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By:

Anusreeta Dutta

26 April 2026 at 1:22:24 pm

Forgotten Heroines, Living Injustice

The neglect of Bengal’s women revolutionaries mirrors a deeper failure to uphold the dignity and rights of women in the state today. Matangini Hazra featured on an Indian Stamp Bengali women have played a decisive role in shaping movements of resistance, reform and revolution throughout India’s long and complex history. Their contributions have been profound and transformative, from the anti-colonial struggle to social reform movements. But in modern narratives, these contributions are often...

Forgotten Heroines, Living Injustice

The neglect of Bengal’s women revolutionaries mirrors a deeper failure to uphold the dignity and rights of women in the state today. Matangini Hazra featured on an Indian Stamp Bengali women have played a decisive role in shaping movements of resistance, reform and revolution throughout India’s long and complex history. Their contributions have been profound and transformative, from the anti-colonial struggle to social reform movements. But in modern narratives, these contributions are often overshadowed, diluted or erased. More disturbing still are the continuing social stigmas that marginalise women, especially in rural and vulnerable communities, through accusations of black magic and witchcraft. This double injustice reflects a greater contradiction in society: a nation that once depended on its women's bravery is now unable to protect their dignity. Grim Reality Branding women as practitioners of black magic is not some archaic superstition of the past. That is the grim reality in parts of Bengal and throughout eastern India. Women, especially widows, the elderly and those living alone, are particularly vulnerable. Such accusations are rarely driven by sincere belief alone, but are often tools of control, fuelled by disputes over property, personal vendettas or deeply ingrained patriarchal norms. Women who assert their independence, question authority or simply exist outside prescribed social roles are easy targets. Once marked, they suffer terrible consequences: public humiliation, physical violence, social ostracism and, in extreme cases, death. This is a manifestation of systemic gender injustice. It exposes the latent misogyny embedded in social institutions, often cloaked as cultural or traditional belief. The society that once deified women as icons of strength and sacrifice now dehumanises them. The contradiction is jarring and disturbing, raising important questions about the values that underpin modern social attitudes. Compounding this ongoing injustice is the gradual erasure of Bengali women’s contribution to India's freedom struggle. Figures such as Matangini Hazra, who fearlessly marched with the national flag and was shot dead by the British while chanting “Vande Mataram,” and Pritilata Waddedar, who led an armed attack on colonial establishments and chose martyrdom over capture, rarely receive the recognition they deserve. Kalpana Dutta, Bina Das and hundreds of unnamed women risked their lives, endured imprisonment and sacrificed everything for the cause of independence. These women were not merely passive participants or symbolic figures, but leaders, strategists and revolutionaries. They worked within and beyond the constraints of their time, challenging both colonial authority and patriarchal norms. They were not supporting actors but played an essential role in shaping the direction and intensity of the freedom movement. Their bravery was not only inspirational but radical and transformative, expanding the very possibilities for women’s participation in public life. Memories Erased Yet today, their stories are disappearing from textbooks, public debate and national memory. Their exclusion from the mainstream historical narrative is part of a broader pattern of marginalising women's contributions. While male leaders are memorialised through statues, institutions and collective memory, many of these women remain confined to footnotes or local remembrance. This selective remembrance is not accidental but reflects a historical narrative that continues to privilege certain voices over others. The contrast between past and present is deeply unsettling. Bengal has a proud tradition of women who fought courageously against injustice and oppression. Yet many women today continue to be humiliated, violated and marginalised through false accusations and systemic neglect. This disconnect reveals how far society has drifted from the values it once claimed to uphold. Pritilata Wadeddar When the stories of these women are erased, society loses powerful examples of resilience and agency. Young people are growing up without seeing role models who look like them or come from where they come from. The invisibility of women’s contributions reinforces the notion that their work is secondary or inconsequential, perpetuating cycles of inequality and exclusion. Addressing this requires more than token recognition. It demands a conscious and sustained effort to restore Bengali women to their rightful place in India’s historical and cultural imagination. Educational curricula must incorporate their stories in a meaningful and comprehensive manner. Public spaces should celebrate their legacy through monuments, museums and commemorations that are widely accessible. The media and cultural institutions must also bring these stories to a wider audience. Urgent measures are also needed to end the continuing violence against women accused of witchcraft. Existing laws must be enforced more effectively and strengthened where necessary to protect vulnerable individuals. Community-level awareness campaigns can help dispel harmful beliefs and promote critical thinking. Grassroots interventions, led by local leaders and civil society organisations, are essential to dismantle the structures that allow such practices to persist. But legal and institutional measures alone will not suffice. Society itself must undergo a change in mindset. Women must be regarded as individuals with rights, dignity and agency, not as suspects or objects of control. We must recognise and honour in the present the same courage and determination displayed by Bengali women during the freedom struggle. India cannot claim to respect its past while remaining indifferent to the injustices of the present. Bengali women’s voices helped shape India’s path to freedom and continue to influence its social fabric. Now is the time to hear those voices again - not as faint echoes from a distant past, but as powerful reminders of what justice, courage and dignity truly mean today. (The writer is a columnist with experience in political research analysis. Views personal.)

Honouring Ancestors: Halloween in America vs Shraddha in India

Updated: Jan 13, 2025

Part Seven

The ‘ghosts’ blindly emulating Western traditions are far more unsettling than the spectral figures of Halloween.

Honouring Ancestors

The world celebrates Halloween on the 31st of October, but I have always pondered: how can it truly be regarded as a festival? In my culture, we have a deeply rooted and rich tradition of honouring our ancestors through various meaningful rituals. For instance, we celebrate Ganpati with immense enthusiasm and vibrant fanfare, and we also observe Pitru Paksha, a sacred fortnight specifically dedicated to paying homage to our forebears. As part of this, we perform Shraddha, a solemn and significant ritual to honour our departed ancestors with the utmost sincerity and reverence. Furthermore, we continue to remember our loved ones through annual, monthly, and tarpan rituals, which hold profound significance in keeping their memories alive.


In contrast, I have observed that in America, England, and Europe, Halloween serves as a time to remember ancestors, albeit in a markedly different and distinct manner. Since relocating to America, I have noticed that malls and shops start preparing for Halloween as early as the very first week of October. People celebrate the occasion with tremendous enthusiasm and excitement throughout the month, decorating their homes and surroundings with eerie, ghostly decorations and hosting elaborate costume parties to mark the festivities.


The way Americans and people around the world commemorate their ancestors during Halloween is undeniably impressive. Everyone, from young children to senior citizens, interacts with the concept of ghosts in various creative and engaging ways. Unlike in India, where there is often an inherent fear of ghosts, and they are typically associated with rural areas, in America, ghosts are everywhere. They are not only part of folklore but also feature prominently in urban settings—appearing in hotels, malls, shops, and even on people’s clothing, such as shirts.


These communities remember their ancestors with remarkable enthusiasm, spending lavishly on lighting, decorations, and festivities, in a manner somewhat akin to how we celebrate Ganpati and Diwali in India. I estimate that Halloween generates an astonishing revenue of around $50 billion to $100 billion annually. Although the festival has been heavily commercialised, I must acknowledge that their marketing strategies are nothing short of remarkable.


In America, there is no fuss surrounding Shraddha rituals, crows, or Pind Daan. Instead, they celebrate Halloween with lively parties, drinks, and revelry, which, in their own unique way, might even help them forge a connection with their ancestors. Unlike the Shraddha rituals in India, there is no overcrowding at sacred sites or pollution of rivers caused by ritualistic practices. I find the concept of Halloween both fascinating and thought-provoking, and I am particularly intrigued by America’s remarkable ability to globalise and market almost any idea with great success.


Halloween has gained significant popularity in India, especially among the younger generation. However, while many Indians embrace Halloween without truly understanding its cultural significance, it is vital to remember that the Western way of life is not inherently superior. Even more concerning is the increasing trend of commercialising festivals and the uncritical adoption of Western traditions, which risks eroding the uniqueness of our cultural heritage.


I must confess that I find the metaphorical “ghosts”—those who unthinkingly emulate Western traditions—far more unsettling than the spectral ones celebrated during Halloween.


Countries like America and those in Europe consistently show appreciation for the contributions, whether small or significant, made by their ancestors. They honour and cherish their predecessors, take immense pride in them, and even, at times, justify the wrongdoings and atrocities committed in the past. In essence, they never disown their ancestors; instead, they remain eternally indebted to them. This mindset extends to their sense of national pride. They are invariably proud of their country and steadfastly loyal, never turning their backs on it.


Whether or not our people choose to celebrate Sarvapitri Amavasya, my concern lies elsewhere. If festivals like Halloween contribute to a diminishing sense of pride and respect for our cultural heritage or foster an attitude of disowning our identity and nation, then, perhaps, I too would prefer to take on the guise of a ghost.


(The author is a director of a company. He has travelled extensively across India and overseas.)

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