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By:

Shoumojit Banerjee

27 August 2024 at 9:57:52 am

Classroom of Courage

In drought-scarred Maharashtra, a couple’s experiment in democratic schooling is turning child beggars into model citizens In the parched stretches of Maharashtra, from Solapur to the drought-hit villages of Marathwada, a modest social experiment has quietly unfolded for nearly two decades. It is neither a grand government scheme nor a corporate-backed charity. Since 2007, the Ajit Foundation, founded by Mahesh and Vinaya Nimbalkar, has worked with children living at the sharpest edges of...

Classroom of Courage

In drought-scarred Maharashtra, a couple’s experiment in democratic schooling is turning child beggars into model citizens In the parched stretches of Maharashtra, from Solapur to the drought-hit villages of Marathwada, a modest social experiment has quietly unfolded for nearly two decades. It is neither a grand government scheme nor a corporate-backed charity. Since 2007, the Ajit Foundation, founded by Mahesh and Vinaya Nimbalkar, has worked with children living at the sharpest edges of society in Maharashtra. The foundation has become a home for out-of-school children, those who have never enrolled, the children of migrant labourers and single parents, and those who scavenge at garbage dumps or drift between odd jobs. To call their foundation an “NGO” is to miss the point. Vinaya Nimbalkar describes it as a “democratic laboratory”, where education is not merely instruction but an initiation into citizenship. The couple were once government schoolteachers with the Solapur Zilla Parishad, leading stable lives. Yet what they witnessed unsettled them: children who had never held a pencil, begging at traffic signals or sorting refuse for a living. Prompted by this reality, the Nimbalkars resigned their jobs to work full-time for the education of such children. Leap of Faith They began modestly, teaching children in migrant settlements in Solapur and using their own salaries to pay small honorariums to activists. Funds soon ran dry, and volunteers drifted away. Forced out of their home because of their commitment to the cause, they started a one-room school where Vinaya, Mahesh, their infant son Srijan and forty children aged six to fourteen lived together as an unlikely family. The experiment later moved to Barshi in the Solapur district with support from Anandvan. Rural hardship, financial uncertainty and the pandemic repeatedly tested their resolve. At one stage, they assumed educational guardianship of nearly 200 children from families that survived by collecting scrap on the village outskirts. Eventually, the foundation relocated to Talegaon Dabhade near Pune, where it now runs a residential hostel. Twenty-five children currently live and study there. The numbers may seem modest, but the ambition is not. Democracy in Practice What distinguishes the Ajit Foundation is not only who it serves but also how it operates. Within its walls, democracy is practised through a Children’s Gram Panchayat and a miniature Municipal Council elected by the children themselves. Young candidates canvass, hold meetings and present their budgets. Children maintain accounts and share decisions about chores, activities and certain disciplinary matters. In a country where democratic culture is often reduced to voting, the foundation’s approach is quietly radical. It treats children from marginalised backgrounds as citizens in formation. The right to choose — whether to focus on sport, cooking, mathematics or cultural activities — is respected. “We try never to take away what is their own,” says Vinaya Nimbalkar. Rather than forcing every child into a uniform academic mould, individual abilities are encouraged. A boy skilled in daily calculations may not be pushed into hours of bookish study; a girl who excels in cooking may lead the kitchen team. For children who have known only precarity, standing for election, managing a budget or speaking at a meeting can be transformative. On International Women’s Day, the foundation seeks visibility not just for praise but for partnership. If you are inspired by their mission, consider supporting or collaborating—your involvement can help extend opportunities to more children in need.

The Three Lives of the Woman Voter

As household agency turns into electoral agency, women are redefining what Indian politics must answer to.

I grew up watching a pattern in my home. Every birthday or festival, my father would bring my mother a saree or a gift something he believed she would like. And without fail, she would wince. Not because she disliked the gift, but because she had never been asked. Her choice had been assumed for her. For years, she let it pass because life was full of bigger battles. When a woman is managing survival and holding a family’s stability together, her own preferences and aspirations are usually pushed aside.


But survival and stability don’t disappear the moment aspiration enters. Even when my mother began earning and finally had enough to spend on herself, I still saw that familiar irritation whenever her choices were overridden. Aspirational women do not rise above survival or stability; they carry all three layers at once. The definitions simply evolve. What begins as managing budgets, safety, meals and school fees gradually turns into claiming dignity, autonomy and the power to choose.


I remember the shift clearly. With her own income, my mother first shopped for her daughter, joyfully choosing things with intention. And somewhere in that act of deciding for someone she loved, she found her way back to choosing for herself. One day, she walked into a store, picked a saree she liked, paid for it, and walked home carrying not just a purchase but a quiet sense of authority. This was no rebellion but aspiration layered upon years of survival and stability.


Layered Reality

This layered reality is precisely the journey of the Indian woman voter. When India voted in 1951–52, women received equal voting rights from day one - a remarkable stance for a new republic. But society needed time to catch up. Nearly 80 million women were registered, yet close to 2.8 million had to be re-entered because they were listed not as individuals but as “wife of” or “daughter of.” On paper, women were citizens. In reality, they were still someone’s extension.


For decades, the number of women who voted was fewer than that of men. They were invoked as symbols of sacrifice and strength, but rarely treated as political individuals. It was the same dynamic I had grown up watching where women were trusted, depended upon, admired, but not asked.


There has been a shift, though, in the last fifteen years. Women began turning up in large numbers to cast their vote. By 2014, the gender gap in voting had nearly vanished. In 2019, women outvoted men. Not because politics suddenly became inspiring, but because it finally began responding to the everyday realities women negotiate.


Survival First

In the first phase, women voted for survival - toilets, LPG, water, bank accounts, and prohibition in some states. Whether these were policies or freebies misses the point. What mattered was that political parties finally got the needs right. Women voted not for handouts but for relief.


The next phase is stability - a need women have signalled for years but which politics still overlooks. Manifestos mention education and healthcare, yet the everyday systems women rely on, such as safe transport, lit streets and reliable public services, rarely attract concrete promises. No major party has treated this layer with real seriousness. Stability is not a luxury but the basic condition that allows women to work, move and imagine lives beyond survival. If survival has been addressed in parts, stability is the necessary next step.


Aspiration is beginning to take shape but only in places where women have tasted some stability. This is the most powerful and least understood phase. Women want mobility, education, jobs, dignity, identity, and representation, but aspiration cannot flourish without the safety, predictability, and everyday systems that make stepping out possible. Where stability exists, women are already voting for opportunity, and not just protection. When stability becomes a lived reality across the board, aspiration will no longer be selective but will be national.


Nowhere is this clearer than in Bihar which has witnessed a momentous poll result. A state often judged harshly has shown the rest of India what happens when women feel acknowledged. Bihar’s women voted in record numbers this time, often more than men. They decisively shaped the outcome.


Yet one contradiction remains. Women dominate the grassroots. Over 14.5 lakh women lead in panchayats across India, managing schools, budgets, development work and entire community ecosystems. But in Parliament, women make up just 13.6 percent. In most state assemblies, they hover around 9–10 percent. Why does leadership stall at the panchayat level?


Because aspiration needs room, and room is where the system still falls short. Higher political roles demand time, networks, mobility, finances, and freedom from constant scrutiny - areas where women still face the steepest barriers. We keep asking why there aren’t more women in leadership. The real question is: have we created the conditions that allow aspiration to rise?


Women have travelled from “my family must survive” to “my family should progress” to “I want to progress too.” That last shift is the quiet revolution already underway.


Maybe the most straightforward way to understand this moment is to return to my mother’s trajectory. She lived through all three layers - survival, stability, aspiration - not as steps but as overlapping realities. For years, she accepted choices made for her, irritated but silent. Then she found a little financial room. She first chose for her daughter. And then one day, she chose for herself. She walked into a store, picked a saree she liked, paid for it, and walked home with the reins in her hands.


That same quiet certainty is what you see in women who now walk to the polling booth and cast their vote not for gratitude but because choosing for themselves has finally become the most natural thing to do.

 

 (The author is a learning and development professional. Views personal.)

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