In the images and videos that went viral – at least in the ones that I saw – nobody around Rhythm Chanana was looking at her. She appears in those visual records to be in a ladies’ compartment, taking the Delhi Metro. Just another commuter, among others.

            Even though her fellow commuters seemed to be maintaining etiquette, minding their own business (at least in those captured moments), this particular commuter caught public attention because of her attire: a bralette and a miniskirt. Reports are mixed, with Chanana also saying that fake interviews with her are being published, but some sources say that she had been taking the Metro in similar outfits for months.

            In other words, if that was the case: she wore what she wanted, and went about her work and her life.

            Then someone decided to post about it. The identity of the “Metro Girl” was discovered quickly, and Rhythm Chanana became famous overnight.

            Let’s say that Chanana did set the whole thing up in order to go viral. She is studying acting, and presumably wants a break into cinema, and online attention could help with that. Even if she did – so what? A society that reacts to an ordinary person putting on whatever clothes they want to deserves to be conned into a harmless trick.

            Her fashion sense is completely harmless – to anyone else, that is. A large part of me responds to Chanana’s style with the awe that one experiences while watching a tightrope walker. I cannot deny that she chose to do something that I myself would regard as dangerous. That in my own perhaps-provocative apparel choices, I am often as keenly aware of how good I feel as I am of the risk of undesired attention or even aggression.

Dour netizens reprimanding the 19-year old that she will regret what she is wearing should take a good look into their mirrors and their closets – metaphorical ones especially. As for Chanana, I wish for her to look back with only joy at how free she dared to be.

The truth is that most people can’t imagine her sartorial choices on themselves, which is why they’re shocked to see them on another. For some, their thought process may get stuck at the level of conditioning: notions of decency, for example. But for many, it is the violence of the gaze that will follow that actually informs their apprehension or their astonishment. That has nothing to do with decorum or propriety. That has to do purely with the consequences of expressing oneself in cultures where self-expression threatens the dominant paradigm.

            There are consequences, usually. Which is why I don’t care right now whether Rhythm Chanana was seeking publicity. To have a woman get away with wearing clothes that she would usually be punished for, and indeed be rewarded (with a surge of Internet followers and visibility for a career in the public eye), is refreshing. Is it a sign of positive change? Probably not on a large scale – but here and there, in scatterings of small influence, I have no doubt that seeing someone be bravely authentic is making a difference. It always does.

An edited version appeared in The New Indian Express in April 2023. “The Venus Flytrap” appears in Chennai’s City Express supplement.