bahar
(transl. ”outside”)
Public spaces, whether they are bustling streets, transportation hubs, or waiting areas, are stages for the performance of culture, identity, and power. Here, I explored how bodies navigate and move in public spaces, focusing on the experiences of both Indian-born individuals and British Indians. Cultural identity is performed and negotiated through bodily movement, gaze and social interaction in these spaces. To avoid generalizing and assuming ethnicities in a multicultural space, this chapter runs short on visual content and instead is drawing from my observations of public behavior in both Delhi and London, exploring how movement is a reflection of deeper societal structures, how bodies adapt to public spaces, and how this movement is both fluid and constrained by cultural codes.
Navigating Public Space
Movement in public is not merely the act of walking from one place to another; rather, it is an embodied negotiation with the environment. Gestures, postures and even stride are all influenced by gender, social status, and the expectations of society. For instance, women in Delhi frequently walk with a heightened awareness of their surroundings, altering their pace, body language and posture in order to avoid unwanted attention or to manage the male gaze. They may become more cautious in their motions, with their shoulders drawn within and their steps becoming more rapid when they are in crowded markets or isolated streets. This ongoing negotiation is a reflection of the larger patriarchal norms that control the independence of women in public areas. The body becomes a site of constant gaze, and navigating these spaces often requires adapting one's movements to minimize attention through choosing certain routes, keeping close to others, or avoiding eye contact. Sociologist Henri Lefebvre’s “production of space” highlights how spaces are shaped by social relations, and in this context, how gendered and cultural dynamics dictate the way bodies move in public. I have observed female bodies physically change and prepare based on their chosen destination within the metropolis. The choice of clothing or footwear, as well as the effort invested in hairstyling, is directly influenced by whether individuals are heading to a secure environment with a lower likelihood of encountering unsafe individuals, or to a crowded location where they anticipate numerous gazes and intrusions. These spaces are not defined in these categories geographically but through the people and the society occupying it.
On the other hand, in the Indian-heavy pockets of London, public behavior can differ significantly from central London. There is a sense of familiarity in these spaces, where cultural practices from India are often transplanted, creating microcosms of “home” in a foreign land. The sense of belonging is evident in individuals' movements inside these settings, characterized by a natural fluidity and ease in their presence. They assertively participate in public discussions, frequently in Indian languages. It’s as if my identity is instantly recognizable, seen before it’s spoken, through subtle yet powerful cultural cues that mark me as part of the collective. However, this belonging also brings with it an uncomforting feeling as these spaces sometimes reinforce traditional hierarchies and behaviors from the homeland. British Indians experience dual surveillance in such areas: one from their community, which mandates conformity to specific norms or values and another from the wider society, where their cultural identity may be perceived as “other.” For instance, cultural norms might encourage conservative body language, especially for women, who may feel expected to maintain modesty through controlled postures, avoiding overly expressive movements or clothing that might be deemed inappropriate by their community.
In contrast, traversing central London reveals a distinct choreography in public areas. The city's anonymity affords a measure of liberation from the more pronounced social scrutiny seen in Delhi or in predominantly Indian neighborhoods. Individuals traverse streets and public areas with a notable degree of autonomy, encountering minimal apparent restrictions. Individuals move at differing speeds, frequently occupied with personal pursuits, such as checking their phones or playing/listening to music, resulting in a more personalized movement pattern. The body is less defined by gender or class, facilitating greater mobility; however, this may also induce a feeling of dislocation for individuals familiar with the cultural visibility of Indian spaces.
Public Transport as a Stage for Cultural Performance
Public transport is a critical space for observing cultural performances and the ways bodies navigate shared spaces. Bodies must negotiate space with strangers, and this creates a distinct choreography of movement.
In Delhi, the metro and buses are bustling with bodies in motion, each person negotiating limited space in ways that reflect their social status and cultural background. The Indian-born individuals I interviewed discussed how public transport becomes a place where power dynamics are clearly visible - whether through the physical jostling for space or through the dominance of certain bodies over others. Public transport systems frequently experience overcrowding, necessitating individuals to be in close contact, resulting in a struggle for space. The body continuously negotiates, adjusting its actions to preserve personal space, navigate through crowds or counterbalance the vehicle’s momentum. Women, specifically, must navigate a nuanced situation - frequently positioning themselves near doors or in corners, restricting movement to prevent physical contact, or opting for women-only compartments that provide respite from the male-dominated public domain.
In London, public transport operates differently even with a similar issue of being overcrowded. The environment is more structured, with clear norms around maintaining personal space and avoiding physical contact. Yet, for British Indians, the visibility of their bodies as racialized subjects can still produce tension. The Indian-born individuals who have moved to the UK often discuss how their bodily movements and the way they take up space in London’s public transport reflect their need to “blend in” or “not attract too much attention” while also standing out as ethnic minorities. Buses and trains become stages where they perform their British identity through adherence to social norms, such as maintaining personal space, while also navigating the occasional racial microaggressions or stares. They adhere to social conventions by maintaining distance, refraining from verbal communication and evading direct eye contact. Conversely, people may continue to engage in nuanced cultural practices, such as offering seats to elders or talking in Indian languages with relatives. These gestures signify a corporeal negotiation of identity, wherein the body oscillates between cultures, enacting both anticipated British behaviors and ingrained Indian customs.
The experience of bodies in transit also reveals how public space can create a sense of both freedom and restriction. For many British Indians, public transport in London offers the opportunity to navigate the city in an anonymous way, blending into the crowd, whereas in Delhi, public transport often reinforces social divisions, particularly along lines of class and gender.
Tim Cresswell’s theory of “mobilities” helps illuminate how movement through public space is not just physical but symbolic. Public transport becomes a space where cultural identities are constantly in flux, where bodies are in motion not only geographically but also socially and culturally. This perpetual state of transit is a reflection of the diasporic experience, in which individuals are always negotiating their place between a number of different cultural realms.
Surveillance and Choreographies of Waiting and Mobility
When it comes to power, public spaces are not neutral; rather, they are places where power is exercised, frequently through the eyes of other people. The idea of social surveillance is ubiquitous in Delhi, where the bodies of people, particularly women, are always being watched and evaluated. Women frequently shift their posture, limit their movements, or change their pace in order to avoid being observed by others. This gaze is an embodied experience that is characterised by hyper-awareness, in which every stride, gesture, and movement is consciously adjusted. Staring is a form of social control, a way of reinforcing social norms and hierarchies. Foucault’s theory of panopticism is relevant here, where the mere possibility of being watched alters behavior, creating a form of self-regulation even in the absence of direct surveillance.
In the Indian-heavy pockets of London, a similar form of surveillance occurs, though it may manifest in more subtle ways. British Indians often describe how they feel “watched” in certain areas of the city, particularly in spaces where their cultural identity is more visible. For example, wearing traditional clothing like a sari or kurta in a Western setting can draw attention both from members of the Indian community (who might expect this form of cultural expression) and from non-Indians, who may see it as a marker of difference. The result is a body that may feel simultaneously proud yet uncomfortable, leading to cautious or self-conscious movements. The surveillance in these areas is not just about security cameras or institutional monitoring; it is also about the social gaze and how individuals police each other’s behavior within diasporic communities. This duality can result in moments of dissonance, in which the body must switch between the postures and gestures that are characteristic of Indian cultural practices (such as bowing slightly in respect, avoiding direct eye contact with elders, or walking closely with family members) and the more individualistic and neutral gestures that are typical of British public life (such as maintaining personal space, walking with more autonomy, or offering a firm handshake). This continuous flipping has an effect on the manner in which British Indians physically occupy space, frequently resulting in subtle shifts in posture, gesture, and even the rate at which they move.
Whether one is waiting at a bus stop, in a queue, or for a train, the act of waiting produces a specific kind of bodily stillness that is reflective of larger societal systems. The deeply rooted social hierarchies of class and gender are frequently brought to light by the act of waiting in Delhi. While those in better social positions are able to skip lines or receive service more quickly, others in lower social positions are required to wait their time. In these places, the bodies take on a passive position, remaining immobile yet maintaining a tension that is reflective of the power dynamics that are actively at play. In these situations, the act of waiting is an embodied experience of inequality, in which the movement of the body (or the lack thereof) becomes a mirror of the respective social standing of the individual.
There are cultural standards in London that revolve around patience, order, and decorum, and these norms affect the choreography of waiting. In order to conform to the societal expectation of politeness, queues are more structured, and individuals move with a sense of purpose and control as they progress through the queue. Waiting in public places, on the other hand, might still result in a certain amount of discomfort, particularly for individuals who believe that their bodies are more noticeable than others because of their ethnicity or cultural identity. An internal sense of discomfort, in which the body continues to be hyper-aware of being observed or assessed, may be in contrast to the quiet that is experienced during the waiting process.