In the world’s largest democracy, one would expect the empowerment of women to be a
natural and non-negotiable truth. And yet, even in the third decade of the 21st century, India
seems deeply conflicted about what it truly wants from its daughters. We celebrate slogans
like Beti Bachao Beti Padhao – but do we genuinely allow our daughters to grow, to step into
spaces of education, dignity, and ambition?
Recent events across the country raise a haunting question. A father kills his daughter for
merely aspiring to study beyond school. On university campuses, cases of rape are quietly
buried beneath social stigma and institutional inaction. In offices, women – especially those
who assert their independence – face persistent sexual harassment and exclusion. Domestic
violence continues to rise, disproportionately affecting working and financially independent
women. Even today, girls are kidnapped, trafficked, or socially policed merely for stepping
outside their homes.
This is not just a law-and-order problem; it reveals a deeper societal discomfort with the very
idea of female freedom. Too often, women are still viewed not as individuals but as entities
whose ambitions must be controlled, whose movement must be restricted, and whose success
must be sanctioned by male authority.
And this, despite the Constitution of India offering strong guarantees – the right to life with
dignity under Article 21, freedom of movement under Article 19(1)(d), and the freedom to
pursue any lawful profession under Article 19(1)(g). The country has enacted progressive laws
like the POSH Act, POCSO Act, Indian Penal Code (and now Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita), and
the Domestic Violence Act, to protect and empower women in every sphere. But law alone is
not enough. When society refuses to internalize the idea of an empowered woman, legal rights
remain merely on paper.
An educated and working woman is a multiplier for social good. She ensures that her family is
more secure, her children better educated, and her home more resilient. Her presence at the
workplace not only improves output and diversity but is also linked to reduced levels of
corruption and better institutional ethics. She brings balance, fairness, and reasoned
decision-making – at home, in public service, and in the private sector.
A study by the International Monetary Fund notes that India’s GDP could increase by 27% if
women participated in the workforce at the same level as men. But it is not just about
economic growth. The empowerment of women represents the ethical and constitutional
maturity of a nation.
India is not lacking in examples of what educated women can do. Savitribai Phule, India’s first
female teacher, fought caste and patriarchy to lay the foundation for female education. Sudha
Murty’s quiet leadership in philanthropy, literature, and family values makes her a modern
icon. Falguni Nayar’s entrepreneurial journey with Nykaa has made her a self-made billionaire.
Justice B.V. Nagarathna, poised to be India’s first woman Chief Justice, represents a historic
leap for gender justice in the judiciary. These are not anomalies. These are roadmaps.
The path forward must go beyond symbolism. Laws must be enforced – not merely announced.
Public institutions must be accountable. Legal awareness must reach the grassroots. Media
must reflect responsibility in its portrayals. Public safety infrastructure must match the needs
of working women. And above all, homes and schools must start early in teaching that a
daughter is not a burden – but a possibility.
Until society stops fearing educated daughters, India’s constitutional promises will remain
incomplete. Let us not ask if our daughters are ready to rise. Let us ask if we, as a nation, are
finally ready to let them.
