<p>When the uniform or dress code is the dominant preoccupation of the state and even the nation, can any activity or decision avoid it? The idea of uniform varies in different settings, and the need for it is not the same in every place where it is prescribed. The need for the uniform in the army is different from the need for it in a school or a convent or an Om Shakti pilgrimage, and naturally, the details of the uniform would also vary. Dress codes are of two kinds. One is positive, which mandates what should be worn. The other is negative, which prescribes what is not to be worn. The question whether the positive kind can relent to accept exceptions is widely debated. The negative prescription, which excludes things, does not get so much attention even in circles habitually given to disputes. </p>.<p>The Karnataka government has taken the dress code norm seriously, perhaps too seriously in a bid to show that the hijab-in-class is not a special target, and has now prescribed a code of the mixed kind for candidates who appear in examinations. If students were told what they should wear, those aspiring to be teachers are mainly told what not to wear, and to stick to the basic minimum, no frills and additions, variations or excesses. If anybody wants to take the exam to become an assistant professor, follow the code. NEET had already thought about it, and Karnataka had to simply borrow the thinking, and the list. The h-word is conspicuous by its absence but if anyone thought she could breeze into the exam hall with anything on the head, she came from the moon. </p>.<p>But why are examiners becoming so worried and particular about what the candidates wear and do not wear, and how they look and walk? Is the authority becoming more suspicious and distrustful of young people – students, exam-takers, job-seekers – or are the younger ones of today bigger crooks than those who went before them? This is the first time the Karnataka Examination Authority is going into the nitty-gritty of permissible and impermissible attire for candidates, and it must be admitted that it is fairly exhaustive, though maybe some doubt why there is even a colour code and why the lungi, the Kashmiri phiran, the Roman toga and the Russian overcoat are not specifically mentioned as banned outfits. These are not times when a student is considered honest till he is caught copying in exams, and this is true about those who aspire to be professors, too. We live in a society where there is a deficit of both trust and honesty, and we cover it up with a simple uniform.</p>
<p>When the uniform or dress code is the dominant preoccupation of the state and even the nation, can any activity or decision avoid it? The idea of uniform varies in different settings, and the need for it is not the same in every place where it is prescribed. The need for the uniform in the army is different from the need for it in a school or a convent or an Om Shakti pilgrimage, and naturally, the details of the uniform would also vary. Dress codes are of two kinds. One is positive, which mandates what should be worn. The other is negative, which prescribes what is not to be worn. The question whether the positive kind can relent to accept exceptions is widely debated. The negative prescription, which excludes things, does not get so much attention even in circles habitually given to disputes. </p>.<p>The Karnataka government has taken the dress code norm seriously, perhaps too seriously in a bid to show that the hijab-in-class is not a special target, and has now prescribed a code of the mixed kind for candidates who appear in examinations. If students were told what they should wear, those aspiring to be teachers are mainly told what not to wear, and to stick to the basic minimum, no frills and additions, variations or excesses. If anybody wants to take the exam to become an assistant professor, follow the code. NEET had already thought about it, and Karnataka had to simply borrow the thinking, and the list. The h-word is conspicuous by its absence but if anyone thought she could breeze into the exam hall with anything on the head, she came from the moon. </p>.<p>But why are examiners becoming so worried and particular about what the candidates wear and do not wear, and how they look and walk? Is the authority becoming more suspicious and distrustful of young people – students, exam-takers, job-seekers – or are the younger ones of today bigger crooks than those who went before them? This is the first time the Karnataka Examination Authority is going into the nitty-gritty of permissible and impermissible attire for candidates, and it must be admitted that it is fairly exhaustive, though maybe some doubt why there is even a colour code and why the lungi, the Kashmiri phiran, the Roman toga and the Russian overcoat are not specifically mentioned as banned outfits. These are not times when a student is considered honest till he is caught copying in exams, and this is true about those who aspire to be professors, too. We live in a society where there is a deficit of both trust and honesty, and we cover it up with a simple uniform.</p>