Waves of emotions, memories, a time, a journey fill the mind in surges. Songs, lines and slogans I have not sung in decades surface through. I hum, I cry, I smile, and I feel gratitude. What a life, what a journey, what drive and capacity and a voice whose vibrations touched so many. Kamla Bhasin – a mentor, a trainer and an influencer exemplar.
On 25 September a text message from a friend in India left me stunned. Since then my mind has been swirling in emotions and reflections. Grieving is a process and my heart aches. How come I am grieving in this fashion? Why do I feel a deep sense of loss? I had no contact with her in decades, not spoken, met or exchanged an email or a text, not even a click on any “like” button on social media. But even as I type this, its hard to accept that she is no more. The feelings are intense, when all of my interaction with Kamla was miniscule, yet the loss I feel is huge. This feeling stems from the unique strength she emanated, through all that she did, the outreach to possibly millions in South Asia and beyond. I have lost a mentor, a teacher, who deeply influenced frameworks of my life journey, my thinking, choices, and relationships.
It was with trepidation and nervousness that I walked into her Food and Agricultural Organisation( FAO, United Nations) office, Lodhi Estate, New Delhi in 1990. My first job as a Women’s Development Associate with Gandhi Peace Centre (GPC), tasked to write a proposal and approach her for funding. I had heard of her, a top women’s leader in Delhi and so on. The friendly, down-to-earth, unpretentious person I met came as a complete surprise. There I was sitting and talking to her in her office. It did not matter one bit, that I was a complete non-entity. She showed me one of the envelops on her table, “See, what’s written on the envelop.” I notice the prefix, “Mr” Kamla Bhasin. “Do you see, that it is unimaginable for people to accept that a high-ranking UN official is a woman; even an obvious female name ‘ K-a-m-l-a’, can only belong to a man, given this position and authority, and so I get envelops marked “Mr” Kamla Bhasin”. She laughed, not bitter or angry. This is the change-work we have to do was her message. In that small exchange, Kamla had already deconstructed patriarchy and feminism in a simple manner to a young city-bred girl, entering the world of women’s development in India.
That was the first time in my life, I had begun to step out in the big wide world. From a highly protected Bengali middle-class, English-speaking, public-school education and south-Delhi background I entered the terrain of all that the women’s movement was in the 1990’s. Kamla’s work shaped my worldview, gave frameworks to understand, interpret and act. Shaping life changing experiences and interface with the world and unleashing strength, giving voice and confidence to make choices and decisions in my life. Personally, these were intense times of learning and unlearning.
As it turned out, that visit to her office led to my first travel abroad – next door to Bangladesh. “Exposure tour of women workers from NGOs in India” designed for women workers from 13 states of India. Women from villages who had barely stepped out of their villages or small towns. We now had a passport.
Today when I watch Kamla’s interviews and shows on the internet, tears stream down my eyes – yes, her years in FAO was a powerful contribution and touched so many. I grew up with “tod-tod-ke-bandhano ko- dekho behne aati hein”. The song she wrote was a clarion call that never failed to ignite passion, belief and instill a courage of conviction in what we were doing. Her songs, her poetry and untiring energy and positivity helped open doors to dialogue.
For her it was clear, that men are a part of this journey, yes, men can be feminists, and it does not diminish them in any way. Even before I read any writings on construction of masculinity, Kamla’s talks and sessions said it all without having to rely on research quotes or references. She talked to people straight-on, whoever it might be. She was one of the few women leaders, who spoke to men. There was no animosity or combat, but a no-nonsense communicator who could, with humour, jokes and that famous twinkle in her eyes, bring men to the ground. Literally show them their place in the world. No, they could not get away by not taking responsibility and accountability of the destruction and burden of patriarchy.
Kamla gave the key note address at one of GPC’s national conferences – a gathering of few thousands from across the network of NGOs in 13 states of India. I recall the exchanges with her at the time, conversations with Dr Radhakrishna, the Gandhian who headed GPC and introducing her at the conference. Thousands attending were enthralled, her songs and call to action always had a resounding echo that lasted beyond the moment.
I hold cherished memories of a women’s development workshop in Rishikesh, India, that was organized by Jagori. The workshop opened up the minds and hearts of those of us fortunate enough to be part of it. These were designed to integrate lived experiences with concepts, frameworks and practical understanding on feminism and women’s development framework in the South Asian context. Kamla’s work, songs and writings on patriarchy were integral to growing the work force in the sector. Tears, honest sharing, joy, music and laughter were woven into conversations. Kamla’s thinking, ideas and creative energy were integral to programmes and trainings conducted in those years. These influences shaped my career, work and personal life choices, and possibly many more individuals and organisations. Her passion, compassion, love, life and laughter shaped the journey towards equality, gender dialogue and empowerment in South Asia.
I admired her composure and calm despite tumultuous personal situations and that she could lead life on her own terms. For young women working on gender and women’s development she brought a new perspective and furthered the discourse. She showed us how to question the status quo and carve new pathways.
After hearing the news about Kamla, I took out four booklets that are treasured belongings, that travelled with me when I migrated to New Zealand nearly two decades ago. Flipping through the pages, the tunes of songs jumped out from remote corners of the brain. I hold many memories around these songs, sung with many women, girls and also men in training sessions, workshops as part of social and community development in India. It was these songs, their tunes that tied together the entire purpose and intent of the work – whether it was around the SAARC Decade for the Girl Child, primary education, malnutrition, labour issues, or gender and development. I remember a time when Kamla telling us (those of us who metro cities like Delhities, English-speaking urban middle-class) to notice, with care and attention how even a poor woman, however wretched her situation or circumstance might be, she will smile, sweep the front-yard of her home in whichever region or state of the country – the woman will clean-up and make a rangoli or decorative art. That is the strength and power of a woman.
As I developed in my own work journey, in later years, this remark made me think about the feminine principle in later years. Why it matters in the world and institutions and in striving for equality even as we bring to surface inequities. Kamla had an incredible ability to break things down in a simple manner yet say the most powerful and profound facts. She could hammer home the facts in the most disarming and charming fashion.
Years later, I met her again. I was working in a bi-lateral aid agency in New Delhi. Kamla said to the small group of the local and international team of officers, “you have a need to give, giving is as much a need as there might be a need to receive funding. The donor’s need to give is like an ache in a woman’s breast if she cannot feed. This need to give is as real as the hunger pangs of the child." We were left pondering on her metaphor, and I think she was trying to bring the equilibrium in the thinking framework in the conversation, and a sense of equality, not the typical donor-recipient dialogue frame. In the evening, she asked one of our expatriate colleagues, “I must try that the pipe you smoke, I have tried cigarettes and cigars, but never a pipe”. And there she was, with that smile and twinkle in her eyes as she puffed on the pipe to everyone’s amusement.
The last I met Kamlaji was in 2000, in an informal social setting in Chanakyapuri. It was a friend and associated who had worked for a long time on gender and development with the Swedish bi-later aid agency. As the evening progressed, the chatter and laughter went on. The culmination, sure enough was when we all broke out into the tod-tod-ke bandhano-ko song. Kamla has now broken all chains, ties, strings and attachments and flown. A life of strength, light and laughter through all the twists and turns.
On Friday 8 October, from 11 pm to 2 am (Auckland, NZ time), I watched the live stream of the commemorative event organized by Azad Foundation in Chinmaya Mission, Lodhi Estate. I felt happy to be part of the celebration of her life, from thousands of miles away. In that moment, even as I grieved, hearing the voices of people who held the fire and passion that Kamla ignited, inspired and the tireless work for equality in the world, there was healing.
RT
11 October 2021
Auckland, New Zealand
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