of women who enter this world, society's unrealistic standards for them, and their vulnerabilities and desire for respectability.
Some movies like Begam Jaan and Gangubai have shown prostitutes as exceptionally strong matriarchs who run a brothel of prostitutes abandoned by their own families. Others like Anaarkali of Aarah address the safety and 'consent' of sex workers.
Yet other shows, like the web series Pataal Lok, show the specific set of people who can be called a 'Randi' by anybody for no given reason. The trans suspect and prisoner, Mary Lyngdoh, was not a prostitute by profession but was constantly referred to as 'Randi' by policewomen in custody. In the movie Pink, the protagonist is slut-shamed while getting gang-raped with the term Randi.
Movies like Chori Chori Chupke Chupke (2001) and Devdas show sex workers with the realisation that their profession is incongruous with a conjugal life of love and respect. ("tawaifon ki takdeer mein shauhar nahin hote" – Paro, Devdas). Characters like Kuckoo (a trans prostitute) from Netflix’s Sacred Games also eventually learn that they are not “marriage materials” and they can only exist as a “side chick” in the male protagonist’s life while he respectfully stays married to a ‘good girl’ from a good family. The prostitute character Saeeda Bai in Vikram Seth's A Suitable Boy has to resent the love of her life, for it comes at the cost of her livelihood. She cannot be loved and be in her profession simultaneously.
Analysis of terms(s), proverbs and movies
'Randi' and its equivalents are universally understood as a 'gaali', a derogatory term, a cuss word that is to be pronounced in a low voice and only in front of a select audience. The term emits immorality. It robs off the respect of people who even say it out loud.
The terminologies used to explain the meaning of 'Randi' in online dictionaries, and the Bollywood references reinstate some deeply problematic cultural notions about women. How can having an occupation/business be malign?
A singer/dancer/performer/entertainer is also a randi, thus terminating the bond of the term with sex and sexuality. Maybe it has to do with women who have interactions and transactions with the public realm of life on an everyday basis. Further down, there are also references to a ‘widow' (since she no longer has a husband to guard and legitimise her sexuality and desires) or 'a wife' (from time to time, whenever her husband/in-laws are frustrated). So, the personal is political. Radical feminists prove their point. Maybe then every vagina owner is a Randi, as they all get called out as one: a rape victim while being raped, a prostitute, an entertainer, a surrogate, a normal woman while being eve-teased, the lover of a married man, a normal wife when the husband is frustrated, a woman in the sexual fantasies of regular people, female porn stars, or just an extrovert woman. The English language finds its closest match in the term "immoral woman". Morality, a subjective trait with innumerable aspects, very conveniently comes down to just one point. Or, in most cases, to no point at all, just unadulterated entitlement.
Some existing works suggest that women should use the "male equivalent" of misogynist terms for men. Many abusive expressions have already become unisex/gender-neutral in usage, like ‘bitch’ and ‘shit’. But this reductionist approach certainly does not help in erasing or amending the sexist history of cuss words. Neutrality or a reversal, which is practically nearly impossible to achieve, cannot be advocated. The questions worth thinking about are: If different societies in the world developed and evolved differently, then how are our cuss words so similar? Why are they all female-centric? What makes the 'bad words' bad?
The concept of 'Randi' has certainly evolved in the history of the Hindi language discourse. I consider myself a living testimony of this fact. I have been called one innumerable times; on the streets by random men and within the household by my female guardian figures. My younger self has evolved from feeling devastated by the experience to being unaffected by being called one. It reflects nothing about the person it is directed at. We are all Randis, trading different functions of our body to the world for survival.
Views expressed by author are their own.
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Shrinkhala Lal is a 21-year-old final year Master's student of Women's Studies at Tata Institute of Social Science, Mumbai.