The Bihar government’s decision to ban the playing of vulgar and double-meaning songs in public transport—buses, autorickshaws and trains—has invited predictable debates on censorship, morality and personal freedom. Yet, seen in the context of everyday public life, the move had become unavoidable. For years, women passengers have quietly endured an atmosphere made hostile by the blaring of songs that reduce them to objects of ridicule or desire.
What may pass off as entertainment for a section of commuters is, for many women and girls, an assault on dignity and a constant source of embarrassment. Public transport, by definition, is a shared civic space. When it becomes uncomfortable or intimidating for half the population, the state cannot look the other way.
The question of defining vulgarity
Defining what constitutes vulgarity or double meaning is admittedly difficult. There is no neat legal formula that can capture cultural nuance or changing social sensibilities. But identifying vulgarity is rarely difficult in practice. The reaction it provokes is often instant and revealing—sniggers, lewd comments, exaggerated appreciation from some, and visible discomfort from others.
The problem is not one of interpretation alone; it is about impact. What is often forgotten in these arguments is the asymmetry of choice. Those who can afford private vehicles or taxis simply opt out of public transport. Women from modest backgrounds, students, domestic workers and office-goers do not have that luxury. For them, avoiding daily humiliation is not an option. The ban must be viewed against this backdrop of unequal vulnerability.
Popular culture versus public space
Vulgarity in popular culture is hardly new. The song “Choli ke Peeche” once triggered a national debate and yet became an instant hit. Puritans condemned it; others defended it as harmless entertainment. Its popularity only underlined a basic truth: such songs thrive because there is a market for them. Entire careers have been built around performing suggestive lyrics. That commercial reality, however, does not justify forcing unwilling audiences to consume them in public spaces.
Double-meaning songs pose an even trickier challenge. They may contain no explicit words or references to body parts, allowing them to slip past literal scrutiny. Yet their intent is clear to any listener. The absence of overt vulgarity does not make them innocuous. The discomfort they generate is real, even if harder to codify.
Enforcement concerns
The most serious question, of course, is enforcement. Do authorities on the ground have the training, sensitivity and clarity to implement such a ban fairly and consistently? That remains a moot point. Arbitrary action or selective targeting would only discredit a well-intentioned policy.
Still, the principle behind the decision deserves support. Public spaces must be governed by norms of decency that prioritise inclusion and safety, not the loudest preferences. Entertainment is a matter of choice; dignity is a matter of right.
