In the age of algorithmic outrage and clickbait activism, where every provocation translates into likes and followers, feminist influencer Divija Bhasin declaring herself a “Proud Randi” stands out- not as an act of liberation, but as a disturbing spectacle of privilege. It is the kind of internet feminism that confuses rebellion with relevance, and self-expression with insensitivity.
Divija Bhasin and the commodification of suffering
For centuries, sex workers- derogatorily labelled randis, have lived on the margins of Indian society. They are among the most exploited and invisibilised groups of women. Many are victims of trafficking, coerced into the trade through poverty, abuse, or deception. Their daily existence is marked by violence, social stigma, and disease, all under the constant gaze of a society that consumes their bodies yet refuses them dignity.
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For Divija Bhasin to turn the word randi into a statement of pride, from a place of comfort and social media privilege, is not empowerment. It is commodification of someone else’s trauma. The horrors these women face are not props for engagement farming or slogans for performative feminism. They are real, raw, and tragic. By using their suffering as a brand strategy, Bhasin and others like her transform empathy into entertainment.
The illusion of “Reclaiming”
The defense of such statements often hides behind the language of reclamation- “We’re taking back the slur.” But reclamation without lived experience is theft, not empowerment. A person who has never known the brutality of being called a randi in the streets, who has never faced the stigma of being a sex worker, cannot “reclaim” that word.
The word randi carries centuries of layered humiliation, and gendered violence. In India, sex work is not a symbol of rebellion- it’s a symptom of inequality. When a privileged influencer uses that word for shock value, she isn’t breaking chains. She’s glamorising the whip.
This false reclamation reinforces what it claims to dismantle. It lets elite feminism masquerade as radicalism, while doing nothing for the women whose realities it claims to represent.
The erasure of Real struggles
India’s red-light districts- Sonagachi, GB Road, Kamathipura, and countless unmarked lanes across cities tell a story of systemic failure. Most of the women there never chose that life. Many were trafficked as minors, sold by relatives, or deceived with promises of jobs. Reports suggest that more than 70% of women in Indian sex work were forced into it.
To call oneself a “Proud Randi” from an air-conditioned apartment, with a camera and WiFi, is to mock those women. It erases the brutality of their condition and turns it into a hashtag trend. This is not solidarity, it is cultural voyeurism.
True solidarity would mean advocating for better legal protection, health rights, and rehabilitation programs for sex workers, not using their pain to generate outrage clicks.
Divija Bhasin normalises abuse and desensitises audiences
When slurs are casually thrown around in the name of empowerment, language loses its moral edge. What was once an insult against a woman’s dignity becomes an ironic “badge of honour.” And that’s dangerous, because it desensitises society to the abuse itself.
The word randi has been used for generations to humiliate women, not only sex workers, but any woman who dared to assert herself. By normalising it in pop-feminist rhetoric, we make it easier for misogyny to disguise itself as humour, and for exploitation to be dismissed as “choice.”
This linguistic trivialisation harms women far beyond the walls of social media. It signals to young girls that slurs can be “cool” if used by influencers, and that the language of degradation can somehow be “rebranded.” That’s not progress; that’s regression with better PR.
Empowerment without empathy is narcissism
The tragedy of modern digital feminism is that it often begins with “me” and ends with “me.” Empowerment becomes performance. The voices of the marginalised are ventriloquized by the privileged, while the real victims remain unheard.
Feminism without empathy is just narcissism dressed in activism. It becomes about visibility, not vulnerability. Divija Bhasin fits perfectly into this pattern – a shock statement designed to provoke and polarize, not to heal or humanize.
If empowerment requires turning another woman’s suffering into content, then it is not empowerment at all, it is exploitation wearing eyeliner.
Words shape worlds. The word randi has always belonged to those who were crushed by it- not those who can afford to “own” it for clout. Divija Bhasin and attempt to aesthetisize a slur is not feminism; it’s opportunism with a filter. True feminism doesn’t need to call itself “proud” to prove its worth. It needs to be just, compassionate, and rooted in truth, something the internet could use a little more of.
Note- The author is an accomplished Mental Health Practitioner from Pune. She did her Phd from University College London (UCL): Division of Psychology and Language Sciences.
