Ananya: Survival to Success by Tarun Deep Girdher

fr om surv i va l t o su c c e s s

Government of India

Ministry of Women and Child Development

from survival to success Ananya was an inspired decision taken by the Ministry of Women and Child Development to document the journey of an Indian woman on the occasion of International Women’s Day this year—the 8th of March 2009. The celebration title as well as the celebration theme was finalized as Ananya: ‘Survival to Success Celebrate her Life’ after insightful, open-ended discussion and consultation with co-hosts and partners.

designed and produced by National Institute of Design (DIPP, Ministry of Commerce & Industry, Government of India), Ahmedabad for Ministry of Women and Child Development, Government of India, New Delhi. © 2009 all visuals, photographs and text, copyright of individual artists & authors, and national institute of design. first edition | 2009 | 100 copies

Ananya is a Sanskrit word which means ‘that which is incomparable,’ ‘matchless’ or ‘peerless.’ In talking about the successes of Indian women, we must remember that they have been accomplished against severe challenges, including some that begin even before they are born. Even today, in a nation that epitomises the concept of shakti, girl children face the risk of foeticide and infanticide. In fighting and winning this battle for survival and growth, the Indian woman has taken a step forward to redefine the parameters of her life and court success in a hundred spheres. The word, thus, connotes the inherent creative power of the Indian woman and thus, celebrates her strength and uniqueness. Ananya pays tribute to the Indian woman’s journey of challenge, endurance, hope, perseverance, determination and triumph. It also reflects the imperativeness of a new outlook towards women’s empowerment.

project head: Shilpa Das creative chief visualisers: Shilpa Das, Tarun Deep Girdher art director: Tarun Deep Girdher designer: Akhila Krishnan visualisation and content team: Shilpa Das, Tarun Deep Girdher, Akhila Krishnan calligraphy: Amit Kharsani design associate: Deepak M Mahavar student designer: Merryn John Tharakan cover design: Akhila Krishnan, Merryn John Tharakan, Pragya Mishra text narrative of mother and child: Shilpa Das, Akhila Krishnan text selection and editing: Shilpa Das, Akhila Krishnan, Rashmi Rajan translations of hindi text: Shilpa Das case studies: Akhila Krishnan, Shilpa Das, Rashmi Rajan

Government of India

Ministry of Women and Child Development

image image editing: Tarun Deep Girdher, Akhila Krishnan, Amit Kharsani, Deepak M Mahavar, Merryn John Tharakan, Shreyas R Krishnan, Pragya Mishra, Ankita Mukherjee, Anish Dasgupta photograph sourcing: Shilpa Das, Akhila Krishnan, Dr Deepak John Matthew scanning and digital imaging: Deepak M Mahavar production print supervision: Tarun Deep Girdher, Amit Kharsani printing: Patel Digitals, Ahmedabad binding: Bharat Patel, Amit Kharsani, Tarun Deep Girdher

iii

Government of India

Ministry of Women and Child Development

iii

preface The raison de être for this book, Ananya, is a deep inner realization of the primordial role of a woman as a nurturer of life and a harbinger of prosperity. This realization is drawn from the very nature and environment she lives in. A woman is akin to a large tree with widespread branches—life bearing, stately, giving shelter, spreading colour, fragrance and nourishment through its flowers and roots. So strong has been the acceptance of woman in this role that ancient cultures revered the female form as mother goddess, the goddess of fertility and more. However, we cannot deny the unfortunate fact that even among educated, informed and advanced sections of our society, we still discriminate against the girl child. Gender selective female foeticide continues to prevail; the number of girls is declining and choices are continually made against the girl child. The crux of the matter lies in how mothers-to-be have no choice in deciding the fate of their own daughters and are rendered voiceless. This situation has caused a great deal of anguish for the Ministry and hence, the thought emerged of bringing out a book with the theme of celebrating the Indian women “from survival to success.” In the book, an expecting mother conveys her thoughts and feelings to the unborn child– a daughter. She Talks about her fears, anxieties, and hopes to her child. The idea was to enable the readers as they turn the pages to let them share the mother’s thoughts, her expectations for the safe birth and future well being of the child and realize what empowerment really means in the context of the women of India. In expressing her anger, anguish and pain about the situation, the mother becomes both the protagonist and the activist. The choices she makes and the decisions she takes can make a

difference–whether the child is born at all. Thus, this book portrays the many successes and failures, trials and tribulations one woman faces throughout her life - female foeticide, infanticide, dowry, child marriage, rape, trafficking, domestic violence and discrimination. The book also talks of women’s empowerment and the successes they have achieved and they can achieve. In this manner, this publication reflects the Ministry’s concerns which cover a broad spectrum–holistic empowerment of women. More importantly, it invokes hope and confidence that women can make a difference to their lives to become truly and completely Ananya, the peerless. We in the MWCD have verbalized, vocalized and dared, battled for our budgets, ensured that funds were spent well, anticipating women’s needs - in workplaces, homes and other spheres. We have implemented Acts such as the Domestic Violence Act, activated protection of child rights and ensured constitutional provisions for protection of the child’s rights. The Ministry seeks to be the inspiration and symbolize the aspirations of women across the country, voicing concerns that have transgressed its scope and functioning, and made it venture into untrodden ways to bring about change. In all this, we have had unstinting and unwavering support of line Ministries and departments, voluntary organizations, international organizations and private partners through Corporate Social Responsibility. They have all lent perspective and balance to us in our work. It has been a long and eventful journey for all of us to reach here.

Ministry of Women and Child Development

‘a conversation between a mother-to-be and her unborn daughter’ This was the broad brief given by the Ministry of Women and Child Development (MWCD), Government of India, to the team from the National Institute of Design (NID). The idea was the brainchild of Honourable Minister (Independent Charge), Ms Renuka Chowdhury herself. It was communicated by Ms Vijayalakshmy K Gupta, Additional Secretary, MWCD to Mr Pradyumna Vyas, Director, NID.

ndia is a country of complex diversity.

This diversity manifests itself in terms of its language, dress, culture and its very geography. Therefore, her people would be of varied types too; their colours, their sizes, their very features. How do we then decide what is Indian? Who is the Indian woman? Can she be pinned down to just these two words? How would we tell the stories of the women of this land? These were just some of the questions that crossed the minds of the NID team when Ms Vijayalakshmy K Gupta and Ms Rimjhim Prasad from the MWCD first approached us with this project. It seemed overwhelming to do justice to the subject, especially in the limited time given. The book was to be released on International Women’s Day and the NID team had only 38 days to generate content, work on the design, put the text in place and print it.

Initially, the NID team was hesitant because time was scarce. But, somehow the concept fired the imaginations of the team members in the first meeting itself. It not only seemed terribly exciting, but at the same time, it was also a challenge worth taking up. After all, the team literally had a carte blanche to envision the book.

ho, if not the

Ministry and NID? Who would be able to understand and convey the nuances of the experiences of the women of this country, if not the people of this country themselves? This book would be a platform to share our stories and songs with each other, to share our hopes and our fears. For our grandmothers, mothers, sisters, daughters, aunts, nieces, cousins, friends and even strangers. For the team, this idea of personalizing and contextualizing the content, both visual as well as textual, became very important. We were also clear about ensuring the representation of a range of women from various religious faiths, economic classes, urban as well as rural areas, keeping in mind issues that come under the purview of the Ministry. We wanted to tell those extraordinary stories of ordinary women that are played out in our country everyday. We wanted to make these very stories inspirational and aspirational, so that they in turn could communicate positive messages and bring about change slowly but surely. Celebrity stories were out. The story of one woman was and is the story of all women. This was the take off point for the team working on the book.

Therefore, in the first meeting itself, the NID team proposed that the book follow the broad trajectory of a woman’s life and include issues that she may encounter at various stages. These issues, would however, be those that fell under the purview of the MWCD. In the next meeting at Delhi with the Honorable Minister and other officials from the Ministry, the team presented the broad theme of the book to include: pre-natal sex determination, female foeticide, female infanticide, health and nutrition of the girl child, education and literacy, economic empowerment, political participation, violence and subjugation of women, marginalized groups and their rehabilitation, to finally self help groups and other developments that would help women move towards living an equal, fulfilled and happy life. Thus, chronology was the key to the structure of the book, which would encompass the life of a girl child and her growth to adulthood and beyond. The Honorable Minister approved of this concept and the ball was set rolling. She said, “We women need not wait for destiny to change us; we should be the makers of our own destiny. In fact, we are our destiny”. Ms Manjula Krishnan, Economic Adviser, MWCD, also briefed the NID team on the issues concerned and shared valuable information about the Ministry’s approach and activities.

itself, the NID team had decided that the overall approach would be a rights-based one: ‘Right to know, Right to do.’ We wanted to be able to inform and educate people, not only about the realities faced by the Indian woman but also what the government had done for them. The theme of the book was: ‘From survival to success.’ These words set the tone of the book. We pegged our content and structure on four key words; ‘Survival’, ‘Welfare’, ‘Development’, and ‘Empowerment’. n early brainstorming sessions

ndia is a country of complex diversity.

ho, if not the

Woman is the companion of man, gifted with equal mental capacities.

She has the right to participate in very minutest detail in the activities of man and she has an equal right of freedom and liberty with him.

– M K Gandhi, 1933

that the girl child had to first survive in order to live a self-fulfilling life leading to her eventual success. Even if issues mentioned were seemingly negative, the final message in all cases would be a positive one about empowerment through the overcoming of difficulties. This scenario would enable us to integrate real life experiences into the text in a fluid and cohesive manner. Restraint and subtlety were our keywords to avoid going over the top and coming up with worn out and clichéd images on the issues covered. he critical issue was

The tone of the book had to avoid being preachy and yet not shy away from representing the range of socio-economic issues faced by Indian women. It was critical to avoid simplifying issues. Therefore, there is an extensive use of metaphors so that different readers can find different meanings. This endows the book with a certain depth and richness of content keeping in mind the fact that the primary target reader of the book will be officials from the Indian government and visiting overseas delegations.

In terms of the overarching narrative that links these diverse issues together, the Ministry suggested the concept of a mother conversing with her girl child, to evoke the metaphor of Mother Earth. This idea could bring forth the similarity of their situations. In addition, it could also evoke the positive consequences, that changes in the mother’s mindset could lead to. The team also felt that the relationship of the mother to a presumed unborn girl child enforced positive aspirations about wanting a girl child. This concept also has the underlying idea of nurturing and of shaping the world-view of the girl child and preparing her to face the battles ahead with confidence. Furthermore, the mother-child narrative serves as a link for the diverse issues in the book and provides continuity. In a sense, it is an apostrophic manner of address and that is how the narrative moves forward in space and time. The conversation between the mother and child is structured such that it provides spaces for the reader to pause and reflect, evoking an emotional response. Therefore, while the narrative structure is chronological, through this dialogue, the reader can enter the text at any point. At the same time, juxtaposition of contrasting ideas has been done throughout to add dramatic interest to the monologue. This main narrative also uses the idea of repetition, akin to Indian folk songs and poems. In terms of visuals and graphic design, therefore, the spreads are stand alone(s) and yet sequential.

NID team had, at the outset, felt that the book had to strike the

right balance between images and text, and had to depict rich visuals by way of drawings, photographs, artworks and collages. This in turn, would also endorse the idea of diversity that India stands for. The aim was for a multiplicity of styles and voices. This was true even in terms of the composition of the core team, which includes: a writer, critical theorist and educator; a film-maker and illustrator; a senior graphic designer, educator illustrator and publication veteran; a junior graphic designer; a calligrapher and a student of graphic design. This idea of multiplicity also enabled showcasing of NID work.

‘Ananya’, this book that you are holding in your hands. Its pages share not only the journey of one woman, but the journey that many women have undertaken and will now continue to take. As you move through these pages, we hope that you too, will join us on this path. he result is

And as we end, we would like to thank all those without whose help this project would not have been realized.

At the beginning of the project, a day long workshop was organized at NID. The participation of students, faculty members and their children, led to the generation of a large number of drawings, artwork, photographs and text. A careful process of selection and iteration followed; many students were asked to take their concepts forward, redraw, rewrite and refine the work to fit the way the book was visualized. Thousands of photographs were looked at: from NID archives and at the UNICEF office in New Delhi, which generously shared its visual database. After the final images were selected for inclusion, the team set about making the spreads of the book— designing and copy-editing. Time and again, the team reassessed the structure, discussed and debated every single decision that had been taken, to create not just a book, but a unified voice.

Woman is the companion of man, gifted with equal mental capacities.

She has the right to participate in very minutest detail in the activities of man and she has an equal right of freedom and liberty with him.

– M K Gandhi, 1933

NID team had, at the outset, felt that the book had to strike the

And as we end, we would like to thank all those without whose help this project would not have been realized.

Your presence is a fragrance of hope Your colours are the rainbow of my life. Even though you have not taken form, yet I know who you are.

With every passing moment, As you grow within me, I hope and dream for you. my child, my unborn,

Yes, I know you. My strength, my courage, my solace. Your tiny hands reach out to me already. I can hear your soft footfalls, As I await your arrival into this world. When will you come?

When will you come with your laughter with your wonder with your eyes so full of life? And I, the mother goddess Will bear you. I will be your protector And you will be mine.

my daughter.

I am waiting for you, my child, my determination, my daughter.

I will teach you to speak, and then you will tell me what I must say.

Where do I end, Where do you begin? my child, my unborn,

As I teach you to speak You will shape my destiny.

my daughter.

Can you hear the music of my heart? The happiness of my soul? It is the soul of life. A journey where I will lead And you will slowly Overtake me.

come, let me tell you my story so that you may find your own. 6

Your presence is a fragrance of hope Your colours are the rainbow of my life. Even though you have not taken form, yet I know who you are.

With every passing moment, As you grow within me, I hope and dream for you. my child, my unborn,

Yes, I know you. My strength, my courage, my solace. Your tiny hands reach out to me already. I can hear your soft footfalls, As I await your arrival into this world. When will you come?

When will you come with your laughter with your wonder with your eyes so full of life? And I, the mother goddess Will bear you. I will be your protector And you will be mine.

my daughter.

I am waiting for you, my child, my determination, my daughter.

I will teach you to speak, and then you will tell me what I must say.

Where do I end, Where do you begin? my child, my unborn,

As I teach you to speak You will shape my destiny.

my daughter.

Can you hear the music of my heart? The happiness of my soul? It is the soul of life. A journey where I will lead And you will slowly Overtake me.

come, let me tell you my story so that you may find your own. 6

When I was to be born, They told my mother She could not have me. ‘‘A daughter! A burden to the family.

How can a girl carry forward the family name? How can she take care of her parents? A girl is just ‘paraya dhan’ Never to be yours, always destined to be given away.

abort her!,” They said.

When I was to be born, They told my mother She could not have me. ‘‘A daughter! A burden to the family.

How can a girl carry forward the family name? How can she take care of her parents? A girl is just ‘paraya dhan’ Never to be yours, always destined to be given away.

abort her!,” They said.

My first feeling is of floating, A comfortable, warm inertia.

L et me See th e L i gh t

But you won’t let me be, will you?

So, I go someplace else,

I hear you. And you don’t sound happy.

A place where they let me be born.

You’ll make me go Before I’ve even arrived.

I wail and wail, Till I get my lungs full of air.

Please Let Me Be.

But before I can open my eyes,

Let Me See The Light.

I hear your angry voice again. I am not surprised, when engulfed in white; My lungs no more my own, are liquid lead.

O, Why Don’t You Let Me Be And Let Me See The Light?

My first feeling is of floating, A comfortable, warm inertia.

L et me See th e L i gh t

But you won’t let me be, will you?

So, I go someplace else,

I hear you. And you don’t sound happy.

A place where they let me be born.

You’ll make me go Before I’ve even arrived.

I wail and wail, Till I get my lungs full of air.

Please Let Me Be.

But before I can open my eyes,

Let Me See The Light.

I hear your angry voice again. I am not surprised, when engulfed in white; My lungs no more my own, are liquid lead.

O, Why Don’t You Let Me Be And Let Me See The Light?

Mother reasoned with them, She pleaded, She protested and said; “A woman’s body is her own, She alone must have the right to choose. My child is my child, never a boy or a girl.” She battled it out and stood her ground against all odds.

– munnavvar rana

She heard my plea, I was born. So in this way she is me And I am she. 12

Some got a house in their share or a shop \ I was the youngest at home: I got mother for my share \\ O darkness, look your face is black \ Mother opened her eyes; my home was flooded with light \\ She washes away my misdeeds like this: When mother is very angry, she starts crying \\

– munnavvar rana

She heard my plea, I was born. So in this way she is me And I am she. 12

And now my child, you will be born tooâ&#x20AC;Ś

You will be born As part of me. I will be you And you will be me.

I will look after myself For your sake. I will sleep to make you glow. I will dream to make you live.

I will feed you And shield you from duress.

I must bear your tender life So you can come from the stars And touch the skies.

I know that I have to give birth to a tender life \ But I have to live before she comes into the world \ I am pregnant \\ Regular rest, nutritious food and medical advice-thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s all I want \ It is my dream too that I bring forth a healthy child into this world \\

To better the lives of our children and our families, my daughter, we need to better womenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s lives.

Mothers and wives earn a living and nurture their families even as they raise happy children.

Mothers and wives bring love, care and warmth to families. Mothers and wives labour in the home.

â&#x20AC;&#x201C; sarojini naidu 18

As you grow up, I will watch over you. I will look after your every need. A happy childhood, good food, good health, adequate rest and care, the things you need to step into your future, these I promise you. I promise you all that you need to grow up and realise your potential.

I promise you all the things I did not have. Laughter, songs, books to read, Plans for the future, Unquestioning support, Confidence in you, The right to be an equal in family and society, The right to make your own decisions, to chart your own path,

All these I will give to you.

They told me Marriage was my only destiny, that I would never be an equal, I only needed to be a pale shadow to a man. Choice? There was no question of it. I had to do what They said. I had to yield. But I will make sure you live life on your own terms. They never let me go to school They never let me study. They told me my place was in the four walls of the house.

You will go to school, my daughter. So that your mind is opened to new worlds and new horizons, to new possibilities and dreams. So you can become All that you wish to be, and can be.

– amrita pritam The same breeze \ That played with me in its lap \ That gave birth to my mother’s mother’s mother \ Came running from somewhere \ And brought some letters in its hand \ And said: \ Don’t think these are small dark lines! \\ And speaking like this it moved on ahead \ May these lines be as old as you are \\

she sold them at the traffic lights \ those glossy paperbacks with promises of a perfect world

what an irony it was , i say

that she could not even read a single word

she sold them at the traffic lights \ those glossy paperbacks with promises of a perfect world

what an irony it was , i say

that she could not even read a single word

Let me tell you a story about a girl like you, and what her mother did for her. Neeti is in Class 5. When she grows up, she would like to be a teacher or a nurse, even a doctor maybe. Her mother, Yasoda works as a special nurse for the elderly by day, and in a hospital at night. She is a single mother. Neeti’s father does not live with them anymore. Yasoda works hard to support the education of her young daughter and son. But, life is still difficult. Kunal Sir is a 70 year old mechanic, who owns a fabrication workshop. He also runs a school called the Bhudarpura footpath school, where he teaches children who live in the slums, for free.

It is here that these three lives cross paths. Neeti attends this school and not only learns Mathematics and English, but also how to cook. Yasoda trusts Kunal Sir to take care of her daughter and to teach her. Kunal Sir believes in Neeti’s and other students’ potential. So he helps her fulfill her dreams. He says, “If you educate a girl, you educate a family. If you educate a boy, you just educate him alone.”

So my child, what can a woman not do when she is determined? What can a mother not do for her child’s future?

My daughter, Can you hear my thoughts? As you grow From girl to woman They will ask you

You will face this world. the life of a woman

is never made easy.

to see yourself

They will marry you

They will expect you

They will claim your body

as They see you:

to an old man if they could.

to always serve,

as their own,

a wife,

Sell you as a bride,

Never raise your voice,

violate it everywhere:

a daughter-in-law,

Sell you on the streets,

nor have reproach.

within the four walls

a mother.

And then abandon you.

and without.

Never a woman in her own right. As S hakti .

My daughter, Can you hear my thoughts? As you grow From girl to woman They will ask you

You will face this world. the life of a woman

is never made easy.

to see yourself

They will marry you

They will expect you

They will claim your body

as They see you:

to an old man if they could.

to always serve,

as their own,

a wife,

Sell you as a bride,

Never raise your voice,

violate it everywhere:

a daughter-in-law,

Sell you on the streets,

nor have reproach.

within the four walls

a mother.

And then abandon you.

and without.

Never a woman in her own right. As S hakti .

Father sat in the inner room, O Mother The money came in the afternoon, O Mother Just as life flows through me in earnest, O Mother All this money shall soon turn to coal, O Mother Under the pounder the paddy lies husked, O Mother There at the mandap sits the bald old man, O Mother As he walked bedecked with flowers, O Mother How he stumbled and fell on his knees, O Mother My father sits at the embellished mandap, O Mother With magic words he whispers in his ears, O Mother Mouth toothless, his gums all bare, O Mother How he sat and stared at the mandap, O Mother The fruit ripens even on the mountain top, O Mother But where is your honour, How can you place a flower on an old manâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s head, O Mother Not a bit of shame has that old man, O Mother He sits there at the mandap To be wedded, O my Mother Look at the bullocks he has tied to the door, O Mother, O Mother

â&#x20AC;&#x201C; oriya folk song 34

A woman has neither voice nor presence. I was told I had no choice save that of silence. So my child,

my unborn,

my daughter,

I wish for you the courage to be true to yourself, against all odds.

I wish for you the courage to speak your mind and the power to never let your spirit wither against all odds.

you, my daughter, will be invincible

A woman has neither voice nor presence. I was told I had no choice save that of silence. So my child,

my unborn,

my daughter,

I wish for you the courage to be true to yourself, against all odds.

I wish for you the courage to speak your mind and the power to never let your spirit wither against all odds.

you, my daughter, will be invincible

She sits there, a flower among flowers, Carrying so many dreams in her. Smiling joyously and shy, It is her wedding day-you see.

She sits there, bewildered, like a flower, Which is thrown about here and there in the wind, She looks at her husband, will he help me? He looks the other way and walks away sullenly.

Her father-in-law shouts at her, ‘Where is your father, where is the dowry he promised?’ Her mother-in-law yells at her, ‘Where is the dowry promised? No dowry, do not come near my son’, she says.

She lies there, a withered flower, It is days since she had food or water, She is locked in a room with no one to care, Her father has not brought dowry-you see.

– mithila kannan Her sister-in-law screams, ‘Where is the dowry? Without your dowry how will I get married?’ Her brother-in-law cries, ‘When will you bring dowry? Without your dowry, how will I get a seat in a college?’

Ravana abducted Seeta \ And someone set fire to Lanka \\ Today, when so many Sitas are being ill-treated \ Why have we forgotten to set fire to Lanka? \\ 38

She sits there, a flower among flowers, Carrying so many dreams in her. Smiling joyously and shy, It is her wedding day-you see.

She sits there, bewildered, like a flower, Which is thrown about here and there in the wind, She looks at her husband, will he help me? He looks the other way and walks away sullenly.

She lies there, a withered flower, It is days since she had food or water, She is locked in a room with no one to care, Her father has not brought dowry-you see.

Ravana abducted Seeta \ And someone set fire to Lanka \\ Today, when so many Sitas are being ill-treated \ Why have we forgotten to set fire to Lanka? \\ 38

Here is another story for you, my child Do remember it well On a simple board outside her office, painted in black and white, are the words, ‘Fatima Begum M Khan, B.Com, L.L.B (Advocate).’ Fatima herself is a young woman in her mid thirties with a serene yet strong face and a nononsense air about her. She divides her time between her practice and a women’s action group in Bapunagar, Ahmedabad where she provides her services. Here she meets many women: young and old, from different families and backgrounds. All of them have one thing in common: they are victims of domestic abuse. Fatima advises them about their rights and helps them decide what to do. She is sometimes their counselor, at others, literally their rescuer and always their friend. But do you know, Fatima was also a victim, just like them. After her nikaah, her husband began insulting her and her parents. He once dragged her out onto the street and beat her. Unable to stand the abuse, she returned to her mother’s house. She decided to put aside 40

her burqua and went back to college to study English. Only her mother supported her. Everyone else socially cut them off. Later, her husband apologized and asked her to return home. Much against her mother’s wishes she returned. But the moment she stepped back into his house, he slapped her. Even while she was pregnant, he continued beating her. Somehow she survived for 3 years, trying to make the marriage work. Then, she found the strength to finally leave. Her mother supported her studies by working as a tailor. Today, Fatima’s daughter would like to grow up and join the army. “That was the way it was in the whole neighborhood,” she says, “ If the women living next door got beaten by their husbands, the beatings were so bad, that I could hear the sounds of the brooms that they were beaten with, but never hear their cries…”

You see how important it is to stand up for yourself? To protest against injustice and violence meted out to you? You have the power to set things right in the course of your life… 41

Look at Lalitaben. Her husband does not contribute to the household. He does not really care for her or her

daughter, Muskaan, and is erratic in his

display of emotion. He doesn’t earn and doesn’t contribute to the household. All he does is loaf about with his friends.

Lalitaben is, therefore, the breadwinner of the family.

The couple used to fight all the time.

Lalitaben refuses to live with him anymore. Her in-laws and neighbours beseech her to

return. But why should she go? Will they be the ones facing her troubles? Her marriage has failed and she is trying for a divorce.

Her husband isn’t willing to give her one.

Lalitaben appreciates her independence.

In her community, that isn’t granted to a

married woman. Even so, it is easier for a married woman to live in her society. A

male figure is automatically a necessary

support and protection. Divorce is looked upon as a social stigma.

But why should it be so? Why can’t a

woman have the choice to stand up for

her own self esteem and dignity? She too

has a right to be happy and live a full life.

But it is very difficult too for a single woman to live in this society. Even if she musters a lot of courage, they will break her spirit. But if you face them once, they will not trouble you again. The moment you are scared, you are as good as dead. This is how it is.

Look at Lalitaben. Her husband does not contribute to the household. He does not really care for her or her

daughter, Muskaan, and is erratic in his

display of emotion. He doesn’t earn and doesn’t contribute to the household. All he does is loaf about with his friends.

Lalitaben is, therefore, the breadwinner of the family.

The couple used to fight all the time.

Lalitaben refuses to live with him anymore. Her in-laws and neighbours beseech her to

return. But why should she go? Will they be the ones facing her troubles? Her marriage has failed and she is trying for a divorce.

Her husband isn’t willing to give her one.

Lalitaben appreciates her independence.

In her community, that isn’t granted to a

married woman. Even so, it is easier for a married woman to live in her society. A

male figure is automatically a necessary

support and protection. Divorce is looked upon as a social stigma.

But why should it be so? Why can’t a

woman have the choice to stand up for

her own self esteem and dignity? She too

has a right to be happy and live a full life.

Look at this woman here. She lost her husband in the Orissa floods. She is all alone now. But she decided that she must stand on her own two feet. So she enrolled at a tailoring school funded by an NGO. She now has started her own business from home.

Look deep into her eyes and see her strength...

Perhaps I am some half forgotten page of memories \ That you wish to hide inside this thick book from the past… \ Everyday you turn the pages \ Everyday you cast a glance \ When with innumerable questions \ I stand in front of you everyday… \\ Scared, I withdraw into myself \ Scared that… \ You don’t tear me apart from your book,\ You don’t burn me in the fire of your wrath… \ This little corner is good \ But now I feel suffocated.. \\ Please don’t bury me in these alleys of the past \ I want to see this day \\ 46

I could have. But, I did not.

i am a woman with a disability

I chose to step forward.

I learnt to accept

I could have let

things I could

anguish break out

not change.

in ever widening concentric circles; break me down bone by bone tear by tear minute by minute.

I chose to step forward. I learnt to accept things I could not change.

I could have spent a lifetime wondering why; letting nights

I taught myself

to do everything

I knew I could

I take pride

They said

change the course

in who I am

I could not.

of my life.

in what I am and how.

consume my days. I could make of it

I could have been a fractured self: divisible and divided disembodied.

anything

I do not ask why.

I wanted.

I do not need to ask why.

My disability is just thatâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;

When life

a difference, certainly.

at daggerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s edge

But, why should it

pushed me

torment the spirits in

to the brink,

my people-tree?

I am glad I chose to be as I am. I chose to be me.

i am a woman with a disability. 48

I could have. But, I did not.

i am a woman with a disability

I chose to step forward.

I learnt to accept

I could have let

things I could

anguish break out

not change.

in ever widening concentric circles; break me down bone by bone tear by tear minute by minute.

I chose to step forward. I learnt to accept things I could not change.

I could have spent a lifetime wondering why; letting nights

I taught myself

to do everything

I knew I could

I take pride

They said

change the course

in who I am

I could not.

of my life.

in what I am and how.

consume my days. I could make of it

I could have been a fractured self: divisible and divided disembodied.

anything

I do not ask why.

I wanted.

I do not need to ask why.

My disability is just thatâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;

When life

a difference, certainly.

at daggerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s edge

But, why should it

pushed me

torment the spirits in

to the brink,

my people-tree?

I am glad I chose to be as I am. I chose to be me.

i am a woman with a disability. 48

By and large, the work of mothers and housewives is never ending.

that is why the woman is life. She is eternal.

By and large, the work of mothers and housewives is never ending.

that is why the woman is life. She is eternal.

the test for whether or not you can hold a job should not be the arrangement of your chromosomes. 52

â&#x20AC;&#x201C; bella savitsky abzug

the test for whether or not you can hold a job should not be the arrangement of your chromosomes. 52

â&#x20AC;&#x201C; bella savitsky abzug

The other day your aunt told me about a woman called Sunita. She is a working woman, but she assumes no stereotypical roles usually associated with women. She is a state transport bus driver. Look at her face and a thousand tales of hardship can be seen unfolding before oneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s eyes. Her difficulties began when she applied for a license in 1975. The RTO refused to provide her with one as the idea of a woman driving a heavy wagon was itself unimaginable for them.

But nothing could smother her determination. After eleven trials she got the heavy vehicle license. But this was just the beginning of her struggle. Oppositions arose on the home front and Sunita was boycotted from social gatherings for many years. But there was no stopping her and her endeavours. Once during the time she drove a smaller vehicle, a man tried to misbehave with her. She lost her temper, flung him out of the car and beat him up. As he was a senior officer, no action was taken against him, whereas she had to pay a price by losing her job. Sunita has even driven a sewage tanker. Even though the stench was hard to bear, she persevered because it allowed her to continue driving, which she loves. She says that when she drives, she gets the chance to go away to far off places and to be on her own.

See how she has faced all adversities and emerged a stronger woman.

Know, my child that you too must stand up not only for yourself but also for your sisters like she has... 55

See how she has faced all adversities and emerged a stronger woman.

Know, my child that you too must stand up not only for yourself but also for your sisters like she has... 55

You must stand up against those who will seek to use your body and break your spirit. You must speak out against them and not become a prisoner of silence.

â&#x20AC;&#x201C; nancy venable raine

You must stand up against those who will seek to use your body and break your spirit. You must speak out against them and not become a prisoner of silence.

â&#x20AC;&#x201C; nancy venable raine

Soft sunshine filters in through the window \ I… am sitting in my corner… \ In that corner of the window where with my eyes plays the sunlight… \\ Shadows form and distort… \ Things around me change… \ People change… \ They come and go. \\ They take much away with them… \ They leave little behind… \ Some things they enfold in their arms and take away… \ I sit and watch the sunshine fill me up with every colour \ Light damp sunshine filters in through the window… \\

â&#x20AC;&#x201C; faiz ahmed faiz

The pain will cease \ Do not grieve, do not grieve \\ Friends will return \ Do not grieve, do not grieve \\ Your heart will rest \ Do not grieve, do not grieve \\ Day will break \ Do not grieve, do not grieve \\ The present will brighten \ The night will fall \ Do not grieve, do not grieve \\ The night will change \ Do not grieve, do not grieve \\

â&#x20AC;&#x201C; faiz ahmed faiz

So, my child, my unborn, my daughter,

Do not fear.

See how far I have come in spite of all the obstacles placed in my path, in spite of all the anguish I faced. Bit by bit, step by step, day by day, I overcame them all. I triumphed.

So look to the light within you, Dazzle and dispel the dark. Be a beacon, To light the path for others.

You are You are You are You are You are

strength, hope, change. one, many.

So, my child, my unborn, my daughter,

Do not fear.

See how far I have come in spite of all the obstacles placed in my path, in spite of all the anguish I faced. Bit by bit, step by step, day by day, I overcame them all. I triumphed.

So look to the light within you, Dazzle and dispel the dark. Be a beacon, To light the path for others.

You are You are You are You are You are

strength, hope, change. one, many.

Remember my daughter, that on this path you will never be alone. There will always be others walking by your side. Like this little boy I met the other day. This is the story he told me about his sisters and him.

One day almost 30 years ago, Sanjay’s father

got a telegram at his railway office that said, “Wife in Labour. Take the first bus.” When

Sanjay and his father reached the village it was raining heavily. As soon as they entered Ajji’s

house, where his mother was recovering from

her delivery, the air was filled with silence. The celebrations were subdued, so Sanjay’s father understood that his wife had delivered a girl and not a boy. And he was thrilled.

Sanjay started looking for his siblings when his mother smiled and pointed towards the

courtyard, “We are a family of five, now!” He

walked out, and stood behind the bamboo tray, traditionally used to separate the grain from chaff, which held his siblings now. He had

always wanted a sister, and now he had two.

Aside from this, they were so attached to each other that they never did things alone. They Once his mother recovered, she and his sisters

came to live with Sanjay and his father. At the

time his father was earning Rs 600 a month at the Railway workshop, and managing all the children’s needs began to become difficult.

Sanjay and his sisters went to the same school, that was a five minute walk from their home.

would do each other’s homework; even their hand-writing was identical. Only when they were 15, did they start thinking differently. They began to argue, and have their own points of view.

Sanjay’s father says, “What we become boils down to the choices we make.”

He loved his identity as a brother of twins;

Today his daughters choose to fund his son’s

knew him because of this. The best part of

parents. They work 42 hours a week now. They

in his school of 3000 students, most children his school day was when he polished his

sisters’ shoes every morning. Though they

were identical, their choices were distinct. For instance, Savitha liked Cherry Blossom Wax polish and Saritha liked Kiwi liquid.

higher education, taking the burden off their are empowered enough to empower their

brother. But, when they come home once in

a while, they cook food choosing to give their mother some rest. Sanjay helps them cut

vegetables and crush some spices. And, when the food is served, he takes pride in the fact

that the same hands that coded the software that NASDAQ uses to run the US economy, prepared this delicious dinner.

So, you see? It is not just the man who supports the woman and the family.

Today, women work shoulder to shoulder with men and bear family responsibilities too. 65

So whether you choose to be and work at home, Or let your dreams take flight into the skies, I hope that you find what you are looking for.

I wish for you Happiness, Love, Peace and All success.

My child, My unborn, My daughter. 66

So whether you choose to be and work at home, Or let your dreams take flight into the skies, I hope that you find what you are looking for.

I wish for you Happiness, Love, Peace and All success.

My child, My unborn, My daughter. 66

The power to choose is yours. To have and to keep. One girl I know did just that. Her name was Mamta…

In the interiors of Orissa, where the Brah-

mins and Kayasthas, rule over the Dalits,

the sight of a Dalit girl going to college, is a

procession on the streets or even cremate their dead in the common cemetery.

matter of much hue and cry. So, people in

To make sure that these unwritten yet

shocked to see a Dalit girl not only going to

mutely, the Khandayats held a court of their

the village of Narsingpur were especially

a college to study, but also riding a cycle to reach there!

Eighteen-year-old, Mamta Nayak was the first Dalit girl from this village to pass

the matriculation exam. As if this was

unbreakable laws continued to be followed own, ironically enough on Independence Day, and passed the verdict that Mamta should discontinue her bicycle ride and

walk to the college, or better still, not go to college at all. What could Mamta do now?

not enough to enrage the authorities, she

Luckily for her, this incident made its way

her red-coloured bicycle, which she dotingly

Minister, Kalindi Bahera, expressed the

started pedalling her way to her college on named ‘Impact.’ How could she do this,

they asked? Laws had to be followed; laws that forbade the Dalits to use any kind of

footwear or mode of transport to cross the

village. They could not use the ambulance in case of emergency, take out a marriage

to Bhubaneswar, the capital of Orissa. The

Government’s intolerance against such acts of indiscrimination. A lady police officer

was deputed to escort Mamta to the college. This brought along a means of relief not only for Mamta but for the entire Dalit community at large.

Now no one can forget the courage that Mamta exhibited against the laws conjured from the past. She has served as a catalyst for several steps being taken towards the betterment of the Dalits in this region. She has brought about change.

The power to choose is yours. To have and to keep. One girl I know did just that. Her name was Mamtaâ&#x20AC;Ś

My daughter, do you remember Neeti and Kunal Sir? He had said that when you

educate a girl you educate an entire family.

Knowledge knows no age barriers. It is

be empowered, like Mamtaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s story tells us.

give up on your dreams, no matter what

And from there an entire community can

never too late to study, my child. Never happens. Time is always on your side, you just have to seize the day.

My daughter, do you remember Neeti and Kunal Sir? He had said that when you

educate a girl you educate an entire family.

Knowledge knows no age barriers. It is

be empowered, like Mamtaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s story tells us.

give up on your dreams, no matter what

And from there an entire community can

never too late to study, my child. Never happens. Time is always on your side, you just have to seize the day.

Look at Chanditaben Thakore. She is so spirited. Every morning she finishes the housework and cooking at home and then leaves for her mother’s house, just a short walk away. There she changes from her sari to what she calls her ‘suit’, a simple salwar kurta with a dupatta. Only after this does she leave for work, in a green moving van which has the words “Chanda Roadways” painted on it, in eye-catching yellow.

She is a driver by profession, and the van is her own. Moving many kinds of objects from paper to haystacks and even tyres around the city, she works alone, often loading and unloading her cargo with her own hands. She makes between Rs 200 to Rs 300 a day. Chandita first learnt to drive a loading rickshaw when she was around 8 years old. Her father had fallen ill, and the family needed someone to continue working in order to survive financially.

Now, many years later, she continues to drive, saying that she likes both her housework and her rickshaw equally. She even has plans to teach her daughter how to drive. But, not just for financial reasons. “…I get to see many new roads…” Chandita says. Perhaps she would like her daughter to see the same.

I too, have these dreams for you.

â&#x20AC;&#x201C; ratanbai, bhakti poet, gujarat

Do you know what a grain bank is, my daughter? In Borchapda, a village of Dungara Bheels in the interiors of the hills between Madhya Pradesh and Gujarat lives Amjiben. She is the leader of the grain bank.

This project is called ‘Moseti’ (the storage, in a local dialect) and aims at making the village self sustained. In this model, people don’t fall into the clutches of money lenders.

It is a fascinating concept. You produce your own grain and if you do not have enough, you take it from the community’s store. Then whenever you get more, you give it back with interest.

The small initiative by women to start a grain bank affects the oppressive rules of the global economy. Not only because it proves the power of collective effort but also because it fights against the strongly established system.

Women in the village run these banks themselves and frame the rules according to their living conditions and needs. In Amjiben’s village, where it is difficult to produce grain, women very enthusiastically started a grain bank, going by their own culture of community living.

So, when women come together, what can they not achieve?

This project is called ‘Moseti’ (the storage, in a local dialect) and aims at making the village self sustained. In this model, people don’t fall into the clutches of money lenders.

It is a fascinating concept. You produce your own grain and if you do not have enough, you take it from the community’s store. Then whenever you get more, you give it back with interest.

So, when women come together, what can they not achieve?

When women come together in fields, in village squares, in markets, in homes, in parks, or in offices

When women come together and speak, they talk about their hopes their dreams and concerns.

And however different they may be, they will find more to unite than to divide.

When women come together, my daughter What can they not achieve?

When women come together in fields, in village squares, in markets, in homes, in parks, or in offices

When women come together and speak, they talk about their hopes their dreams and concerns.

And however different they may be, they will find more to unite than to divide.

When women come together, my daughter What can they not achieve?

“whether in the villages or in the cities,

women face the same challenges

”

Let me tell you this last story, my daughter, about a young woman from a city, and how she blazed her own path. 1963 was the year Ambika Krishnan passed out of school. It was at this time too, that the college of Engineering in Delhi became an IIT (Indian Institute of Technology), and began admitting students on the basis of the JEE (Joint Entrance Exam). Ambika had never wanted to tread the beaten path and since she was fond of science subjects, she decided to do engineering. The JEE offered a good chance of being selected on merit. Therefore, she wrote the entrance exam to the best of her ability. As it happened, she did very well and could, therefore, assert herself over the choice of course and location amongst all the IIT’s. This, in turn, produced a dilemma for IIT -Delhi as they had no facilities for girls, and she was to be the first girl in the college. They offered her all sorts of inducements such as a scholarship to go to any other IIT, but she stood firm for her own rights under the system. In fact, her invitation letter for the interview said “Mr. Ambika!” The authorities concerned somehow missed the fact that she was a girl!

They finally gave in, and admitted one more girl (as Ambika was the only one) and managed to find some sort of accommodation, on the first floor of the teacher’s club. The first day of college was an eye opener as the authorities hadn’t even thought to provide for a toilet for the girls! Ambika met the director by chance and had to ask him why they forgot! The worst was Workshop Practice, where the supervisor told the girls not to ask for any assistance whatsoever as they didn’t want the boys to complain of favouritism. It was, of course, perfectly okay for the boys to ask for help, as they were new to it! Anyway, Ambika was pretty good in all the work shops and the supervisors all thawed eventually! She used to enjoy working with her hands and was particularly good at carpentry and at foundry, both requiring patience and a good steady hand, not mere muscle power.

Along the way, somewhere, the boys finally got used to the two girls and life became routine, but there were a few hiccups once in a while. After her B. Tech, Ambika sat for the GRE. Her own parents were not in the know, but she went at it doggedly, and did well. She was overjoyed when the State University at Wyoming, USA, offered her a full scholarship to do her MS degree. Her mother was stiffly opposed to this and they had a lot of differences about it. But her father was proud of her achievements, and supported her in all ways possible. She topped the class at Wyoming. Even before she graduated, she was offered a job in Chicago. She worked for a year, and did very well. It was only on her return to India that she faced prejudice on account of her sex, that too, in finding a design job! The stock answer was “but we have no women in our office!” However, that was only true of engineers, not of people in staff jobs such as receptionists, typists, secretaries, etc.!! The people who gave her that answer were really blissfully unaware of the irony of their statement!

She had to wait nearly a year, despite her excellent credentials, and use some amount of influence, all only to be given a chance to show what she could do. Ambika was finally called for an interview at a premier design company and was accepted as a Process Engineer. She was offered a much lower pay scale than others with lower qualifications, as she came to know later. Her hard work and perseverance paid off and she soon got several promotions. However, she always felt that she had to swim harder against the current, do that much more, be that much better, just because she was a woman in a man’s world!

She believes;

As long as we do not recognize and reward merit, without any prejudices, we as a country will not achieve much. “The best person for the job,” not “the best male or best female,” should be the rule. Biology should not come in the way of excellence.

“whether in the villages or in the cities,

women face the same challenges

”

She believes;

Have you heard my story, little one? Remember it well, for it is your story too.

When They place you on a pedestal and worship you, When They brand you as a witch and hound you, When such times come to pass, My words should be your guide.

My words and my life will remind you of all that I want you to be and of all that you will be, a woman, a person, an individual in your own right.

Have you heard my story, little one? Remember it well, for it is your story too.

When They place you on a pedestal and worship you, When They brand you as a witch and hound you, When such times come to pass, My words should be your guide.

My words and my life will remind you of all that I want you to be and of all that you will be, a woman, a person, an individual in your own right.

You are peerless without par, You are Ananya, my little one. Do not let these fetters bind you, Realise your destiny, It is always within your reach, For as you are one, So also you are many. This is my story, my precious. Remember it well, for it is your story too. But this tale does not end here, This is just its beginning. You will take a lifetime to add to its chapters, Tales of courage, of conviction, and of triumph. Then your daughter after you, And her daughter after her shall do the same and leave their marks upon the pages of history. In this way our stories will live on in one another for all time.

Credits

in alphabetical order and showing page numbers

Text Courtesy

Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Urdu poet of Pakistan, “Gham na Kar”, 60-61

Ratanbai, Bhakti poet from Gujarat, trans, Nita Ramaiya, “My Spinning Wheel is Dear to Me, My Sister”, from Women Writing in India I, eds. Susie Tharu and K. Lalita, Oxford University Press, 1993, 75

Gary Hampton, Photographer, London, caption of own photograph, 44

Sarojini Naidu, poet and freedom fighter, extract from “Palanquin Bearers”, 19

Gunjan Singh, NID alumna, Textile Design, “Ek Bhuli Bisri Yaad”, “Dhoop”, 47, 59

Shilpa Das, Faculty, Liberal Arts, NID, “I am a Woman with a Disability”, 48-49, 51

Jyotsna Mahapatra, translator, “O Mother, My Mother”, Oriya Folk Song, from Women Writing in India I, eds. Susie Tharu and K. Lalita, Oxford University Press, 1993, 35

Shilpa Das and Akhila Krishnan, Narrative of mother and child, 6-7, 9, 12, 14, 16, 17, 20, 22, 23, 28, 30-31, 36-37, 44, 56, 63, 67, 68-69 71, 78-79, 82-83, 85

Amrita Pritam, poet, “Akshar”, 24-25 Bella Savitsky Abzug, leader of the women’s movement, 52

M K Gandhi, 4 Marianne Williamson, spiritual activist, author, and lecturer, from “A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of a Course in Miracles”, 88 Mithila Kannan, Tamil Poet, 39 Munnavvar Rana, poet, Lucknow, from “Maa”, 13 Nancy Venable Raine, “After Silence: Rape and My Journey Back”, 1998, 57 Neelam Prabhugaonkar, PG student, Apparel Design and Merchandising, “At the Traffic Lights”, 26-27 Neha Shrimali, PG student, Graphic Design, NID, “Janu Hu”, 15

Shraddha Sakhalkar, PG student, Film and Video Communication, NID, “Let me See the Light”, 11

Case Studies

Photographs Courtesy

Illustrations Courtesy

The names of people in the case studies have been changed to protect their identity. (Those marked with * are based on student films produced by NID; listed in alphabetical order)

Ajit Pal, Film maker, 85

Akhila Krishnan, NID alumna, Film and Video Communication, 1, 14-15, 30-31, 32-33, 72-73, 83

Junuka Deshpande, NID alumna, Film and Video Communication, 76

Sukruti Jena, Std. 6 student, Prakash Higher Secondary School, Ahmedabad, 85

Amit Kumar Das, PG student, Animation Film Design, NID, 84

Kabini Amin, UG student, Animation Film Design, NID, 39

Anish Dasgupta, Foundation student, NID, 26-27, 72-73

Kaveri Gopalakrishnan, UG student, Animation Film Design, NID, 24-25, 72-73

Tarun Deep Girdher, Faculty, Graphic Design, NID, 34, 36, 44, 46-47, 60-61, 83

* Aastha Gohil, UG Film and Video student, NID, director, film, “Tran Eka Tran”, 2008 (theme: retaining girl child in school), 28-29 Geetha Krishnan, IIT alumna, (theme: urban women’s empowerment), 80-81 * Junuka Deshpande, NID alumna, Film and Video Communication, director, film, “Mosetti”, 2004 (theme: women and micro credit), 77 * Mridu Mehta, director, film, “A Family Story”, 2009 (theme: divorce), 42 India Today (19 Sept, 2005), rewritten by Rashmi Rajan, Sub-editor, Research and Publications, NID, (theme: dalit girl empowerment), 68 * Roopal Kewalya, director, film, “Udaan”, 2006 (theme: working woman and harassment), 54-55 * Roopal Kewalya, director, film, “Udaan”, 2006 (theme: woman running own business), 72 Sanjay Basavaraju, PG student, Graphic Design, “Doubly Lucky”, (theme: women supporting their families), 64-65 * Subhadra Ramaswamy, director, “Do Pehloo”, 2003 (theme: domestic violence), 41

Akhila Krishnan, NID alumna, Film and Video Communication, 54, 73, 74 Amit Sheokand, PG student, Photography Design, NID, 29, 58-59, Anisha Crasto, PG student, Photography Design, NID,32-33 Dr. Deepak John Mathew, Faculty, Photography Design, NID, 26-27, 28 Gary Hampton, Photographer, London, 21, 45, 84 India Today (19 Sept, 2005), 69 Junuka Deshpande, NID alumna, Film and Video Communication, 77 Merryn Tharakan, UG student, Graphic Design, NID, 68-69, 7071, 73, 78-79 Neelima Hasija, Faculty, Ceramic and Glass Design, NID, 89 Ruchita Madhok, NID alumna, Exhibition Design, 46-47, 52-53, 84 Sanjay Basavaraju, PG student, Graphic Design, NID, 64-65 Suruchi Dumpa, PG student, Photography Design, NID, 50 Tarun Deep Girdher, Faculty, Graphic Design, NID, 52, 75, 86, 88 UNICEF India— Ami Vitale-71 Gurinder Osan-51 Sephi Bergerson-87 Sondeep Shankar-16 Valjibhai Solanki, Photography Department, NID, 85

Anish Daolagupu, UG student, Animation Film Design, NID, 16-17 Ankita Mukherjee, UG student, Graphic Design, NID, 38, 85 Anusha Mohapatra, Std.4 student, Delhi Public School, Ahmedabad, 22-23, 84-85 Arun Prakash, PG student, Animation Film Design, 68-69, 84 Avinash Rajagopal, NID alumnus, Product Design, 48-49, 84 Ayush Rajvanshi, NID alumnus, Animation Film Design, 12-13 Dawameren Imchen, PG student, Animation Film Design, NID, iii Divyansh Girdher, Std.2 student, Delhi Public School, Ahmedabad, 67 Jasjyot Singh Hans, UG student, Animation Film Design, NID, 2425, 34-35, 40-41, 72-73, 85 Jaikar Marur, PG student, Animation Film Design, NID, 20, 55

Kavita Arvind, NID alumna, Film and Video Communication, 18-19 Krishnam Hasija, Std. 2 student, Riverside School, Ahmedabad, 66 Merryn Tharakan, UG student, Graphic Design, NID, 6-7, 29, 3637, 78-79, 82-83 Mridu Mehta, UG student, Graphic Design, NID, 42-43, 85 Mridusmita Nath, PG student, Graphic Design, NID, 54, 80 Navleen Kohli, NID alumna, Animation Film Design, 10-11, 84-85, 90 Niwesh Gurung, PG student, Animation Film Design, NID, 84 Priyanka Chhabra, PG student, Film and Video Communication, NID, 61, 62-63 Ruchita Madhok, NID alumna, Exhibition Design, 56-57 Sayantan Halder, NID alumnus, Animation Film Design, NID, 85 Sekhar Mukherjee, Faculty, Animation Film Design, NID, 84 Siddhartha Tripathi, UG student, Animation Film Design, NID, 50-51

Vijay Paul Punia, UG student, Animation Film Design, NID, 8-9 Calligraphy Courtesy Amit Kharsani, Calligrapher and Graphic Designer, NID, cover, 1, 13, 15, 19, 24-25, 38, 47, 60-61, 75, 88 Tarun Deep Girdher, Faculty, Graphic Design, NID, 57, 70, 73