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Mutually Empowered

By Prerna Srivastava '06

The calf walks briskly in front of us, tugging gently on the rope in my hands as if to prompt me to walk faster.   Her pace quickens as we draw nearer to the water hole.   She must be really thirsty.

"Isko choddo. Ye pani piyegi aur ghoomegi. Hum log is taraff chalte hai," says Sumitra, a spirited 19-year-old girl from a small, adivasi farming community named Kharia in Jhagadia, Gujarat.   My eyes follow the direction she points in. She directs me to let the calf go on her own and leads my gaze elsewhere. Cotton fields seem to extend endlessly in the distance, crowned by skies of impeccable azure. I reach out my hand for Sumitra to hold as we climb gingerly downhill, kicking up dirt and rocks in the process.   She looks at me and smiles, her light brown eyes sparkling in the sun.   Moments later, she turns excitedly towards me and points in the direction of the creek, "Didi, dekho, dekho, machli, dekha aapne?!" As if on cue, tiny, frenzied fish materialize before my eyes, rushing hurriedly past each other in their underwater haven.   She throws a pebble into the water to attract their attention, and they rush towards it in anticipation.

I roll up my pants up in preparation for wading into the water, and suggest we try to catch one.   Excited by the proposition, Sumitra takes off her dupatta, folds it in half, and wades into the water with the scarf submerged.   We wait in silent anticipation, hoping one will swim in, but the fish escape our makeshift net.   We laugh at our underestimation of the task, wring out the dupatta and the bottoms of our pants, and start walking back home, hand in hand.   Her warm, firm grip on my hand makes me smile. I hold her hand tenderly and hope that she doesn't let go. She doesn't.

"Jab log mujhse kehte hai ke main kuch cheez ki kabil nahi hun, mujhe goosa aata hai, aur main unko dikhana chahati hun ki main kuch bhi kar sakti hun," says Sumitra.   "When people tell me that I'm not capable of something, I get really angry. It makes me want to show them that I can do anything."

This is what strikes me most about Sumitra. In one moment, we're soaked to our knees trying to catch fish, laughing, acting silly, and in the next, she says something unexpectedly profound.

While we're sitting and washing dishes outside in the dark, spoons clanging against plates, she suddenly straightens her back, looks directly at me, and says, "Mujhe shaadi nahi karni hai. I don't want to get married.   What promise does marriage hold?   Marriage is self-ruin! I want to become something first, and then I'll get married.   Not now. I want to do something first. Pehle kuch karna hai."

In the midst of breaking twigs in preparation for the fire she needs to cook rotlas, she looks up, thinks for a moment, and says matter of factly, "Agar kuch karna hai, to dar to aayegi, lekin dar se haar nahi maan sakte.   Dar hai to kuch bhi nahi kar sakte." Literally translated,"Fear is inevitable when we venture to do something significant. We can't, however, allow the fear to defeat us.   If we harbor fear, then nothing is possible."

But Sumitra isn't just full of empty words. She acts.   During the adolescent workshop held in Kharia, she noticed that a few girls couldn't read or write.   When I suggested she start a class for these girls, she didn't just go home and think about it.   She spoke to her parents about the proposition, and offered to teach every Sunday with my help.   Together, we now teach a very excited group of seven girls every Sunday.

Sumitra is my muse. Through her energy, through her promise, I feel rejuvenated.   Her desire to do more, see more, and learn more pushes me to think, to act, to create spaces for her to grow, for us to grow.   The simple act of listening to her empowers me, gives me strength when I feel defeated.   By pushing her to realize her potential, I push myself to see beyond what lies immediately in front of me. Without even realizing it, Sumitra pushes me to push myself when I push her.   In physics, the force I exert on my environment doesn't exist in a vacuum, and generates an equal, but opposite force. Sumitra is this "normal force."

I believe in Sumitra, and in turn, I believe in myself. In her words, I hear my own.   In her voice, I hear my own.   My potential has become intimately intertwined with hers. I watch her growing, and I feel myself growing with her, walking forward with her, hand in hand.

I hold her hand tenderly, and hope that she doesn't let go. She grips my hand firmly, and we keep walking.   Onward. Onward. Onward. Together.

Did You know?

Indicorps offers a variety of programs and opportunities that encourage leadership and civic engagement. While the fellowship focuses on empowering people willing to do whatever it takes to affect change, we also have local volunteer programs in India, an established internship program, an emerging domestic program, an effort to engage late-careers seniors in development, an online volunteer opportunity site, and more....

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Inspiration

If you have come to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.

- Lila Watson