She & Her

She and Her.. fight
Very often
A battle of silence
Driving each other to extremes
Its Emotions vs Logic
Innocence vs Maturity
A battle of senses
Sponge vs Strength
Empathy vs Clarity
Very often
She and Her.. fight
A battle in darkness
Of the night

-Diary of an Oxymoron

Hey Girl

Hey Girl
What seems the case with your eyes
Is that black, a color of your unwiped kohl
Or a hangover from the last night

It could be a color of your pain
Or that of your skin
So undefined it seems to me
So blind

Hey Girl
Did he hit you again?
Or his lingering thoughts
Of the past
Didnt leave your mind

It could be a color of the night sky
Trapped in ur sleepless eyes
Or the color of sleeplessness itself
Of the overworked kind

Hey Girl
Are you crying again these times?
Or you didnt stop at all from that day
Memories of the past
Ghosts of the future undefined

It could be the pain that numbed you
Or the emptyness that defines you at times
Hollow do you feel
Or does it burst ur mind

Hey Girl
I look at you
And look at my mind
For we all are one
In a million similar stories of women personified

It could be that i am making it all up
Or reading it beyond the visible lines
Of expression,
Of those snubbed truths around
This careless world living beside

Hey Girl
What seems the case with your eyes
Is that black color a depth of the universe
Or that black hole of the ache
Of the you, the me, combined.

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

Emptiness outside, emptiness inside: The Storm of Fall 2012

Call me crazy

That's the way I want to be

This chaos of my world

Is better than the order of yours

-------

Fall of 2012 was a joy I couldn’t cherish for long. I had just received a great scholarship. Was studying in a brilliant school in the city everyone craves to live in (New York). I was finally living on my own. There was that smell of newness, the energy that a milestone brings to you. The streets, the noise all added to the craziness in head. Happy? Or so it appeared to me. Or so, I wanted it to appear.

Is it a crawling snake?

That can be seen with my eyes shut 

Or should I use a shiny rake?

To polish the loose ends of my senseless gut 

The storm in October 2012 that happened in the city of New York took a lot then just the city’s infrastructure. It left a bright dirty spot on my mind too. As Sandy, The Storm changed the course of action for the city making it moan in pain of devastation; a storm took over my life too. Before the storm, I had been overwhelmed by the new life and the daily events: meeting people, managing things totally on my own, feeling lonely, feeling excited. After the storm, I stood there, with an expressionless face and the shattering noise of being broken.

Darkness around is darkness inside


That resonates every now and then

Sooner or later one has to decide


To embrace or reject it from within

Birds have stopped chirping now


And trees stand unshaken


All I see is a raised up brow


With hoards of words waiting to be taken



I walked down the Washington Square Park to my building overly dressed in layers of clothing, trying to save myself from the cold snow. It was 4 pm, dark already and the cold air around hitting my face made me wonder how people saved themselves from the gloominess this weather brought to their lives. I recalled the time from Delhi where I had always hated the heat and craved the snow.

There I was, having what I had desperately wanted. But was I happy? Why was sadness gripping me? The aftermath of the October Storm had left a crack in my soul. November had been healing but the emptiness did not help. Diwali in Canada and Thanksgiving at New Jersey made me feel better as being around family helped. And as the month of November flashed before my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to be happy and love it all, the pain just gripped me tight. All I could hear was the silence inside. The chirping people celebrating another festive month did not come as a breath of fresh air. I was so looking forward to the New Year. Even though I hated the soulless cold air slapping my face, I tried to embrace it. I knew I deserved it. The good, and the bad!

Sudden rush brings joyful trouble


In this dark painful body of work

Eyes rubbed again to rid off the bubble

Trying to shed of the inside Berk

Creaks of the window in pain


Without wind playing a role


Glass is lost & wood is in stain

Nobody looks at the dented pole

It was a routine for me to sit beside the window in my room. The heater made me realize how humans crave for what is missing. "When its cold, we want hot, always wanting what is not". The words resonated in my mind. The irony was that somewhere that cold-hot change made me learn about my own self. My constant craving for what is missing from my life and my struggle to change when that missing piece of the puzzle is found.  The funny thing was, I enjoyed it. The numerous phone calls to home just to stay afloat failed at times. The empty room made me cry and weather outside made it hard to get out.

Pages flying in the head


Are they a figment of my imagination too

Lying on desk, sitting on bed


Asking why when the question is who

The snake crawls near


And starts growing in size


Bravely facing it without any fear


Or wear a veil and disguise



But yes, I survived! I survived strong. And people helped. Those long discussions in the kitchen with my landlady, those friends who would call from India, those city friends helping me get out of home and yes, that one new friend who came in just at the right time to help me embrace pain, helped me immerse myself in work and recover.





No sign of light, but fire within


Fear is lived to reach freedom


Don't burst the thought yet with that pin


Prematurity here would be just so dumb

I started embracing the pain, enjoying the wind slapping my numb face. Everything turned beautiful and yes, I was waiting for 2013 to come with my arms spread wide!

The darkness around is darkness inside


For fire originates in you


Convert it in light and let it reside


In words long lived, even if a few

Is it a crawling snake?

You can continue to question forever


Or puff the snake & his venom


And cherish the poison in you, in you.

Fighting Female Foeticide: Stories From A Typical Day At Work

The story below is a real life experience of the author during a session on female foeticide in a village in Haryana.

This is the first of  two stories: one from a day at work in a village, and another from her own life in a city, both revolving around female foeticide & preference for sons – making it clear that the issue has nothing to do with urban-rural settings.

“They will keep on asking me to reproduce till they get a son for the family.”

—x———-x———–

In 2005, during a project in my undergrad school, I did a secondary research project on the issue of Female Foeticide and Son Preference in India. In 2011-12, I was traveling from one village to another in Haryana, conducting sessions with men and women to create awareness, answer queries, and to try changing mindsets of the people on the issue of the girl child, female foeticide, and son preference.

In these years, I had worked with a few organizations on the issue, assisted my sister on her project relating to the same, done behavior change campaigns, and developed innovative communication tools for the same. Yet, I stood there,  facing the dilemma of why, how, and when. 

The Scenario

At the meeting to raise questions

During one of my visits, I traveled into a small village of one of the states with a terrible Male-Female Sex Ratio. I am comfortable interacting with a group of not more than 35-50 people. A small group like that is more interactive, can be handled much more easily, with a better flow of communication- especially on such crucial social issues.

When I reached the venue, I saw a crowd of 200 men and women sitting, divided by the aisle. On one side, sat the men with their turbans. On the other, were the women with their veils crossing their chin. Now this was a little complicated scenario for me. I knew that both categories of my participants appreciated this brutal form of killing and violation of the right to be born; favoring males as the carriers of traditions and family name.

 I knew that both categories of my participants appreciated this brutal form of killing and violation of the right to be born; favoring males as the carriers of traditions and family name.

The Root

The problem of patriarchy, son preference, and women being ignored has deep linkages with every cause I ever took up in the villages with respect to women’s rights and gender issues (violence, education, nutrition, dowry, child marriage etc). The problem was that not only men but even the women followed the so-called traditional methods, thereby creating more disparity.

The problem was also the lack of communication between the men and women, on any social issue. I learnt one thing from this: in order to solve any problem with respect to rights of Women (economic, social, or political ) we need to engage and bring on the same level both the genders of the communities – to discuss and understand.

The problem was also the lack of communication between the men and women, on any social issue.

So there I was, happy to realize that this was one of the most amazing opportunities I could ever have, to make the two interact. I knew the risks were huge. I could be shamed, accused, or worse – thrown out of the village for trying to break the age old systems of functioning and change  the lack of communication between the two genders. But, I realized it was worth the risk.

The Act

As I stood there, I realized that to get the best of reactions, it was important for me to startle my audience with something controversial. And I started with my story. The story of my ancestral home, where son preference was a very commonly accepted norm. I started sharing what I saw as a young daughter to how I became a woman. And as I did this, I threw in my series of snapshots and films I always worked with when interacting in the communities.

I stood there, with a microphone in my hand, amongst the crowd of men and women, asking them why, how, and when. The same questions that I had been carrying with me even after so many years of working on the issue.

Now I had known a few answers all this while. Who will light the pyre of the parents? A son is the gateway to Moksha! A daughter is a source of misery! Who will carry forward the family name and lineage? Who will feed the parents in their old age? Take care of the women?! Why go through dowry? Safety of women? Who will be the man?

The reason I stood there with those questions every time was because I knew I would end up getting a new set of answers, every single time.

The Reactions

One elderly woman turned to me and shouted out loud, saying that I have gone mad to think that its okay to not have a son. This is how she explained the cycle (translated from Haryanvi):

“The world needs men. If a son is born in the family, he takes care of the family, carries the name forward, helps earn money, and feed the members, is safe and does not need to be taken care of (body-wise). He gives dowry for the family’s daughters, takes care of the future rituals (chhuchhak, bhaat etc), protects the family lineage, gives more sons to the house, stays with the parents, lights the pyre and helps achieve moksha (salvation)…

What will we do if we do not have son to do all this? These days the younger generation is having fewer kids. We tell them to not get the foetus aborted, but what is the solution if they want a son? They have to get it cleaned before it turns older (abortion). And now tell me, why should we not promote female foeticide?”

“…And now tell me, why should we not promote female foeticide?”

An old man agreed to the above stated ‘facts’, but also explained how they never pushed the women to have only sons. Every woman agreed that they had gone through so much torture in their lives that having a son meant high social status in the family as she was the carrier.

Slowly, as the discussion garnered more comments and reactions, I saw a chattering crowd of men and women debating on why and why not. A lot of the women with daughters agreed with me, and a lot accused me of trying to change “how it has been”. I stood there smiling internally because I had initiated a major conversation that had been missing from the community, which had accepted female foeticide as the norm.

As I made them see the future of a land without women, a land with a high crime rate, a land where women handled every task that the old lady had mentioned, a lot of the protesters went silent. I had no clue how and what it was going to lead to (the session was a part of a project) but I was hopeful that I had initiated at least a thought which was missing from the majority of the crowd.

A picture of the future  is important. What happens if we keep on going like this? When people realize that it’s not healthy to go on like we are going, the fear increases and chances are many that it will change to a “something should be done” attitude. When a picture of “no women in next 5 years if you keep on killing girls” was shown, people started realizing the value of girls, daughters, wives, mothers.

The Cycle of Change

While a baby cannot be born just with an egg of the mother and needs the sperm of the father, similar is the case with rearing the child. I have seen that in rural areas in India, if a woman works, she takes part in the decision making of the house in the smallest and biggest matters, she has an opinion on the children’s future, and that opinion is heard and valued.

It is important for women in rural areas to realize that the need to change is now, and education is very important. Not just schooling but also awareness and capacity building – which can help develop the logical self, in defining and deciding what is right and what is wrong.

It is important for women in rural areas to realize that the need to change is now, and education is very important. Not just schooling but also awareness and capacity building.

It’s a researched fact that Education has led to understanding and realization of choices, which has further led to economic empowerment and sharing of responsibilities. We can say that the community heritage is a reason too, but education is a founding backbone of the process.

The implementation of policies along with training at the grassroots is crucial, too. Unless people see the reason why change is required strongly, people wont change. And for that to happen, in India atleast, a multi-pronged approach with both Behaviour Change Campaigns and policy level implementations is required.

The Behaviour Change Campaigns need to be community specific/state specific with exhaustive research (using methods like Positive Deviance) to be used to define Why and How and Whom (W’s) of the campaign with participation by the people, for the people. A simple campaign on the Community radios running in the villages can create a change in many homes.

Community Media, and Mass media need to collaborate on common guidelines-based messages that should percolate the homes through edutainment based methods (TV shows, radio programs), in a very subtle way in order to make it a casual process, avoiding rebellion by elders.

I believe and I think it is crucial that the idea should move beyond just saying and towards more doing.  We need strategic methods with constant evaluation in order to stay on track.

That day, at the end of the session, a young woman working with the police came to me. She explained her story as the other young girls hopped around. I saw hope, I saw challenges, I saw passion to make things work. I realized, I cannot give up on the society so easily. I also realized that things can be worked around, but the start has to be made now.

There are a few deviant stories around where girls have been born despite all challenges and have managed to turn into inspiring stories for other to learn from. The challenge is to find these stories and convert them into a norm instead of being an exception.

The cycle of oppression that women go through in their lifetime needs to change. I came back from the session, hopeful and positive for many more deviant stories for us all to learn from. This was not, after all, just another day at work.

This article was originally published at womens web. 

How Community Radio Is Giving Rural Women The Voice They Never Had

Women’s access to and participation in the media has always remained a big question, especially in rural areas. But community radio is empowering rural women, as broadcasters and as listeners.

As I walked down the narrow road in a village in the Butwal region of Nepal, I looked around and all I could see were mud houses and women trying to finish one or the other tasks. It was not a new sight for me. It is a common sight in every nook and corner of India. And there I was, standing in the middle of the kuchcha road trying to ask women their experiences with Radio Mukti, a Community Radio station for women by women.

I recalled the day I was in a village in Orchha in the Bundelkhand region, same situation, same huts, different women, similar circumstances. This is a story made up of two stories; two levels where I found women participating in community radio (a local radio station, low power, medium reach, run mostly by a NGO or educational institute) in different capacities, struggling to find a space with limited prospects and unlimited challenges to face.

Picture this: a young girl aged 22 years struggles to move out of her comfort zone in order to create a space for herself in this big world. She describes her movement from being the rebel of the community to the idol many want to follow as one uphill task she undertook. It took her years but she loves what the movement brought to her. As a community broadcaster, she knew what the issues of the people around her were.

She was well aware of the struggles that were being faced at the local level. The community radio, she describes, “…came up as a ray of hope, for I wanted to do something and this was just the right platform.” When she came to work at the station, the community people taunted her for moving out of her house and going to work with men. The fact that she had no mother and she had the responsibility of brothers and sisters on her made her life tougher.

When she came to work at the station, the community people taunted her for moving out of her house and going to work with men.

She describes her daily routine thus: “I get up, cook for everyone, clean the house and then get out to work at the station. Earlier, no one valued what I was doing but when they heard my voice on the radio and saw me solving community problems, they started valuing my work. At home, I am the one bringing bread and outside, I am now recognized and respected. I struggled initially with technology and fieldwork but my passion made me persistent. The struggle in the past four years has been hard, but worth it. I feel confident and there is nothing that I am scared of now.”

As a community broadcaster, the Community Radio not only shaped her personality but her connection to the community people brought those grassroots issues to the table.

She is not just a story. She represents the story of many women I have met working in similar capacities at various radio stations, in India and in Nepal. The fact that women from different communities and villages are being represented in the media, their issues brought out, speaks for itself.  The names are varied, but the stories of women working in community radio have been similar.

The second story is a story of women at the listener level. My field visits tell me similar stories. I meet women in villages and slowly gather them for a discussion. In one of the visits in Gujarat, I can see how difficult it is for women to multi-task at home, in the farms, trying to accomplish any task left to their disposal. For me the challenge with women’s participation in media has always been ownership and access in homes to the technologies and access to mediums outside to take a stand and be a leader.

Women have always been the deprived gender. Even in the field of Media, the access and participation of women has been extremely limited. In the area of Community Radio, the issues of reach and ownership with respect to women have been challenged as it operates in the vicinity and movement is not a big question. While policies promote involvement of women in Community Radio, the reality is that it’s not as simple as it looks. Breaking the patriarchal shackles and stepping out of the mental walls is a task, which needs a lot of support and encouragement from a social perspective.

Breaking the patriarchal shackles and stepping out of the mental walls is a task, which needs a lot of support and encouragement from a social perspective.

Acting as a major information channel for women, a Community Radio station exists in their vicinity, is an immediate source of information, knowledge and at many instances hastens behavior change. It is interesting how every station that I have visited in India and Nepal includes at least one such woman broadcaster who has broken the shackles of the house, kept aside her challenges of literacy, has fought against all the barriers and has come out as a role model for women in the community.

She is the one who has moved beyond the unmarked yet known boundaries of the community territories, where she was once not even allowed to step out of the house. It’s an amazing sight – how technology has done what a lot of policies failed to do: include women.

With both men and women being keenly involved, I have always seen that the involvement of women has been beyond music and farming. They are the ones concerned about not just their children and the health of the house but are equally bothered about the rates of the vegetables they have grown, how to take care of animals, old age, health as well as issues of knowing their rights.

As a woman listener from one of the stations I visited remarked, “For us, the station is like the local activist who is not only giving us information and making us aware, but is also acting as a problem solver. Any issue we have, we call them and they give us information.. Sometimes, if we can’t go to the station, they come down and record our opinions and broadcast them…it’s empowering just listening to ourselves on the radio.”

For many who can’t read or write, or even understand any other language, the fact that the programmes a CR airs are made in their native language, by women like them, on issues that belong to them makes the station the sole source of information. One of the women from a station in rural Nepal once told me, “We don’t know what our rights are. Before the station came we did whatever was told to us, now we are trying to fight against wrong, we want to stand for ourselves and our children.” A community radio need not be all women, yet it reaches more women as they are the ones with access issues, to any form of technology, to any form of information.

Quoting Arundhati Roy, “There is no such thing as ‘voiceless’. There are only the ones deliberately silenced or preferably unheard”. I am a strong believer that through Community Radio as a medium of the masses in real, the idea of making the unheard come out and voice out their opinions is slowly coming to reality, especially for women.

This article was originally published at women' web by the author. 

Breaking the Culture of Silence in India

“I was a girl, now I am a woman, I came alone, I die alone.

People cried when I was born, when I die none will mourn.”

_________

Antim, 13 years old had not eaten properly since years. After all, she was a girl.  When she was born, the whole community had cried. Not tears of joy but of pain. After the torturous nine months that her mother had gone through, all everyone was expecting was to see the baby that would carry the family name ahead, bring joy to the community where having a baby girl was a sin. And when she came in, not only did the family-friends cried, the mother who had borne her in her uterus cried, from both her heart and her body. She was that’s why named Antim, which meant, the last one.

Her mother conceived almost as soon as she could again. And when her brother was born, that was the end of any happiness she could have seen in this world where patriarchy was the only rule that prevailed. While the whole crowd around her danced in joy, the pain she will have to go through was right in front of her, waiting to grab her like a demon. As she grew, she remained aloof of the basic joys of life: freedom, food and family. At 13, when she started menstruating for the first time, as confused as she was of the changes that were happening to her, she was unaware of the fact that now, the burden of being a woman had grabbed her, a burden she would have to deal with a smile on her face. No proper nutrition, thousand rules to abide by, and unaware of what she could have been, she was being trained to become a woman, a woman who her mother was, her grandmother was and may be her baby girl will be later.

Menstruation is a phenomenon that changes everything for a girl. As she dwindles with the body and emotional changes that happen to her, she is forced to take it as a curse instead of a blessing. On one hand where she can see her body change, on the other she sees how her curious mind is shut forever. Neither does her mother tell her what to do, nor does anybody else. Hygiene, nutrition, puberty, sex education are topics that are dusted under the carpet. As she grows, she realizes that she must have done sins to be born a woman.

______________

Suman, 23 years old sits beside me as we discuss the issues women face in the community. A look at her is enough to understand that though she smiles, she is empty inside. A mother to three girls, she has recently gone through her third abortion. In her six years of marriage, she has been pregnant almost always. With an expressionless face, she explains that somewhere women are born to live a life this way. The purpose of a woman coming on this earth is only to reproduce and so what she was going through seemed to her like a duty. Desires somewhere had died long ago, or maybe never existed at all.

She was married when she was 17 years old. A case of child marriage as she was, she had never seen her husband’s face, and so marriage was just another duty. In a small yet rich town of the most prosperous state of India, she came to her in-laws knowing the duties she was entitled to do. One of which was satisfying her husband in bed, another one being giving the family the heir, male heir. On one hand while she dwindled with expectations of the family growing every day for her to produce a baby boy, she was being cursed every day for failing to deliver. And so, one abortion after another she was loosing faith in her being able to fulfill her duty, failing to be the ideal woman she was defined to be since childhood. Droopy eyes with dark circles around, she was pregnant this time too and scared because soon she had to go through an ultrasound examination to know the sex of the baby. Little she know, its not she who defined the sex of the baby, biologically.  Suman as she was proudly named, which means a flower, had no meaning in her life because she wasn’t aware what blooming was all about.

Issues of Family Planning go way beyond the number of babies. It encompasses the awareness of contraception, rights to make that choice on using one, it entails the issues of Maternal and childcare, it entails patriarchy and control over bodies, involves issues of infection, HIV and Violence Against Women. It’s much more than contraception and incentives to get vasectomy or birth control.  The fact that even today women simply fail to say NO to their husbands and family pressures go beyond any government scheme or incentives given. The issue remains, of dialogue to move beyond ego issues of males related to condoms, of asking instead of forcing to have sex and reproduce.

_____________

Banwari, 55 years sat next to her granddaughter telling her how to cook as her mother went on the farm. She is greeted by the Nurse from the nearby Local health Clinic set up by the government asking her about the injection schedule for the baby boy just born. During the few minutes of conversation, she is tempted to ask her about the changes that she has been undergoing. She had been trying to ask her since months and so, after a lot of courage she shares her troubles. She goes on and describes a series of symptoms that she has been going through. Her knees have started to pain, she is having uneven periods.. the nurse tells her about Menopause but tries to explain to her how she should get herself tested for once. She shuns the idea, takes it as normal and shows her the door.

After two more months of pain and trouble, she wonders if she should have got those tests done. The local ayurveda doctor medicines didn’t work, neither did the priests prayers. The local community radio channel playing on the radio beside her grandson who lies there playing on the cot has the reporter discussing a similar problem. She is hesitant to discuss the issue with anyone, but after a lot of thinking she finally gathers the courage to call the doctor on the call-in show, happy that she isn’t sitting face to face with him. Being retold to get herself examined, she wonders if it was time to see a doctor.. silently, she gets back to her work. She looks at her grand daughter, maybe she sees in her a reflection of her own past. Named after Lord Krishna himself, she must show courage to handle all her pains.

While Menopause is a natural phenomenon, cervical cancers have been on a rise in the country of India. The fact that a woman would think a hundred times before she sees a doctor for a ‘personal’ problem that should not be spoken about to anyone, makes it evident that screening is slower even after awareness. Even today, when it comes to issues related to Maternal Health, Personal hygiene and Feminine care, women in rural India are just not ready to voice out their concerns, their fears. The will live in pain, as they have been trained to but never speak out, thereby remain voiceless.

_____________

These Three stories connect to the Culture of silence in India. Keep aside men. Keep aside social rituals. The fact that even a woman cannot easily talk to a woman about her troubles and get empathy in return makes it evident that even after 65 years of independence, women are crippled by social customs and age-old traditions to a level where they wont speak their desires out. Though systems of support outside family exist, the fact that the first connection should happen at home leaves them helpless. The culture of silence on issues of Menstruation, Maternal Health and Menopause have been there since ever, especially in Northern part of India. These three make women feel burdened of living and while she had faced the same in her childhood, she doesn’t easily take a step to fight for her daughter or daughter-in-law.

Privacy is good. But sometimes issues like these that are of common good, women good, need to be spoken out loud. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live” was a strong statement that Joan Didion had given long time ago. Such stories of pain and sorrow need to be spoken out loud in order to motivate women not to face troubles with a smile, but to voice out the issues they face, the pains they go through, the fears they live with.

What is the starting point?

“Starting a dialogue, maybe”

Studying Home Science? Get ready to break some stereotypes: Part 1

Just saw Queen- The movie? The protagonist is shown to be a Home Science Student! Too cliched to show that she is the one who knows nothing about reality. Here, I am breaking your glass to what a Home Science Student/ Professional can look like. But before I start, here are a few situations you need to go through before you get in depth with the daily-drama a Home Science student faces. Beware, as some of the stereotypes could be few even you indulge in, due to sheer lack of information.

Situation 1: Your (over) friendly relative

“So, beta, what are you studying?”

“ Uncle, am doing graduation in Home Science”

“ Arey, arey, achi bahu banegi (you would be a good daughter-in-law)”

----------

Situation 2: Your Old School Teacher

“ Home Science???????? Well, because everyone can’t be an engineer and doctor right??”

“Yes, everyone doesn’t want to be too”

“Didn’t get admission into Botany Hons or BSc General?”

----------

Situation 3: At the University Admin Section

“Arey, madam, you are from the Home Science Department right?”

“Yes, I am”

“ Still, so obese? We thought home science girls know about food well”

----------

Situation 4: At a Matrimonial Ad

“Wanted! Homely girl, beautiful and convent educated. Home Science Preferred”

“Damnit!” 

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Now That I have established a few situations that I have been a victim of, here I come down to describe how a career in Home Science has been one which I am so proud of. This is me right now: I can’t always cook the tastiest meals, but I do always know what is nutritious and what should not be eaten. I cant stitch the finest clothes but I do always know a great about fabrics, cuts, fashion and designing. I have little clue about managing home finance but I do have a lot of knowledge about investing my money in bonds and banks. I am a little too immature to have a baby right now, but I can manage 25 of them in a class, giving them the best for their cognitive growth. Last but most importantly, I am a not that much a social person as I am a social worker. My favorite topics of discussion are politics, literature, media, policy, grassroots development, gender issues, technology and yes, advocacy of almost anything and everything that is required to run a nation! I know how to make a documentary film from content to camera, how to design a political campaign, how environment issues need to be sorted logically and how doing a PhD in Community Radio is very different from being a Radio Jockey!

This is me! The ME that I owe my Home Science background to. When I joined a Bachelors  degree programme in Home Science at Delhi University, I was prepared for a up-hill task for not just becoming who I am, but also breaking few glasses, shattering few stereotypes. Looking back at the time many years ago when I started my First year at the college, I realize how little things have been a reason for shaping me overall today. Those ‘Human Development & Childhood Studies’ lectures in first year where we discussed the effect of Partition on adults and analyzed the movie Pinjar for gender effect shaped the critical thinker in me. Those ‘Fabric design’ classes where I was wondering why I would need to know about basics of stitching and my teacher had told me, “its not that you would do it, but when you make people do it for you, you would know its right or wrong” made the aspirations in me rise. Those sessions with the slum women teaching them on adult education and importance of learning for girls, made the girl in me transform into a woman, breaking the cocoon and flying like a butterfly. This has been the journey for not just me, but many others like me, specializing in Home Science, taking a field from the many options and making a career either in a United Nations office or as an entrepreneur, either in a Food Company or a corporate CSR office, either in a NGO office working on Human Rights or in a village far off doing an action project on transforming the Millennium Development Goals into reality on ground. This is us, the Home Scientist!

Over the years I have seen my friends, acquaintances, people I have randomly met and even professionals giving me the weird, aghast look when they hear that home science is not just cooking or stitching but global perspectives and behavior change. It has not been an easy journey. Even as educated and as aware people sitting in big international offices seem aloof to the idea of Home Science being so vast, wide and global yet local. As a home scientist, I am equipped to talk not just at the village level but function in an international office dealing with those village level issues because I am aware of the grassroots reality. I vividly remember those days I questioned why the course which teachers me such amazing realities and equips me to be a multi-tasker yet a specialist has been called Home Science. Today, I know that when a Home Scientist talks about Home, she feels the world is her home. When she talks about Science, she knows her arts and science linkages pretty well. She is out there for create that change, first in her own self before she goes to change the world.

And as I say this, I am not out there claiming that Home Science is the greatest profession of all. I am here, simply writing this down to make people realize that don’t judge the book by its cover and the course by its name. A little in-depth information can change the way we look at many things. As a woman, who has over the years taken a journey to reality, I feel that Home Science background has made me more grounded, more closer to realities, more creative, more free yet focused and more challenged, than I could have been in any other course that I would have opted for had I fallen in the Name Trap Game of this society.

Shut off what the schools taught on Home Science years and years ago. The world is changing; the education and life skills training courses are evolving faster than humans themselves are and so, before you go out their stamping a person on their head based on the field they come from or college they went to, dig deeper and understand. We are three sisters, all background in Home Science but having very different careers from each other. We as women know how to balance, home in the four walls and home that is limitless extension of our dreams and aspirations as a human, as a woman.

I have a thousand stories to tell, those heard and those unheard, those spoken and those not… but more on that later! This was just a peep into what a profession in Home Science can engulf generally. The limitless scope that it offers is hard to explain in one write up! But I would just end with a line that a professor had told me at a Conference where we were discussing Global Media Content and Journalism: “You are one of the most proud Home Scientist I have ever met!” Indeed I am. Because, I don’t want to fall in trap of the name, I want to shout out loud and create that ripple for a bigger broader wider change to happen!

Our journey after all as a woman doesn’t start or end with a degree or two. It is a process, a step-by-step process of developing from a girl to a woman to a human. My Current situation is this:

Situation 5: At a family function

"Beta, so what are you studying right now?"

" Traveling to villages and cities in US, Nepal, Sri Lanka & India for data collection of grassroots media looking at the policy, gender, impact on development indictors, global comparison."

" What? But i thought you did something in Home Science.. Did you change your field?"

"No Uncle, I am a proud Home Scientist, specializing in Development Communication & Social Work"

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