In her book A Woman of No Consequence, associate professor Kalpana Karunakaran explores the life of Pankajam, her maternal grandmother, who was born in 1911. Pankajam’s life was shaped by Tamil Brahmin orthodoxy and she believed, like many women of her time, who were confined at home, that her life was “utterly ordinary”. Yet she spent her free time writing short stories about love, intimacy, and conjugality.

In her review of the book, Ramya Kannan says that “… she [Pankajam] is tied down to a family bound by patriarchal norms. She writes to counter this, and writing becomes her way out of the less-than-ideal life she might otherwise have been stuck with.” For Pankajam, writing itself became a subversive act.

As someone who believes in the power of words, and who reads and writes for a living, I loved this story. I found during the same week that it is with words, with their passionate speeches and provocative writing, that women were able to stamp their presence, make demands, and articulate their hopes during the Self-Respect Movement in Tamil Nadu. (Read about it here.)

There are innumerable ways in which words have been used to propagate power structures and articulate discrimination against women. For instance, using the masculine pronoun, or using words such as ‘policeman’, ‘chairman’, and ‘fireman’, as the default. Or using passive language to describe violence against women (”She was raped” instead of “He raped her”). Sometimes it is in the ways in which we dismiss problematic behaviour (”Boys will be boys”). And sometimes, it lies in whose words we choose to recognise and reward, which is why prizes such as the Women’s Prize for Fiction and the Women’s Prize for Non-Fiction were established. (Read about this year’s longlists here and here.)

But words have also been used as rallying cries in feminist movements across the world. Caroline Bird is credited with first using the word ‘sexism’ in her book, which launched the second wave of feminism in the U.S. Carol Hanisch’s essay titled ‘The personal is political’ expanded the suffrage concern of the first wave of feminism to a range of issues such as sexuality, family, and the workplace. ‘Woman, Life, Freedom’ is the slogan of the Iranian women fighting for their rights — Saleem Rashid Shah writes about here. And in India, Uma Chakravarti coined the term ‘Brahminical patriarchy’ to describe the intertwined structures of caste and gender. Each of these phrases captures both universal and region-specific struggles.

We can also use words to practise feminist values in our daily lives. Such as by saying “women and men” instead of “men and women”, as my colleague Sunalini always insists. Or by calling confident women simply that — confident — instead of “aggressive” or “bossy”. 

Yesterday, I met someone who told me, “You don’t look like a feminist”. He meant it as a compliment. And that got me thinking: did Pankajam look like one? Did the women of the Self-Respect Women look like feminists? What do feminists look like?

If all these women have taught us anything, it is that feminism has never been about appearances; it has always been about fighting for rights, challenging discrimination, and asking to be heard. About using language to wield power. So I did one of the most feminist things I know many have done: I came home and wrote about it.

Toolkit

The Hindi film, Assi, directed by Anubhav Sinha and starring Tapsee Pannu and Kani Kusruti, is playing in cinema halls. In it, a Delhi schoolteacher is abducted and brutally gang-raped by a group of men. Her devoted husband and a fierce lawyer battle a corrupt, apathetic justice system. Anuj Kumar writes about the film. 

Wordsworth

Self-managed medical abortions: This is the process of ending a pregnancy by using medication outside a medical setting, such as at home. The rise of self-managed or medical abortions indicates gaps in the ability of the health system to provide dignified care, while also pointing to women’s need for convenience, privacy, and autonomy over reproductive decisions, writes Abbha Dhuriya in this piece.

Ouch!

You know, once I was in Shangri-La, I saw Anne Curtis. She is so beautiful. I felt a desire in me creep up. I felt the heat inside me and I imagined what could happen, but that is only my imagination. I don’t think I can be charged for the things I imagined. 

Philippines lawmaker Angel “Bong” Suntay about actor Anne Curtis.

People we met

P. Anitha, 30, sits in front of housing board tenements at Mullai Nagar in Chennai, selling kavab. The dish, consisting of meat cut into small cubes and cooked until tender with a crisp exterior, is a North Chennai speciality. “My mother does the cooking, and I sell it for her from 5 in the evening to 12 midnight,” Anitha says, adding that she gets a share of the profit. “This way, I get to earn a little something to contribute to our family expenses.” Read Akila Kannadasan’s piece about the beef dish.

Published – March 08, 2026 06:25 pm IST


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *