ThinkHer

In the decades following independence, science was a necessity for nation-building. It was seen as a strategic tool—science for defence, to secure sovereignty in a fragile geopolitical landscape; science for progress, to modernise agriculture, industry, and infrastructure; science for social well-being, to combat disease, hunger, and poverty; and science for economic growth, to reduce dependence on imports and build indigenous capability. But, at the same time, science was still nascent. The Department of Science and Technology under the Government was yet to come, and the Council of Scientific & Industrial Research (CSIR) was in the formative stage. Laboratories were few, resources were scarce, and institutional support for scientific inquiry was limited.  Science also occupied a complicated moral and political space. It was expected to be modern yet rooted, universal yet national, progressive yet attentive to indigenous traditions. Scientists stood at the intersection of...

My first encounter with the concept of ecofeminism was during my bachelor’s degree, in an English literature elective. Until then, my ideas of feminism, environmental questions, and scientific debates sat in separate compartments—each treated as though it belonged to a different intellectual world. But the day we read Vandana Shiva’s work as part of the English coursework, ecofeminism offered a language that pulled these strands together. It argued that the exploitation of nature and the oppression of women were not distinct injustices but expressions of the same systems of power—structures built on extraction, hierarchy, and the devaluation of labour and knowledge. As I read and wrote more about gender, politics, and science over the years, the depth of those connections became clearer. Ecofeminism did not merely place women and the environment side by side; it revealed how deeply intertwined our social, political, ecological, and scientific worlds are. What happens to land is insepar...

Haimabati Sen, born Haimabati Ghosh, was among the earliest female physicians in colonial India. A woman who transformed her unimaginable early trauma into a lifelong mission of healing and social change. Her life embodies resilience, quiet courage, and a refusal to accept the limitations imposed on women of her time. Haimabati was born in 1866 in the Khulna district of the then Bengal Presidency, into a Kulin Kayastha zamindar family. Her father, a zamindar, was unusually liberal for his time — he allowed her to wear male attire and to study alongside her male cousins, a rare privilege for a girl in that era. Y et, societal norms prevailed. At the mere age of nine, she was married off to a 45-year-old widower and Deputy Magistrate with two daughters nearly her own age.  Her husband’s behaviour exposed her, at a very young age, to unsettling and sexually abusive circumstances. He forced himself on her, leaving her frightened and still — “like a piece of wood,” she later wrote....

Most people imagine that the choice of what to study springs from personal passion — a love for numbers, ideas, or discovery. But history shows that this decision is rarely untouched by the politics and economics of the time. Across the world, waves of educational enthusiasm have mirrored national priorities and market demands. During the Cold War, for instance, government funding for defense and space research triggered a surge in students choosing physics and engineering, seen as patriotic and prestigious. In contrast, the 1990s and 2000s saw the rise of finance, management, and computer science, reflecting globalization and the digital economy’s pull toward data, coding, and markets. Every generation’s “hot field” is a mirror of its moment and is defined as much by geopolitics and money as by intellectual curiosity.   Against this backdrop, veterinary science seems to stand apart — often seen as a field chosen out of personal affection for animals rather than political or e...

As writers who tries to look into history, we quickly realise that history is rarely a clean ledger of facts. Ancient worlds reach us through overlapping strata of storytelling—scripture, oral traditions, commentary, and later retellings—where myth and history entwine so tightly that disentangling them seems almost futile. As non-historians, we generally lean on secondary sources: essays, translations, interpretations—texts that carry the imaginations, assumptions, and blind spots of their authors. Verification is often impossible; what survives is less a mirror of the past than a mosaic of belief, speculation, and silence. Gargi Vachaknavi is exactly such a figure: part-philosopher, part-myth, wholly inspiring. Illustration of Gargi Vachaknavi made using ChatGPT Roughly dated to between   800 and 500 BCE , Gargi is said to have been born into the lineage of sage Vachaknu and named after the earlier sage Garga. She is often honored with the title   Brahmavadini   (one who...

In today's society, teaching is often a preferred profession for women as it is perceived to have a work-life balance. Additionally, it also doesn't threaten the traditional gender roles of nurturing and caregiving. But in 1848, when Savitribai Phule, India's first female teacher, took up teaching, she was stepping into something dangerous. She was threatened and attacked not just for teaching but for daring to teach those who weren't supposed to learn. Savitribai Phule was born on  3rd January 1831 in Naigaon, Maharashtra. These were the times when access to learning was restricted by gender and caste. Patriarchal customs, incorrect religious interpretations, and colonialism ensured that access to education rested in the hands of a few men. Savitribai, along with her husband Jyotirao Phule, challenged every institution-family, patriarchy,  religion, custom, and state that denied education for all. At the age of 9, Savitribai married 13-year-old Jyotirao Phule and moved...

In the early 1900s, the subatomic world was full of mystery, invisible forces, and unanswered questions. Scientists were drawn towards this invisible drama. However, only a few had the courage and determination to explore these unknown worlds and unravel their mysteries for people like us. Bibha Chowdhuri was one such scientist who pioneered the study of cosmic rays, the high-speed space bullets that crash into Earth's atmosphere. Bibha means 'light' in Bengali. In both name and nature, Bibha was a radiant force in Indian science. Born in Kolkata in 1913 to Banku Bihari Chowdhuri, a doctor, and Urmila Devi, Bibha was the third child in a family of six children. She was encouraged to pursue education at a time when few women entered science. In 1936, she earned her M.Sc. in Physics from the University of Calcutta—the only woman in her batch. Her academic excellence naturally led her to the field of research. Made on Canva @ThinkHer Although she reached the doorstep of resear...

Microfeminist actions often emerge as responses to daily frictions—small slights, subtle exclusions, and invisible burdens that compound over time. Take the workplace, for instance. A recent study shows that 40% of women reported experiencing microaggressions, harassment, or both at work in the past year [1]. Paired with the unequal load of domestic responsibilities, these experiences create a constant undercurrent of inequality. For many, microfeminist acts are a way to push back against these imbalances, to claim space, and to foster dignity in places that rarely offer it freely [2].  We tried to understand why our respondents chose these acts of microfeminism, hence we asked the question "   What motivates you to do these acts ?" Made in Canva We came to realise that for many, microfeminist acts arise from a deep frustration with how society continues to downplay women's authority, intelligence, and autonomy.   “It’s normalized for men to give their opinions ...

I first came across the term microfeminism while scrolling through Instagram reels. Microfeminism is all about the subtle, everyday choices we make that push back against ingrained gender biases and create more equitable spaces [1]. These acts may appear small—inviting women to speak first in meetings, or confidently taking space in public—but they carry the weight of intention and resistance. Change doesn’t always have to be loud or sweeping; often, it begins with these quiet but deliberate gestures. Made in Canva Though the word microfeminism has gained traction only recently (especially online), the concept—and even the term itself—has roots that go back much further. In a 1998 article from the book 'Wired-Up', academic Sue Turnbull explored how her students responded to everyday feminist practices [2]. Rather than aligning with broad, unified political frameworks, they were drawn to more grounded, personal actions that addressed gender dynamics in daily life. Turnbull noted...

India’s era of social reform, marked by calls for progress and justice, brought child marriage into focus as a deeply entrenched obstacle to the rights of women and girls. Though outlawed in 1929, the practice remains alarmingly prevalent, with 23% of Indian girls still married before the age of 18. Prominent reformers like Raja Ram Mohan Roy and Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar strongly opposed child marriage, pointing to its devastating impact on health, education, and personal freedom. Girls forced into early marriage face serious risks, including high maternal mortality, greater risk of domestic and sexual violence, and the loss of education and autonomy. While these practical harms motivated most reformers, as early as the 19th century, one woman named Rukhmabai Raut took the argument further. She launched a revolt that was grounded in the ideas of consent, autonomy, and dignity. Rukhmabai’s opposition to child marriage stood apart not merely because it was bold, but because it was intel...