In order to reach Lanka, Rama began to build a bridge. A little squirrel wanted to contribute its mite to this effort. It began to jump into the water and then roll on the sand and then run to where the bridge was coming up to shed the sand. Amazed at this unusual activity, Rama asked the squirrel what it was up to. The squirrel replied that it was doing what it could, to help build the bridge.

There must be many who, like that squirrel, have contributed quietly to our independence. They also have their own stories to tell. Kala Shahani too, has a story of her own.

Donation price Rs.100

The World As My Laboratory
Shantoo Gurnani's
Tryst With Science

A young girl in Karachi whose family did not allow her to study beyond the fourth standard; an eager girl who read all the papers especially for information on new discoveries in science and worried that there would be nothing left for her to discover if they did not let her study further; a twenty-two year old girl walking on the streets of Bombay with her brother after Partition, to find out if the city could give succour to her large family of five sisters and five brothers; a research scientist who never got tired of her laboratory; a sanyasi who wants to find out the nature of the subject since as a scientist she can grapple only with the objective world. These images of strength and resilience emerge from the narration of Shantoo Gurnani - a narration that informs us about educational choices women made in the thirties and forties and the careers in science opening out for women in the early half of the century.

Donation price Rs.100

Amhihi Itihas Ghadawala
Urmila Pawar And
The Making Of History

A widow with a grim face sits in the front yard of her house, under a small tree, weaving baskets for a living. Her little daughter who often plays truant from school wishes her mother would smile and dress up like other mothers. She also wishes her mother would not beat her up so much and not bathe her as if she was inflicting a capital punishment. The young girl has also to run errands for her mother -- deliver baskets woven on order and occasionally run to the Brahmin household opposite to buy pickles for two paise for her mother.

The young girl pushes herself to school to fulfil her father's dying wish and finally takes up a job. And one day she decides to write about her experiences and the experiences of those around her. She gets to be known as Urmila Pawar, the Marathi writer whose writings reflect Dalit experiences of living. In Urmila's narration of her life, one can see many stories and in her stories, one can see her life.

Donation price Rs.100

Damayanti Joshi
Menaka's Daughter

A four-year-old girl met Menaka, a woman who had chosen to be a dancer against great odds. Menaka took this frail child under her wings and persuaded the little girl's widowed mother to allow the girl to be trained a dancer. Menaka became the mentor, guru and a second mother to the girl.

This little girl became the renowned Kathak dancer, Damayanti Joshi, who feels that her entire life and its meaning is contained in her dance. Everything else is incidental and unimportant. To Damayanti, dance is the only story of her life and she never tires of telling it.

Donation price Rs.100

Sakhubai
Talking In The Transplanting Season

When its stock of grains gets over, a tribal family sends its girl-child to mind other people's children in exchange for grains. Sakhubai, as a young girl, was sent to mind other people's children. She was so small she could hardly lift the child she was taking care of; all she could do was to rock the cradle. Sakhubai was pushed into many situations in life even before she realised what she was in for. Sakhubai came out of all this, a fighter. As a member of Kashtakari Sanghatana, she has the courage now to question and to say 'no' to exploitation of all kinds. She is afraid at times, of being attacked, of being hunted as a witch, of being ostracised. She carries on nevertheless for she knows she is not alone in this fight. Sakhubai's life is part of a history, which needs to be known.

Donation price Rs.100

Sushama
Vhay, Mee Savitribai

Early in her career, as an investigative journalist doing reports on dowry deaths, Sushama had to often visit the Burns Ward in hospitals. She used to feel that no words could possibly convey the smell of that ward, the smell of burnt flesh, of medicine, of rot. Perhaps words cannot. But when Sushama decides to perform she is able to convey every little feeling, and emotion with ease and grace. Watching Vhay, Me Savitribai, we can reach out not only to Savitribai's thoughts but also sense the fragrance of her personality. Sushma would accept this comment with a simple and direct reply -- " But Savitri is my spirit."

Donation price Rs.100

Neela
Colours Of Tradition

When Neela chose the Mysore style of painting as her vocation she knew she did not belong to the Chitrakar community. The painters who belonged to this community had practised this style of painting for many centuries with royal patronage. They chose themes from mythologies and puranas but there have also been portraits and other non-religious subjects chosen for this style of painting. Traditionally this art of painting was handed down from father to son and women of the family were not considered inheritors of this art. With lack of patronage this community had to seek other ways of survival. Neela chose traditional painting knowing what obstacles lay before her. But she has managed to make a place for herself and hopes that women from the Chitrakar community itself will one day reclaim an art that was denied to them. Like the bright green parrots with shining red beaks that come out of nowhere and make a place for themselves in Neela's paintings creating little visual surprises, there is always space and hope for changes in the traditional art of painting.

Donation price Rs.100

Speaking from the Guts:
Memories Of Communal Riots

The real tragedy of Indian society today is that the lives of some citizens are considered expendable; that these citizens have to live their everyday lives in fear, anguish and impotent anger. This booklet is about events recalled by people who have been affected by communal riots, about people who have taken up the difficult task of rehabilitation and the more difficult task of questioning, re-questioning and analysis.

Donation price Rs.100