Dance Floors and Double Standards: The Troubling Truth of Bollywood Item Songs

Fatima Zohra
Published
Item songs have been a staple of Bollywood since the 1970s but have only recently been recognised as a distinct genre. Despite their popularity, they face criticism for their sensual choreography and hypersexualized portrayal of women, often depicted in revealing attire. Songs like Choli Ke Peeche Kya Hai (1993), Munni Badnaam Hui (2010), and Pinky Hai Paise Walon Ki (2013) exemplify this trend, framing female bodies as spectacles that reinforce unrealistic ideals and harmful stereotypes. While Bollywood claims to empower women by promoting freedom of choice, it often pressures women to conform to westernised revealing clothing to secure roles and appear "modern," marginalising those who choose modest fashion. This contradicts its stance on empowerment.
Indian cinema, with Bollywood at its forefront, has historically functioned as a potent cultural apparatus, exerting considerable influence in shaping societal norms, values, and perceptual frameworks. Within its multifaceted repertoire, "item songs" have crystallised as a particularly salient yet contentious element.
Although item songs have been an integral component of Bollywood's cinematic lexicon since at least the 1970s, they have only recently been codified as a distinct musical genre within mainstream Indian cinema. Despite their widespread popularity and mass appeal, these songs have been subjected to rigorous critique, particularly by film scholars aligned with the Radical Feminist School, for their overtly sensual choreography and the hyper-glamorised, hypersexualized depiction of scantily clad female bodies.
If we look at songs like Choli Ke Peeche Kya Hai (Khalnayak, 1993), Sheila ki Jawani (Tees Maar Khan, 2010), and Fevicol se (Dabangg, 2010), we find that the framing and representation of the female body in these songs serve to perpetuate and reinforce harmful societal stereotypes and preconceived notions. These representations propagate unattainable ideals and desires centred around an artificially constructed "ideal," which is not only unrealistic but also deeply problematic in its implications for gender dynamics and societal expectations. This analysis makes an effort to dissect the notion of the "feminine" that these hit songs are weaving, with the goal of proving that feminism is a concept that is still relevant today and that its importance is only increasing.
For an extended temporal framework, the female body has occupied a central locus within the discursive constructs of Bollywood. However, this centrality is inextricably intertwined with the multifaceted layers of discomfort engendered by patriarchal ideologies, which coexist with and permeate the representation of the feminine corporeal form. A critical analysis of the choreographic and cinematographic elements in songs such as Munni Badnaam Hui and Zara Zara Touch Me reveals a pervasive narrative where the female body is depicted as lacking autonomous agency, instead being portrayed as moving in sexually suggestive, rhythmic patterns that align with patriarchal fantasies.
Furthermore, the performative dynamics within these songs often suggest that the female subject derives pleasure from acts of physical dominance, such as slapping, wrist-twisting, forceful pulling, and attempts at groping, all of which are executed with an authoritative and coercive demeanor by male counterparts. At this juncture, the female body is effectively reduced to a mere puppet, stripped of agency and subjected to the voyeuristic gaze of both the on-screen male characters and the off-screen spectators, thereby reinforcing its objectification within the patriarchal framework. Laura Mulvey notes that women are stereotyped as being looked at and presented at the same time in their traditional exhibitionist position. This is because their appearance is designed to have a powerful visual and sensual impact, making them symbolic of being gazed at. Ideal characteristics for the audience are the unreachable small waist, fair complexion, flawless features, and glossy skin free of any flaw.
A number of philosophers and literary critics have discussed language and its innate ability to influence. Language is the medium through which ideologies are created and meaning is generated. For a feminist critic, the language employed in the item songs is crucial since it is embedded with the patriarchal world's dominant framework. The lyrics portray women as being on a lower social plane, and as the actress moves to the music, she affirms and embraces her place in society. In the song Fevicol Se, the lyrics read, "Main toh tandoori murgi hoon yaar, Gatka le mujhe alcohol se." (I am a barbecue chicken, swallow me with alcohol, O my beloved). Almost all item songs depict the process of women having to submit to themselves.
The lyrics of Dabangg's 2010 song Munni Badnaam hui suggest that Munni has turned bold and self-assured for her beloved, among other things. These songs' language trivialises women's status in society and insults them in addition to being offensive. A song such as Pinky Hai Paise Walon Ki (Zanjeer, 2013) implies that women are avaricious, materialistic, and malevolent, willing to sell their bodies as commodities to the highest bidder. The situation is made more complicated by the fact that this song is sung by people of all ages, genders, and castes, whether they are at a party, a procession, or even an annual day celebration. It is unacceptable how easily people applaud such offensive ideas.
In the context of postfeminist discourse, the appearance of item songs in Hindi movies corresponds with a change in perception of young female actors, who do not see the content of item songs as demeaning or sexualising. Instead, they view these kinds of songs as empowering. Sheila ki Jawaani made an effort to realign this viewpoint by discussing how women should experience pleasure from their bodies, not men. The song features a woman who, rather than giving in to the male gaze, fully enjoys her sexual power over it. With its choreography that imitates the same sexually suggestive dance moves that thrill the men around the dancer, the ostensibly feminist Sheila ki Jawaani is trapped within patriarchal boundaries. The song's success underscores the commercial appeal of such portrayals, despite their problematic implications.
The very industry that champions the empowerment of women by advocating for their autonomy to adopt sartorial choices and lifestyles of their preference simultaneously perpetuates a contradictory paradigm by marginalising and stigmatising women who adhere to modest fashion or choose to cover themselves. This dichotomy is emblematic of a deeper systemic hypocrisy, wherein women within the film industry are frequently subjected to implicit and explicit pressures to conform to Westernised models of fashion and aesthetics.
Such pressures are often framed as prerequisites for securing roles, being perceived as "modern," and ultimately sustaining their livelihoods. This coercive dynamic not only undermines the purported ethos of empowerment but also reinforces a hegemonic standard of femininity that privileges Western ideals, thereby marginalising alternative expressions of identity and agency. In doing so, the industry perpetuates a neoliberal commodification of women's bodies, wherein their value is contingent upon their adherence to prescribed norms of appearance, rather than their talent or individuality.
When examined on a macro level, it becomes evident that while numerous stakeholders within the industry engage in discourse surrounding the purported correlation between women's attire and the escalation of crimes against them, there is a conspicuous absence of critical interrogation directed toward the institutional and industrial flag bearers themselves.
These entities, often complicit in the propagation of obscenity, are instrumental in constructing and perpetuating hypersexualized representations of women within the societal fabric. This paradoxical scenario underscores a systemic failure to hold accountable those who actively contribute to the commodification and objectification of women, thereby reinforcing regressive gender norms and exacerbating the very issues they ostensibly critique.
To summarise, Bollywood's item songs glorify male sexual aggression and convey unfavourable messages regarding female consent. Since Bollywood controls the conversation about sexuality, audiences interpret item songs as sexual norms rather than seeing them as myths or fantasies. The culture that encourages sexual violence is influenced by these pro-rape beliefs, which are reinforced by item songs. To effectively tackle sexual violence in India, greater focus must be placed on teaching the public to be discerning consumers of the explicit and implicit messages about sexuality found in item songs, incorporating alternative narratives about sexuality through more thorough sexual education, and creating socially conscious music videos that enable women to authentically express their desires.
Fatima Zohra is a student pursuing MA Gender Studies from Jamia Millia Islamia.
Edited By: Sidra Aman
Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this publication are those of the author. They do not purport to reflect the opinions or views of The Jamia Review or its members.