My ground level staff is fabulous! Toiling in sweltering heat to meet targets for a tangible change, as opposed to the staff I meet above the ladder's rung. The ground-staff changes with the change in centres but I mostly enjoy the company at work, when on field. Therefore, today, I wish to introduce you to one of my favourite girls from one of these centres. It is in these centres that I've met some real-life heroines who stood rock-solid when cataclysmic afflictions tore their entire existence apart.I met many such women, all having exhibited commendable courage but the story i choose to share today is of my favourite girl. Read on!

She's the twenty two year old you meet when you travel far ahead of the "Kashmiri Gate" metro station to the SEWA information-centre inside the slums of Rajeev Nagar. She sits on the information desk to tend to a swarm of people who arrive everyday seeking information about myriad schemes launched by the Government of India. Her table effectuates the first step of implementation of these schemes. It informs.

Chandbi's story starts way back in time when she was merely fourteen and was coerced to discontinue her studies and barred from writing her Eleventh standard exams only so she could be married off to a twenty two year old. Her retaliations were rendered futile by her parents. Thus,she was married off at 14. Soon after, she was expecting her first child. Consequentially, was sent off to her paternal household to spend some time there. When she returned, she was six months pregnant. The in-laws weren't essentially loving towards her, ditto for the husband. The violence on her did manifest in various forms earlier but she endured,says Chandbi. However, this time, the husband and in laws tried to set her ablaze by pouring Kerosene oil on her. She pleaded them not to and with a few neighbours interjecting,the dispute settled and Chadbi's life was flung bountifully at her by her abusive spouse and in-laws. Various such instances followed. From structural violence to verbal harassment to physical abuse. But she held on. In her seventh month, she says, she had a particularly unexplained distaste for lentils(with all the hormonal changes she was going through,this wasn't an anomaly) and so one day she decided to finish her meal with some sugar. For this, he dragged her outside the house, to an open ground and battered her black and blue. The obvious threat to her life caused the neighbours to press upon her parents to take her away. They did. And it was transcending from one hell to another. There were taunts for her failed marriage. For her effrontery to exit those confines and enter these. Amidst all this mental trauma, she gave birth to a daughter. Then followed the rants that defamed her daughter's birth for it was a daughter and not son. The husband refused to take her in.

Tired,Chandbi lodged a complaint in the district court claiming maintenance for herself and her daughter if he doesn't plan to take them back. In response, the husband filed a case of theft against her along with a petition seeking divorce. He accused her of having stolen jewellery worth three lakhs from his household. The case went to the Delhi district court. Chandbi was financially dependent on her parents during this time and the lack of their support resulted in her inability to afford a lawyer. Finally,she decided to fight it out herself. She was now fighting a professional lawyer for her stance. She had claimed a sum of 3000 for herself and her child's maintenance. The sessions in the court had her husband assassinate her character badly and slander her in every way possible. Unprepared for such false allegations, she still managed to keep her calm throughout. She tells me that she never ever allowed the tears to fall inside the courtroom, despite all she went through. Profuse tears, however, followed once she was home. Also, no parental support meant no parental support. She used to leave her newborn home and traveled to the court alone. Coming from an orthodox family where she wasn't even allowed to peer outside the window, managing all that alone wasn't easy for her, she says. But she did.To counter the allegation of the theft, she demanded them to produce a receipt of purchase of all stolen jewellery. They couldn't. She could. Her jewelery that was still at his household. She demanded it back. Along with a property that was given as a part of her dowry. Everything summing up-to a good 3 Lakh,plus monthly maintenance.
The husband now agreed to take Chandbi back if she agreed to spend the rest of her life as his second wife. She vehemently denied. Now she wanted a divorce too. The husband then came up with his best shot. He denied all that maintenance and asserted that he wants his daughter back and that he'd bring her up. Chandbi had no defensive retort. Helplessly,she was sitting outside the court and crying after the hearing. That's when she overheard two lawyers talking about a certain case from where she learnt that the husband has no claim over the child if the wife, who is unable to maintain her child,has given it to someone for adoption. It rang a bell in her mind. She came home and pondered over it for two days. When she was sure about it, she decided to give her child to her own mother. She got two documents prepared, one stating that her daughter has been adopted by her mother and another stating that she can have her back whenever she desires. She then produced the first paper in the court.

The husband now proposed giving the demanded amount to her if she decided to return the child. Her choice. She says she gave this a thought till the next court date. The parents pressurized her to give the child off so it'd be easy for her to remarry. But she had different plans. She knew the fate of her daughter if she's given to them. She says, she did not want her daughter to face the same fate as her. She knew she'd be abused when she reaches there. Reduced to a mere domestic help. That's not what she wanted for her. In the court, later, she chose her daughter over Three Lakhs and maintenance. The judge urged her to rethink. He gave them two hours.At the end of the two hours, her decision remained unchanged. She chose her daughter. Also, she insisted that she wouldn't want any future contact with the man and neither would allow him to contact her daughter in any form. All of this at fifteen years of age. Soon after the court's verdict, the Husband tried to stab Chandbi at an occasion and to abduct her daughter at another. Failing miserably both these times,thankfully, he now has no contact with her and her daughter for over the past six years. This incident caused Chandbi, who's in-laws were based in Rampur, a district in Uttar Pradesh, just like her own family, to leave the place forever and migrate to Delhi, with her entire family.

Today, the daughter is eight years old. Chandbi wants her to grow up to be a doctor. She's studying in first standard and is very shy. And oh, her name is Sneha. Chandbi is now financially independent and her independence helps her fend for the both of them. Veiled in her lively smile is a gruesome past that terrifies most of us but does raise some very crucial question about the social standing of our women. And it isn't just Chandbi's story, I've met three more like her in the past two days but I'll refrain from discussing their stories till the next article along with pointing out the questions Chandbi's story raises.

For now, Chandbi found her little bout of happiness in the person who loves her. And her daughter. They are soon to get married. Hoping she'll receive all she expected from her first wedding. The fourteen year old had seen too much for her age. Let's at least hope this twenty two year old gets all she deserves. And more! The twenty two year old with an eight year old daughter.

My first few weeks at SEWA were bestowed merely with the task of observation to facilitate my understanding about its functioning. The observational bout lasted two complete weeks. Routinely, each day would involve an informal interaction with staff and members primarily for the excavation of details needing improvisations. Surprisingly, what caught my attention was the continual requests by various members emanating a keen desire to pursue their abruptly cut-off education during childhood. Many had only seen a school, never stepped in to even stroll inside it. All of them now, however, wanted to rectify their erroneous past by starting or continuing their education. A seventeen year old Sara had a fervent desire to read and write, to converse in English like she observes a lot of people do. Sara has never been to a school. There are many more like her. All of them with a single desire, to study. For the same, they wanted SEWA to intervene for help.

Yes, guessed it right. We're going to discuss female literacy here. And no, I am not willing to criticize the government vehemently. I instead will point fingers at ourselves.


Patriarchy is a dominating operational force in Sara's life. Add to it, penury.She was never allowed to exit the confines of the household to find herself a footing through her education. Education, in my opinion, being the most important tool of her liberation. Now let us generalize the situation. We all know education is similarly important for both sexes, thanks to the much recent propagation reaching every household through the television set. Still, with the ceaseless efforts, the literacy rate only grew by 9.4% in the past decade. With a 11.8% growth rate in female literacy, only as much as 65% women of the largest democracy in the world have been able to trudge towards literacy. Yes, there are governmental programs. Myriad of them have been launched to achieve the elusive figures aimed at during policy-making. Implementation, as we all know, is another story. All's been said and heard umpteen times. Let us now ask ourselves, what stops families from sending their daughters to school when in theory, we all seem to have grasped the importance of education for our girls. To me, it is the school education seeming to contradict the cultural imprinting. We are scared to liberate our own women. The thought of women starting to challenge male subordination by exposing themselves to the same life as that of their male counterparts still scares some of us. The some of us who still act as the carriers of patriarchy in the society.

In a society that begins the emotional, physical and psychological stereotyping of its females right from the point of their birth it is required that she submits to the male authority in all aspects of life to the extent of being coerced to give up her intellectual autonomy and individuality. The state insists upon the education of its females while the society is intimidated by this radical experiment, even today. Schools, thus born, are merely monuments of contradiction. The one that exists between the state and its society. The aim of a girl's socialisation at home is being challenged by the very concept of a school. Not instantiating from the slums, where the illiteracy plagues the parents, I am instantiating from my own experience of an acquaintance who was reprimanded by her parents for showing signs of independence. In stern voice, the twenty-three year old was being castigated and her education cursed for the parents claimed, it made her independent. No, I am not kidding. I am not using hyperbole. I am merely stating. And here, the girl belongs to a prestigious institution of the country. I'd refrain further details for the sake of anonymity but what appalls me is the thought that cripples us. Will the purpose of education ever be attained if independence of thought remain unattained by the scholar/student? We all know the answer. The customs that involve the careful tutoring of the female to evolve into a socially acceptable specimen stems from the idea of associating the family's honour to the females of the household. We need to get rid of it. And nothing but education will change it. Education of our women. Of our men. Now that the wall hoardings have theoretically pressed upon the importance of female literacy, we all need to put it to practice too. We're trying to practice it. The bunch of women who wanted to study, to be able to read and write, now manage to take a hour and a half daily out of their work and attend classes organised by SEWA. They know how to spell "Self dependence" and "Confidence" and somewhat discern and comprehend the phenomenon these words carry.

Last week, when Sara came and thanked me for the classes, there wasn't anything I was unwilling to do to continue what I was doing. Their smiling faces meant a lot. We need bring more smiles, all of us!