Remember how our mothers would encourage us as kids, saying, “Mera bahadur baccha jaldi se dawa kha lega! (My brave child will take medicine quickly!)” whenever we refused to take medicine? Their gentle encouragement and warm reassurance made all the difference. Recently, in Triveniganj, I have seen this happen often—but with women, not children. Many women avoid Iron Folic Acid (IFA) tablets, even though they are crucial during pregnancy and lactation.

While India has reached Mars and aspires to be a global technology leader, millions of women in rural Bihar still struggle to access basic knowledge about their own bodies. In the absence of education, myths, fears, and whispered half-truths shape their understanding of reproductive health. Today, I share the story of Neha, a 25-year-old woman from a village in the Supaul district. She never went to school and got married so young that she cannot recall her age at the time.

Eight months ago, ZealGrit decided to step into Supaul, where data speaks of a grim reality. 69.4% of children aged 6-59 months were anaemic, and 42.9% of children under five were stunted. But beyond the statistics, we saw stories of silent battles, of mothers trying to raise their children with little to no support. If we wanted to improve maternal and child health outcomes, we had to start from the very beginning—from conception to the first two years of life.

Supaul, where we operate, presents concerning health indicators. According to the National Family Health Survey-5 data (2019-20), over 50% of pregnant women and 60% of children aged 6-59 months are anaemic, while nearly half of all children under five are wasted or underweight. These numbers made it clear that intervention was necessary. But numbers alone never tell the whole story. To really understand the need, we had to get up close. With that in mind, we created our to-do

"Itni Dhoop Hai, AC Chala Do." It is a phrase we have all heard or said, stepping back home after an hour of grocery shopping in the heat. We take off our shoes, reach for the AC remote, and sigh in relief. But think for a moment—what about the ones who do not have the luxury of resting even in front of a cooler or fan at their homes? Those who can not afford even a moment’s break because their family’s survival depends on the wages they earn that very day.

Remember the iconic struggle in "Toilet-Ek Prem Katha," where Keshav (Akshay Kumar) fights against age-old traditions to build a toilet for his wife? Let me take you through a similar basic yet eye-opening journey unfolding in Supaul, Bihar—a tale that challenges our perception of basic necessities. Imagine moving to a place where the sight of families using an open field as their bathroom is a daily reality.

When we hear the word "breastfeeding," we often picture a mother feeding her baby with a smile on her face. But doesn’t this picture seem incomplete? How about a mother nursing her baby while the father prepares food for her, both sharing a smile? How beautiful would that be! A family picture of mutual support.

“God could not be everywhere, so he made mothers” deeply resonates with our story today. Every heartbeat carries stories of love, strength, and resilience. A mother sacrifices everything for her child, experiencing every step of pregnancy over nine months. However, for rural mothers from the Dalit communities in Bihar, these sacrifices are compounded by significant challenges. Recently, I met Sita Devi (name changed), 30, pregnant with her fourth child.

Weight loss wasn’t a random decision but a choice that I made after enduring all those years of hurtful judgements and bullying. The people’s unkind statements and indifferent looks pushed me to focus on my inner strength and become a new person. I reflect and realise that life is an intricate web of moments, hardships, and victories, where each thread carries an individual story. One such story is my weight-loss journey.

In the busy world of hostel life, quick and easy snacks often win over healthy, wholesome meals. Whenever I felt hungry, I would grab a packet of Maggi, a bag of chips or cream biscuits, accompanied by milk tea, without thinking much about it. They tasted good and satisfied my hunger, so why not, correct? But soon enough, reality hit me hard. After a few months, my stomach started hurting, and pain became a constant companion, messing with my daily routine and even my studies

This weekend, I watched Laapataa Ladies, a Bollywood comedy-drama. The film delves into the struggles of two women trapped by life circumstances dictated by the veil. It is a heart-warming story of women who didn't give up on life. One of them, Phool, decided that if she finds her way back home, she doesn't want to just remain dependent on someone else – she wants to be the one earning her livelihood. 

In India, a poignant reality unfolds for adolescent girls, revealing a significant lack of understanding and support for their reproductive and sexual health. My recent visit to a government high school brought this starkly to light, exposing the silent battles of teenage girls, struggles that linger unnoticed and unattended. Questions like: “How often should I change sanitary napkins?”How can I handle debilitating period pain that keeps me out of school for days?”

I was born in a small village in Rajasthan, India, where drought, food shortages, and hunger were all too familiar. For seven long years, our village faced drought, teaching me how vital food and nutrition are for everyone's growth and well-being. These experiences shaped my education and career choices.