That feeling of excitement and liberation

Human rights and civil rights activist and author Vasanth Kannabiran's tell-all – her memoir- traces her political life, experiences of being the member of the earliest women's collectives in India, the Stree Shakti Sangathana, and other memories in a refreshing style. She has been championing the cause of women's narratives in revolutionary movements and has actively contributed to feminist historiography initiatives like the documenting of women's participation in the Telangana armed struggle. The book also gives insight into what made her take up the cudgels against inequality and discrimination

After the Emergency was lifted in 1977, several women, many of whom had been politically active in revolutionary movements earlier, felt the need for a meaningful political forum and came together to start a women's group. I was drawn into it more due to personal contacts than any political activism or feminist conviction. Among the women who had joined forces were three whom Kannabiran had previously defended on charges filed under the Defence of India Act, 1915. Veena Shatrugna, who was part of the group, had once asked Kanna why he had not politicised his wife! So perhaps my inclusion and liberation was an act of generosity! It was sometime around 1978 that we coalesced to form the Stree Shakti Sanghatana (SSS). Two important things happened at this point which had a significant impact on my life. The first was an in-depth study of Marxist texts as part of my M.Litt degree, that I was pursuing at the Central Institute of English and Foreign Languages (CIEFL) in Hyderabad. I had decided to do my Masters as I needed a break from teaching. The second was reading feminist theory as part of my involvement with the SSS. It was as if the stone walls around me had suddenly dissolved. Life started making sense. I felt free, liberated from the middle class mindset that had gradually both enclosed and excluded me. I was not a misfit anymore. ...

I was a mother of three, a teacher for nearly two decades, and pushing forty. I often refer to that period in my life as my punarjanma, rebirth, filled with such a sense of power, of capacity, of the feeling of being invincible. At the same time, there was also the occasional tremor at encountering new experiences and truths. Wordsworth's 'Bliss was in that dawn to be alive' seemed to make so much more sense.

For nearly a decade, the SSS politicised women's issues and radically changed the character of political discourse in Andhra Pradesh. A part of the second-wave feminist movement that emerged throughout India in the 1970s, the SSS had a distinctive identity that was firmly rooted in the political context from which it had emerged.

With the birth of the SSS—and how much we deliberated on the name!—there was the dawn of a new hope and meaning for me and, I believe, many others, too. I realised the true meaning of friendship, the bonding that shared ideas and beliefs creates, the pleasure of exploring new truths and ideas, shredding and piecing back together every experience so that it made sense—like playing an unending game of Sudoku. How does one describe the meetings where we discussed whether it was okay to smoke during a demonstration or desist from it and get our ideas across? (There was a public distate for women smoking.) Whether we should call ourselves feminist or commiserate with our Left friends and say: 'What's in a name?' How to remain uncompromising and stick to our principles without losing our 'public'? Significantly, that public was largely male, with women often shying away from our pamphlets and our presence. Analysing the tyranny of the marriage-bed and, in the midst of the heated argument, forgetting the single women among us who may not have agreed with our views, but did not dare to disagree. Until a few years later, when 'single woman' became a category and gained a separate voice. Nonetheless, our taking up the issue of working women's hostels and understanding/analysing the rights of single women to secure housing and dignity, was a radical departure from the emphasis on domestic and marital violence that dominated the movement at that time.

So much of that time is forgotten now. So much can never be forgotten. And it's impossible to measure the enormous growth that I, a naïve, slightly foolish, unintellectual yet efficient woman, experienced. It's difficult to describe those days. Our friendships in the group were strong and binding, but also often stifling, excluding newcomers by its palpable power even while welcoming them with open arms. For those of us to whom the group was everything, it was difficult to understand why people didn't want to share in that excitement and feeling of liberation. Each one of us had another circle of friends who would stay in touch with us at a personal level but cautiously stayed away from our political group. And we always wondered why it was so. We felt they had not yet seen the truth. Or that it was the influence of patriarchy! We were so intelligent, so dedicated, and yet so smugly unaware of what was putting these other women off!

Even though our numbers in the Sanghatana were few (I don't think we ever exceeded twenty members) the visibility and impact of our presence was great. The media were friendly. The Left (both the CPI and the People's War Group), ever watchful, guarding us with a friendly eye, was ready to play big brother and take us under their wing. Watching, advising, hinting at who was a Trotskyite, who was an American imperialist, and who was a revisionist. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) or rightwing forces were not significant in those days.

Although the Left needed an articulate and sharp women's group to connect with, it still declared that, as individuals we may be pro Left, but our group was largely anti-Left! That was because we raised issues that were inconvenient for patriarchal mindsets. Even now, 40 years later, I think nothing much has really changed in this regard. There's no women's liberation without a revolution and there is no revolution without women. That is what the Maoists also declared during the peace talks in the 2000s. And no one but feminists can understand the implications of this statement, that sexuality is the key to both oppression and liberation, a lesson that mankind will take forever to learn.

Excerpted from 'Taken at the Flood: a memoir of a political life' by Vasanth Kannabiran, published by Women Unlimited.

It was as if the stone walls around me had suddenly dissolved. Life started making sense. I felt free, liberated from the middle-class mindset that had gradually both enclosed and excluded me. I was not a misfit anymore…