Charu Khurana shatters 100-year-old Bollywood glass ceiling

It took one woman's grit, and as in the case of other rights' violations, the Supreme Court's intervention to overturn a misogynistic union rule

She has done make-up for Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Fareed Zakaria for a CNN interview. She has also done it for US President Barack Obama. 

But for 15 agonising years, Charu Khurana could not officially do any make-up for any Indian film, commercial or television, thanks to a misogynistic rule that barred women from becoming members of the Cine Costume and Make-Up Artists and Hair Dresser Association and, thus, working legally in those professions. 

On Monday, after more than a century of the Bollywood film industry being in existence, she broke through that glass ceiling when the union agreed to give her membership. But this came only after the Supreme Court stepped in twice – first in November when it struck down the union’s membership rules that kept women out as unconstitutional, and second on April 20, when it pulled up the union for stalling its orders. 

“The union kept putting up obstacles even after the court ruling, they demanded Rs 1 lakh in fees despite their own rules saying it’s only Rs 5,000 and they wouldn’t agree to give me a full break-up,” Khurana said. “Then they insisted I could only do make-up or hair, but not both!

“Women can go into space, they can become doctors, they can do anything but they weren’t allowed to become make-up artists!” she exclaims. 

The fact that a woman could not, until now, officially become a make-up artiste in the country’s film and television industry would be ironical if it weren’t so farcical, considering that the Indian beauty and wellness market is estimated to be worth more than $4 billion, and targeted overwhelmingly at women. 

But then, change typically comes in small doses, and nowhere is this truer than in the case of women’s rights. From the vote to property to equal wages, the battle for equal rights among genders has almost entirely been piecemeal and almost always delayed till such time as the discrimination beggared common sense. 

Khurana knows this too well. The 15-year journey – of which she spent almost half fighting the an unconstitutional practice – was marked by humiliation and rejection just to make a living. 

Through it, she has paid tens of thousands of rupees in fines for working on a set that would be ‘raided’ by the union; in one case, when she was doing work for a Kamal Hassan film and the last schedule of the film was disrupted by union members, she had to pay Rs 25,000 in fines. 

A member of any state union of such technicians can work in any state in the country, but in state after state, Khurana was met with rejection for being a woman. 

So she would work out of hotels and on-set vans, but that, too was fraught. “Once, on a set, union members came and, in the middle of the set, in public, started abusing me and using foul language,” she recalls. 

“It would have been disrespectful to any woman. Even if you are not union, not a member, why should anyone have to hear this,” she says. “Where is the education, where are the human values, and worse, you are doing something that is unconstitutional.” 

That was when she decided to go to court. “It is very humiliating because just because you are a woman, the shooting gets cancelled. No one will fight the battle, so I had to fight it myself. It is my bread and butter,” she says. “But I didn’t do it for myself, I said this has to change for all women.”

But the fact of the matter is that the Indian filmmaking industry remains a male-dominated industry. There are only a handful of female directors and cinematographers and even fewer technicians in areas like lighting and sound. On a set, the only women are typically actors, costume coordinators, or junior artistes. And thanks to the economics of filmmaking, no producer is likely ever stand up for a makeup artist when faced with a day’s loss of shooting, not to mention a star actor’s dates. 

Interestingly, even female actors must use a male makeup artist, something that Khurana says can be uncomfortable for the actresses, too, given the intimate nature of the job. 

Which is not to say that this is a problem exclusive to the film industry. Women are under-represented in almost all professions (and not just in India), with the exception, perhaps, of nursing and education. 

Indian companies, even the large ones, have only recently, and reluctantly, started inducting women into their boards of directors, and that, too, because of a diktat from the markets regulator seeking more gender diversity in the boardroom. 

Even then, compliance is pitiful; many who have done so have merely moved relatives or members of the promoter family to adhere to the rules. 

Khurana may have “gained independence for the first time, I can do what I want, it’s a good opportunity for me to explore new avenues, expand my horizons,” but her battle is not over yet. Even now, the union rules forbid a woman from doing a male actor’s hair or make-up; they also forbid a make-up artist from doing exclusive work for an actor until after three years of membership. “These are issues that will come up in an August hearing, as will the demand for the Rs 100,000 membership fee,” she says. 

But for now, she is just glad that her children will be proud of her for having taken on the system and won.