Eklavya’s Legacy

Illustration/Uday Mohite

Mere Papa meri Mummy ko bahut takleef dete the," said Rupinder', about 16, sharing private family horrors with my class, with a quietly defiant courage. "Agar mere husband mujhe takleef denge, toh main bhi usko mooh-tod jawab de sakti hoon (My father hurt my mother very much. If my husband treats me badly, I too can give him a ‘jaw-breaking' reply," she said, and the class - and I - roared in approval.

I was in Nagpur last week, where educationist Raju Kendre had invited me to conduct a workshop for his Eklavya India Foundation, mainly for students from Dalit and other historically marginalised communities. My class of about 70 students from across India, were 16-to-18-year-olds, who had finished Std 12, and were preparing for undergraduate entrance examinations in law, social sciences, economics, etc. They also have a Global Scholars Programme, and their students have got admission at top universities like Oxford, Cambridge, Yale, and Harvard. Founded in 2017, Eklavya India says it has trained 2000+ students, with 1500+ admitted to 80+ top universities.

I did a life skills workshop for them, with a mixture of things: I shared my life story; they shared their dreams and their superpowers. I discussed how to prepare for job interviews. I discussed marriage: why marry, what it costs; if they were to pay for their own marriage expenses, at what age can they marry, etc. They were a lively bunch, and had some real phatakas, the kind I'd never seen when I did similar classes for underprivileged students in Mumbai. Madhuri Rana, English faculty, told me, "These conversations are something no textbook teaches…raw, real and very much needed for their age."

While discussing marriage, I asked them if they are getting married, and to share why they are doing it. They were stumped: no one had ever thought about why. Then we discussed wedding expenses. Always, the number one wedding expense for such teenagers is "DJ". Yes, a disc jockey playing music. Other expenses were "random video shoot", food, hall and décor, and ghoda (horse, yes! Given how Dalit men are routinely attacked or murdered for riding a horse at their own wedding). Deep sigh! After they estimated their wedding would cost R10 lakh, Vaishali said, "Why waste so much money on a marriage, I will have a registered marriage instead," and I just gave her a big hug. Brava!

Knowing child marriages were common, I soon discovered Suresh, a Rajasthani teenage student, was married. After his father died, his mother forced him to marry: he was then 18, now he is 19. Not only is child marriage illegal (minimum age is 21 years for boys, 18 for girls), but "mere sapne choor choor ho gaye (my dreams were shattered to pieces)," he said. A number of students said their fathers beat up their mothers - another reason they didn't want to marry.

I also reminded the class that everything a boy can do, a girl can do just as well; a single woman can even adopt a child. I also gifted Raju Dada and the students The Rebel Girls' Handbook, with profiles of 300 extraordinary actual women worldwide.

Finally, a student asked me, "Madam, aap shaadi-shuda hain? (Madam, are you married?)"

"Pagal ho kya, main shaadi-shuda lagti hoon aapko? (Are you crazy, do I look married?)"

"Nahiiiiiin! (Noooooo!)"

The entire class chorused, as they burst into giggles, and realised there's a huge world out there of single women - 7.1 crore single women in India alone - who are independent, happy (many are) and don't have to ask anyone permission for anything. Hurrah!

'Student names have been changed to conceal identity

Meenakshi Shedde is India and South Asia Delegate to the Berlin International Film Festival, National Award-winning critic, curator to festivals worldwide and journalist.
Reach her at meenakshi.shedde@mid-day.com