'Women play a crucial role in ushering in change in their communities'
By Anuja Agrawal

'How did such a strong woman living in a nondescript corner of Manipur emerge as such a pillar of strength?'
By Anjulika Thingnam

'I was fed throughout my stay on the farm on homegrown vegetables plucked right before my eyes'
By Aparna Pallavi

'After a day in the saltpans, I can never again think of white as a "cool" colour'
By Geeta Seshu

'Despite the worry that another tsunami could strike, the people here are moving on'
By Hema Vijay

'Where is the rest of the rice? The question kept nagging me'
By Linda Chhakchhuak

'The lyrics acquire a personal meaning for the young boy singing so earnestly'
By Manipadma Jena

'Here I was before a woman who was resilient enough to emerge unscathed every time she was attacked'
By Manisha Prakash

'Seeing the scene I was transported back to the 70s and 80s, when the women's movement was blossoming'
By Nirupama Dutt

'If the women refuse to sell fish, the men would be at a loss'
By  Prakriiti Gupta

'They had not become politicians even though they held a political office'
By  Soma Mitra Mukherjee

'She may look like any other ordinary woman but her achievements are not ordinary' By  Shuriah Niazi

'What was even more amazing was that almost everyone stopped to greet her and touch her feet'
By Swapna Majumdar

'There was no false modesty or shame about displaying the use of a female condom'
By  Tarannum Manjul

'It is a swim upstream every day for these women'
By  Usha Turaga-Revelli

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'Seeing the scene I was transported back to the 70s and 80s, when the women's movement was blossoming' By Nirupama Dutt

Shimla had never seen anything like this before and neither had I. It was like a sea of women walking through the rain and storm to the Vidhan Sabha to meet the Chief Minister and press for their demands. There were almost some 3,000 women, old and young. What united them was their status of being 'single'. Many had come from remote areas. In the past three years the Society for Uplift through Rural Action (SUTRA) at Jagjit Nagar, under the name of Ekal Nari Shakti Sangathan, had been campaigning on their behalf. In three years, these women who were living a marginal existence so far, had assumed centre stage. It was amazing to see 85-year-old Raj Kumari, with her blind daughter Rita Kumari, leading the procession. They had come all the way from Kangra. Rita is a deserted woman who lives with her widowed mother and the two are somehow managing to send Rita's teenage son to school by scrimping and saving. Yet, they have the spirit to struggle.

Seeing the scene I was transported back to the seventies and eighties, when the women's movement in the country was blossoming. I found myself humming a favourite marching song of those days, penned by Kamla Bhasin, that was set to the tune of a popular Punjabi folk song. The song went: 'Torh torh ke bandhano ko dekho behane aati hain, Oh dekho logo dekho behane aati hain, Aayeingi zulm mitayeingi yeh to naya zamana layeingi' (Look people the sisters are breaking shackles and marching in, They will make a change and herald the new world in). Let the cynics say what they will but such are indeed the efforts with which history is re-written and a new world heralded in.

Another eye-opener was my trip to the interiors of Haryana for the story on 'honour killings'. It felt as if one were still living in the medieval times. I was reminded of the love legends of North India like Heer-Ranjha in Punjab and Leelo-Chaman in Haryana, stories of lovers who came to a tragic end because they defied the prevalent social order for love.

Just two hours away from the Capital and three hours away from the modern city of Chandigarh, those who marry for love and thus defy the social order are brutally killed or forced to live apart or live under constant threat.

The caste 'panchayats' (village councils) of Haryana, which exist as illegal power groups in the rural areas, have earned such notoriety as some organisations have started fighting against these cases that openly defy the Constitution of the country. Travelling through the Jat-dominated rural districts of the state, one comes across one horrendous story after another.

The day I was returning to Chandigarh after a three-day trip, Ballah village near Karnal saw the gruesome killing of Sunita Devi and Jasbir Singh by the Sunita's father and relatives. The bodies were displayed outside the girls' home to send out the message: 'do not play with honour'. A woman is considered to represent the family's 'honour' and no one can change this -- not even the woman herself. In this case, the father and relatives marched proudly to the police station and the mother of the victim simply said, "We were forced to kill them."

In such a grim scenario, one's heart goes out to the women who are fighting against such heinous crimes, crimes which are never addressed by the powers-that-be because of electoral considerations. Jagmati Sangwan, as an activist leader; and Sheela Devi and Seema Banwal, as relatives of the victims, are real portraits of courage.

Young Seema Banwal of Karora village in Kaithal district fought the case that led to the arrests of the killers of her elder brother Manoj and his wife, Bubbly. The caste 'panchayat' is now wooing Banwal for an out-of-court settlement in exchange for money. The aggrieved family comprising a mother, two sisters, and a school-going son does not have enough to make ends meet. Yet, the brave sister says, "We will remain hungry but we will fight till the end."

One salutes her spirit but wonders if Heer-Ranjha and Leelo-Chaman will continue to be killed in today's India, too. Will they ever be able to live with dignity?

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