As the world gears up to celebrate International Women’s Day on 8 March, a pertinent question looms ~ how far have we truly come in achieving gender equality? In India, women have risen to positions of power, yet they continue to battle the deeply entrenched patriarchal mindset that seeks to diminish their contributions and limit their aspirations. From the field of politics to academia, from corporate boardrooms to fighter jets, women have proven their mettle time and again. Yet, the paradox remains ~ why is their success still an anomaly rather than the norm? Working in the education sector as an assistant professor, I have witnessed firsthand the invisible barriers that exist for women professionals.
Academia is often perceived as a progressive space, but even here, gender biases persist. The dominance of male authority figures, the subtle dismissal of women’s opinions in decision-making bodies, and the struggle to break into higher administrative roles are just some of the challenges faced by women educators. While we educate young minds about gender equality, we often grapple with inequality in our own professional spaces. Many women across sectors encounter similar struggles. They are paid less for the same work, overlooked for promotions, and often expected to choose between career and family. While workplaces have introduced measures like maternity leave and anti-harassment policies, the fundamental mindset that sees women as secondary workers persists. Cinema, often dismissed as entertainment, has played a crucial role in mirroring and challenging these injustices. Films like Gunjan Saxena: The Kargil Girl, Mrs., and Thappad don’t just depict fictional struggles ~ they resonate with the daily realities faced by women like me and countless others.
They highlight how we are forced to fight not just external battles but also systemic and psychological wars within our own institutions. Bollywood, often reflective of societal realities, has attempted to capture the struggles of women striving for recognition in male-dominated spaces. The 2020 film Gunjan Saxena: The Kargil Girl is an inspiring real life story of an Indian Air Force officer who had to battle gender discrimination even while proving herself as a competent pilot. The narrative isn’t just about her triumph in war but about her war within ~ a fight against the ingrained belief that a woman does not belong in the cockpit. The movie powerfully portrays how Gunjan Saxena, despite her skills and determination, had to navigate a system that doubted her solely because of her gender. Her resilience and refusal to succumb to societal expectations make her journey inspiring for countless young women aspiring to break barriers.
In my own experience, the corridors of academia are lined with men in positions of power. They set the rules and dictate what voices are heard. Women who dare to question policies or speak up about inequities are often ostracized. Instead of being encouraged, we are made to feel like outliers, much like Gunjan was in the Air Force. The film powerfully conveys that a woman’s competence is never enough in a system rigged against her. It is not just about skill but about fighting for the right to even exist in that space. Like Gunjan, I too have felt the silent resistance of an institution reluctant to embrace change, where leadership remains a boys’ club and any attempt to challenge it is met with subtle, and sometimes overt, retaliation.
Mrs. resonated with me not just as a professional but as a woman who has seen how domestic responsibilities and societal expectations consume and redefine female identities. The film questions why a woman’s worth is always tied to her role in the family. It made me reflect on how, even in the most progressive environments, women are expected to balance career ambitions with caregiving roles ~ something men are rarely expected to do. As an assistant professor, I have seen brilliant female colleagues put their careers on hold for family obligations, while their male counterparts ascend the ranks uninterrupted. Even in my own life, I have witnessed how women must justify their ambitions, constantly proving that they can manage both home and work, while men enjoy unquestioned privilege. The struggle of the protagonist in Mrs. is not just hers ~ it belongs to every woman who has ever been made to feel guilty for prioritizing herself.
It is a quiet but radical assertion that women are not mere extensions of their families; they are individuals with dreams and ambitions of their own. Perhaps no film has unsettled me more than Thappad. It is not just about domestic violence; it is about the normalization of male entitlement and female endurance. The protagonist, Amrita, walks away from her marriage not because of physical abuse but because of a single slap ~ an act that represents years of unspoken oppression. We can’t ignore that we all at some point or other felt the string of metaphorical slaps from this society itself ~ being dismissed in meetings, having our ideas appropriated by male colleagues, being labeled ‘too aggressive’ for merely speaking up.
The hierarchy is clear: men lead, and women follow. If we resist, we are not just questioned ~ we are cast aside. The film’s power lies in its simple yet profound message: No act of disrespect, no matter how small, should be tolerated. It made me realize that empowerment is not just about breaking glass ceilings; it is about re – fusing to accept even the smallest cracks in our dignity. India has had powerful women in politics ~ Indira Gandhi, our first and only female Prime Minister, was a leader who commanded respect across the globe. And yet, decades later, women in politics still find themselves fighting for legitimacy. Mamata Banerjee, the honorable Chief Minister of West Bengal, has successfully led her state for over a decade, yet her leadership is often undermined with sexist narratives that question her capabilities rather than her policies. While women have held top positions in governance, their representation remains abysmally low. The Women’s Reservation Bill, which seeks to ensure 33 per cent reservation for women in Parliament and state legislatures, has been languishing in limbo for years.
This reluctance to provide women with equal political footing speaks volumes about the deep-seated reluctance of a pa – triarchal society to share power. It is a bitter irony that in a country where goddesses are worshipped, women still struggle for dignity and equal status. Women in power are often judged not by their competence but by their gender. Whether it is an academic, an athlete, a corporate leader, or a politician, a woman must work twice as hard as a man to prove herself, and even then, her success is often attributed to luck, favoritism, or tokenism. The persistent gender stereotypes are not just a social issue ~ they are an economic and political hindrance. Studies have shown that greater female participation in the workforce boosts economic growth. Countries that have invested in women’s education and employment have seen remarkable progress.
Yet, in India, women’s labour force participation remains low, and those who do work are often subjected to discrimination, harassment, and unequal pay. The biggest challenge is challenging societal norms ~ women’s achievements should be normalized rather than seen as extraordinary exceptions. As we observe another Women’s Day, let us not limit ourselves to token celebrations and social media tributes.
Let us ask the hard questions: Why, even after so many years of women proving their capabilities, are they still considered secondary citizens? Why is their leadership doubted, their success questioned, and their struggle trivialized? The battle for equality is not just a woman’s fight ~ it is a fight for a just and progressive society. We must break free from the shackles of deep-seated gender biases and acknowledge women as equals ~ not just in theory but in everyday practice. Only then can we claim to be a truly progressive nation.
(The writer is Assistant Professor, Department of Political Science, Bidhan Chandra College, Asansol)