Dressed in my favourite grey shorts and tee I had walked up to the basement elevator of a mall. I was headed for a night show and clad in comfy-wear. The elevator had room for many more even after my partner and I got in. But the woman near me was not interested.

“Ami porer lift e jabo. Oi meye ta shorts pore achhe (I will take the next lift. That girl is wearing shorts),” said the woman aloud, giving me a disapproving glare and pulling back several people, who, I assumed, were her husband and children.

This was four years ago and not under any fascist regime but in the heart of Calcutta. I still wonder what the woman hated more — my shorts or a fat woman wearing them! Whatever the reason, this was my first brush with social distancing.

After the pandemic took over, shorts of all shapes and sizes became the basic work-from-home uniform for men and women alike, whatever the body type. We see them all around us now. Professionals strutting around in cotton printed shorts or boxers, phone in hand, ears plugged in and busy in heated conversations. Bengalis often lovingly call their shorts “hafu”, an abbreviation of another favourite Bengali fashion word, “half pant”.

But “hafu” is still not welcome in public in Calcutta in most places, however high-end it may be! Even when the global fashion gurus declared denim bermudas the flavour of the season last year, the city continued to remain hostile to them.

In July this year Calcutta police refused to take down a complaint from two shorts-clad individuals who were asked to trouser up first. There have been other incidents of harassment for shorts-clad girls, some making news and others not. Many pubs (where you are supposed to relax) do not allow men to walk in shorts, irrespective of their length. Bengaluru pubs, on the other hand, welcome all outfits without anybody raising an eyebrow. Shorts are not allowed for breakfasts and brunches in some Calcutta eateries, however casual they may be. They are considered indecent in the city and are bound to invite public glares and leers though they expose just as much as a skirt. Sometimes, a chiffon sari ends up exposing more, but the City of Joy will have none of it. Cover up, cover up, cover up! We are expected to cover up in peak summers, before elders, before strangers, before God, before everyone. The “hafu” can only come out in Puri and Digha when we are clicking selfies on the beach.

My perennially shorts-clad partner often raises eyebrows for his choice of clothing. After being mercilessly judged and fat-shamed by stark strangers, I have learnt to reserve even my high-end pairs for morning walks.

Yet it remains the most comfortable, no-fuss non-binary piece of clothing ever. I often wonder how an attire and not an action can be considered indecent. But Calcutta insists on following its own code of conduct.

Recently I came across a meme where the writer wanted to wear shorts only because she felt hot (no pun intended here). She invited senior citizens, neighbours, everybody, to do the same if they sought comfort. Frivolous though it may sound in today’s context where basic freedom is held at ransom, I decided to take up the challenge. After all, every right, however small, is worth fighting for!

• Model: Ankita Singh

• Hair: Pritam Das

• Make-up: Sujit Das

• Wardrobe & styling: Kaira Sen

• Photograph: Baban Mukherjee