Thursday, June 18, 2026

PLANET ON A PLATE — AND A NATION ON THEIR SHOULDERS -The Real Ideal Indian Women: Activists, Scientists, Lawyers, Athletes, Journalists, Scholars, Innovators

 

PLANET ON A PLATE — AND A NATION ON THEIR SHOULDERS

The Real Ideal Indian Women: Activists, Scientists, Lawyers, Athletes, Journalists, Scholars, Innovators

Substack — Community Development ग्राम स्वराज | @akshat08

Supplementary Post: Roop Puja Series — Part 3



Dr. Vandana Shiva — physicist, ecologist, seed guardian, author, activist — presented here as the living embodiment of Annapurna Devi, the goddess of n


ourishment and sustenance. Behind her: a multi-armed goddess holding wisdom and power. In her hands: a bowl of rice — the planet on a plate. This image says everything that needs to be said about what an ideal Indian woman actually looks like.


In our last two posts, we examined:

Part 1Roop Puja and the political cult machinery that uses religion as a crisis-management tool — from thali-ghanta to "Radhe Radhe."

Part 2 — Four women projected by Hindutva as "ideal Indian women" — Uma Bharati, Sadhvi Ritambhara, Smriti Irani, Kangana Ranaut — and the political archetype each was made to serve.

Today, Part 3 — a correction, a restoration, a celebration.

Because the story of Indian womanhood is not the story of women who served a political project.

It is the story of women who changed the world.

And there are so many of them. So many that this post can only be a beginning.


She Who Feeds the Planet: Dr. Vandana Shiva

Let us begin where the image demands.

Dr. Vandana Shiva — born 1952, Dehradun — trained as a physicist at the University of Guelph and the University of Western Ontario. She could have had a comfortable academic career in theoretical physics.

Instead, she came home.

She came home to the forests of Uttarakhand where women were hugging trees to protect them from commercial felling — the Chipko Movement — and she understood something that no laboratory could teach: that ecology and justice are inseparable, and that the women of the Himalayan foothills understood this better than any government ministry.

She founded Navdanya — "Nine Seeds" — in 1987, a seed-saving movement that has now preserved over 5,000 varieties of crops, trained over 900,000 farmers, and established 150 community seed banks across India. When Monsanto and other agribusiness corporations tried to patent basmati rice, she fought back — and won. When the Green Revolution's monocultures were destroying the soil and the farmer, she documented it, named it, and proposed an alternative.

Her books — Staying Alive, Monocultures of the Mind, Who Really Feeds the World — are read in universities across six continents.

She has been called "the Gandhi of grain." The Right Livelihood Award (the "Alternative Nobel") recognised her in 1993.

Why is this image so powerful?

Because Annapurna — the goddess of nourishment, whose name means "she who is full of food" — does not hold a weapon. She holds a bowl. She holds a ladle. She feeds.

Vandana Shiva does not hold a weapon either. She holds seeds. She holds soil. She feeds a planet.

This is roop puja worth practising.


The Courtroom as Battlefield: Women Lawyers Who Shook the Law

Indira Jaising — The Conscience of the Constitution

Senior Advocate Indira Jaising has spent five decades doing what the Constitution promises but political power routinely denies: holding the state accountable.

She founded the Lawyers Collective, which has fought for the rights of women living with HIV/AIDS, the decriminalisation of Section 377, the rights of domestic workers, and against every government — regardless of party — that tried to silence dissent through legal weaponisation.

She has appeared in cases involving custodial torture, encounter killings, and the rights of minorities. She was the first woman to be designated Additional Solicitor General of India — the government's own senior law officer — and used that position to push for justice rather than power.

The state's response to her work? Criminal proceedings were initiated against her — a reminder that the most dangerous women in India are those who know the law better than the lawbreakers in power.

Karuna Nundy — Law as Liberation

Karuna Nundy represented the family of Jyoti Singh — Nirbhaya — in the Supreme Court, ensuring that her killers were brought to justice. She has argued for net neutrality, for the right to privacy (the landmark 2017 Puttaswamy judgment), and consistently positioned the law not as an instrument of privilege but as a tool of liberation.

She embodies what Indian womanhood can look like when it refuses both the "traditional" submissive role and the "powerful woman as political weapon" role — when it simply, stubbornly, brilliantly does its job.


Earth, Seeds, Rivers, and Sky: The Scientists and Ecologists

Dr. Tessy Thomas — "Missile Woman of India"

In a country where the image of a scientist is almost invariably male, Dr. Tessy Thomas became the first woman in India to head a missile project — the Agni-IV ballistic missile — and did so without pageantry, without controversy, without a political patron.

Born in Alappuzha, Kerala, she studied electrical engineering and later joined DRDO. She rose to become Director General of Aeronautical Systems — and became the most senior woman in India's defence research establishment.

She has said, simply: "Science does not discriminate."

Neither, apparently, does she.

Dr. Gagandeep Kang — India's Vaccine Guardian

Dr. Gagandeep Kang is a virologist and the first Indian woman to be elected a Fellow of the Royal Society (UK) — one of the world's most prestigious scientific honours, held by Newton, Darwin, and Einstein.

She has spent her career studying enteric diseases in Indian children — the invisible epidemic of diarrhoea and intestinal infection that kills more Indian children than any other cause and receives a fraction of the attention given to more dramatic diseases.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, she was one of the most authoritative and clear-headed scientific voices in India — consistently communicating evidence over politics, risk over reassurance, complexity over slogan.

She was passed over for the position of head of ICMR — reportedly because her scientific independence was considered inconvenient.

Of course it was.

Rohini Godbole — Particle Physicist at the Edge of the Universe

Professor Rohini Godbole of the Indian Institute of Science, Bengaluru, has spent her career working at the frontiers of particle physics — studying the structure of the proton, supersymmetry, and phenomena at particle colliders. She collaborated with CERN.

She has also spent decades fighting, with characteristic patience and evidence, for the inclusion of women in STEM — not through tokenism but through systemic change.

She once said: "The pipeline leaks at every stage." Her life's work has been fixing the pipe.


The Free Press: Journalists Who Would Not Be Silenced

Gauri Lankesh — Killed for Speaking

On 5 September 2017, Gauri Lankesh — journalist, editor, activist — was shot dead outside her home in Bengaluru. She was 55 years old.

She ran a Kannada tabloid called Gauri Lankesh Patrike that published investigative journalism, held the powerful accountable, and consistently defended the rights of minorities, Dalits, and those the mainstream media preferred to ignore.

Her killers were traced to a Hindutva network. Multiple accused have been convicted.

She is not a martyr in the sentimental sense. She is a standard — of what journalism can be when it refuses to be bought, co-opted, or silenced.

Her death produced one of the most powerful symbols of the Indian free press: hundreds of journalists holding up blank placards that said "I am Gauri."

Rana Ayyub — Journalism Under Fire

Rana Ayyub went undercover for eight months to expose the complicity of the Gujarat administration in the 2002 riots — resulting in her book Gujarat Files, which publishers were afraid to print and which she eventually self-published.

She has faced death threats, online abuse — including the harassment that followed her posts about the Ram Mandir inauguration — money laundering charges (later stayed by courts), and international surveillance by tools like Pegasus spyware.

She continues to write. She continues to speak. She has been silenced by no one.

Barkha Dutt — The War Correspondent and the Kargil Hills

Barkha Dutt reported from the Kargil War of 1999 while artillery shells fell around her — and her reporting brought the reality of that war into Indian living rooms with a immediacy that transformed television journalism.

She has subsequently reported from conflict zones across the world, covered the 26/11 Mumbai attacks in real time, and built an independent media platform (Mojo Story) when television news became inhospitable to journalism that asks questions.

She has been controversial. She has made mistakes and acknowledged them. She has also done more to define what Indian war correspondence looks like than almost anyone else.

Ravish Kumar — Wait, he's a man.

But his colleague Arfa Khanum Sherwani of The Wire has maintained the same standard of Hindi-language television journalism — asking the questions no one else asks, in the places where they need to be asked most.


The Playing Fields: Athletes Who Rewrote Possibility

P.T. Usha — The Payyoli Express

Pilavullakandi Thekkeparambil Usha — born 1964 in a small village in Malappuram, Kerala — came within one-hundredth of a second of an Olympic medal in the 1984 Los Angeles Games 400m hurdles. She finished fourth. The world saw it as a near-miss.

She saw it as a beginning.

She went on to win 4 gold medals at the 1986 Asian Games. She won 101 international medals. She became the benchmark for Indian women's athletics for a generation.

She now runs the Usha School of Athletics in Koyilandy — training the next generation of athletes with the same obsessive precision she brought to her own career.

In 2022, she was nominated to the Rajya Sabha. In her first speech, she spoke about the lack of sports infrastructure in India.

She has never stopped running.

Mary Kom — Six World Championships and a Mother

Mangte Chungneijang Mary Kom — born 1983 in Manipur — is a six-time World Amateur Boxing Champion, an Olympic bronze medallist, and the mother of three children.

She learned to box hiding it from her father, who thought it was no sport for a woman. She hid it until she was a national champion.

She comes from the Northeast — the part of India that the mainstream national narrative persistently marginalises. She has been the most internationally decorated Indian boxer, male or female. She has spoken about the racism she has faced within India from her own compatriots.

She is one of the greatest athletes this country has ever produced.

Mithali Raj — The Captain Who Built a Team

Mithali Raj played international cricket for 23 years, scored over 10,000 ODI runs — the highest by any woman in cricket history — and captained India to the Women's World Cup final in 2017.

She did all of this in an era when women's cricket received almost no infrastructure, almost no media coverage, and almost no money.

She built the team despite the system, not because of it.

Dipa Karmakar — The Produnova

Dipa Karmakar became the first Indian woman gymnast to compete at the Olympics (2016, Rio) — and came fourth in the vault final performing the Produnova, one of the most dangerous vault techniques in the world, which only a handful of gymnasts in history have attempted at the Olympic level.

She has flat feet — a condition that gymnastics coaches routinely use as a reason to reject a potential gymnast. She used it as a reason to work harder.


The Builders and Breakers: Businesswomen and Innovators

Kiran Mazumdar-Shaw — Built Biocon from a Garage

Kiran Mazumdar-Shaw started Biocon in 1978 in a garage in Bengaluru with a seed capital of ₹10,000. She had a degree in brewing from Australia and an idea about enzyme fermentation.

Today Biocon is India's largest biopharmaceutical company, developing affordable biosimilars — copies of expensive biological medicines — that make cancer treatment and diabetes management accessible to millions of people in developing countries who could not otherwise afford them.

She has been described as "the woman who made medicine affordable for the poor." She is worth several billion dollars and has pledged most of it to cancer research and education.

When she started, no bank would lend to a woman starting a pharmaceutical business.

They would now.

Falguni Nayar — Built a Billion at 49

Falguni Nayar spent 25 years as an investment banker, becoming managing director at Kotak Mahindra Capital. At the age of 49, she left to start Nykaa — a beauty and fashion e-commerce platform.

In 2021, Nykaa's IPO made her the wealthiest self-made female billionaire in India — and one of the first women founders to build a unicorn-to-IPO in India.

She started at the age when most people are told their entrepreneurial window has closed.

Rithu Raina — Engineering the Sky

Ritu Karidhal Srivastava — known as "Rocket Woman of India" — was the mission director of Mangalyaan (India's Mars Orbiter Mission, 2014) and mission director of Chandrayaan-2 (2019). She was part of a team that successfully put a spacecraft into Martian orbit on a budget smaller than the Hollywood film Gravity.

She has said: "Space is not a luxury. It is a necessity. And it belongs to everyone."


The Scholars Who Rebuilt Knowledge

Romila Thapar — History Against the Grain

Professor Romila Thapar — born 1931 — has spent seven decades transforming the writing of Indian history. Against colonial periodisation, against nationalist mythology, against Brahminical historiography — she has insisted, consistently and brilliantly, on primary sources, material evidence, and intellectual honesty.

In 2019, the Narendra Modi government attempted to appoint her as an "eminent historian" to the Indian Council of Historical Research — she rejected the nomination, refusing to legitimise what she considered a politically motivated attempt to co-opt scholarship.

She was 88 years old when she did this.

She is now 94. She is still writing.

Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak — The Question That Changed Theory

Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak — born in Kolkata in 1942, University Professor at Columbia University — wrote the essay Can the Subaltern Speak? (1988), which became one of the most influential pieces of critical theory in the last half-century.

The question she asked — whether the colonised, the dispossessed, the voiceless can actually make themselves heard within systems of power that were designed to exclude them — is as urgent today as it was in 1988.

She translated Derrida from French into English. She built a school in rural West Bengal. She commutes between Columbia University and a village where children had no education.

Aruna Roy — The Right to Know

Aruna Roy left the Indian Administrative Service to work with rag-pickers and labourers in rural Rajasthan.

She co-founded the Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan and led the movement that produced the Right to Information Act (2005) — arguably the most powerful democratic accountability tool that post-independence India has created.

She did this not from Delhi drawing rooms but from village jan sunwais (public hearings) where workers brought their wage records and demanded to know why the government's accounts didn't match the work done.

She is a practising politician of the deepest kind — one who builds power in the people, not over them.


The Women Who Held the State Accountable

Medha Patkar — The Narmada and the Nation

Medha Patkar has spent over three decades fighting the displacement of hundreds of thousands of tribal, Dalit, and fisher communities by large dams on the Narmada River.

She has fasted, marched, been arrested, been physically assaulted, had her movement dismissed as "anti-development" by governments of all parties.

The NBA (Narmada Bachao Andolan) she leads raised questions that every infrastructure project in India still has to answer: Who pays the cost? Who gets the benefit? Do those displaced have the right to be heard?

She asked those questions when it was genuinely dangerous to do so. She is still asking them.

Irom Sharmila — Sixteen Years

Irom Chanu Sharmila of Manipur began a hunger strike on 2 November 2000 — the day after 10 civilians were killed by the Assam Rifles at a bus stop in Malom.

She demanded the repeal of the Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act, which grants military personnel virtual immunity from prosecution for actions taken in "disturbed areas."

She was arrested, force-fed through a tube in her nose, kept in judicial custody for 16 years — because hunger striking was classified as an attempt to suicide.

She ended her fast in 2016. AFSPA has not been repealed.

But she made the world know what AFSPA is. She made 16 years of Indian government comfort impossible. She made the question permanent.


What All of These Women Share

Look at this list.

A particle physicist. A seed guardian. A boxer. A gymnast. A biopharmaceutical entrepreneur. A historian. A journalist killed for her work. An athlete who came fourth at the Olympics and built a school. A bureaucrat who left the IAS to fight for labourers' wages.

What do they share?

Not a political party. Not a religion. Not a caste. Not a patron.

They share:

Clarity of purpose that did not require anyone's permission. — Firmness of resolve that survived ridicule, poverty, physical danger, legal harassment, and political opposition. — Courage and conviction that was not performed for a camera but lived daily, in courtrooms, laboratories, fields, playing grounds, rivers, and prisons.

They transformed the image of Indian womanhood not by performing ideal womanhood but by refusing to perform it — and doing the work instead.


The Image That Began This Post

Let us come back to Dr. Vandana Shiva.

The AI-generated image that opens this post shows her standing in a garden, holding a bowl of rice, with a multi-armed goddess rising behind her.

The caption says: "Planet on a Plate. Embodiment of Annapurna Devi."

This image works — not because it is flattering, but because it is accurate.

Annapurna's domain is nourishment. Her power is not military. It is elemental. She feeds. She sustains. Without her, even Shiva himself — the destroyer, the meditator, the ascetic — goes hungry.

Vandana Shiva has spent her life arguing that food is power — that who controls the seed controls the farmer, who controls the farmer controls the nation, who controls the nation controls the future.

She has argued this against Monsanto, against the World Trade Organisation, against the Indian government's patent laws, against the Bill Gates Foundation's agricultural "philanthropy," against every institution that treats food as a commodity rather than a commons.

She has won some battles. She has lost others. She has not stopped.

This is what Annapurna looks like in 2026.

Not a goddess on a calendar. A woman in a garden with a bowl of rice and thirty years of evidence.


Postscript: The Women We Have Not Named

This post has named perhaps twenty women.

There are twenty thousand more.

Phoolan Devi — the "Bandit Queen" who became a Member of Parliament and was murdered for what she knew.

Nandita Das — filmmaker and activist who refused to let the cinema be a comfort zone.

Sudha Murthy — philanthropist, author, the moral compass of the Infosys Foundation, recently nominated to the Rajya Sabha and immediately the most independent voice in it.

Sania Mirza — who became the world's No. 1 doubles tennis player and did so while being told that tennis was not appropriate for a Muslim woman from Hyderabad.

Hima Das — "Dhing Express," who won five gold medals in international athletics within 19 days in 2019, who grew up in a farming family in Assam and ran on mud tracks.

Dr. Shantha — Dr. V. Shantharam, who built the Cancer Institute in Chennai and treated poor cancer patients free of charge for over 50 years.

Usha Uthup — who sang jazz, pop, and Indian folk in a saree and a bindi, in clubs where such things were not done, and became one of the most beloved voices in India.

These are the real faces of Indian womanhood.

Not the faces of those who burned a mosque. Not the faces of those who compared farmers' mothers to sex workers. Not the faces of those who received Padma awards for decades of hate speech.

These are the faces of the women who said:

"There is a problem. I am going to fix it."

And then did.


In Conclusion

Roop Puja — the worship of form — is a trap.

The form is beautiful. The form is inspiring. The form gives us something to hold onto when the world is confusing.

But the women in this post were not worshipped. They were not made into goddesses. They were not given haloes.

They were often obstructed, ridiculed, arrested, threatened, and marginalised.

And they kept going.

That is the real roop of Indian womanhood.

Not the roop that sits on a poster. The roop that goes back to work on Monday morning.


With respect and love, for every woman who kept going.


सबकुछ दिखता है। दृष्टि होनी चाहिए।

Everything is visible. One needs the vision to see it.


This post is part of the Roop Puja series on Community Development ग्राम स्वराज Substack (@akshat08).

Part 1: Roop / Murti Puja — and the shape-shifter who wears a new religious face at every crisis Part 2: Four Women of Hindutva — the archetypes and what they conceal Part 3: This post.


Jai Bhim. Jai Samvidhan. Jai Vigyan. Long live the Constitution. Long live Science. Long live Truth.

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