The villages of Ranmala, Nandagane, Shirgaon and Mengdewadi, in Pune, Sangli and Satara districts, western India, have one thing in common.

Changuna Raoji Sinalkar, sarpanch of Ranmala, has ensured every house in the village has a toilet. Credit: Daksha Warty/IPS

They are all headed by female sarpanches (village chiefs), and what a difference it has made.

Changuna Raoji Sinalkar, 43 and single, was unanimously elected head of Ranmala when the post of sarpanch here fell vacant after it was declared a seat reserved for women. On Aug. 27, the Indian government upped the reservation of seats for women in panchayats (village councils) from 33 to 50 percent.

Villagers in Ranmala said it made no difference to anyone that Changuna was a Dalit (previously untouchables, and outside the rigid caste system) and crippled by polio in her childhood, which meant that no one was willing to marry her. They went by her track record of working in the government-run kindergarten called ‘anganwadi’.

Confident of meeting the challenge, Changuna accepted the responsibility, and turned her attention to putting in place basic amenities like toilets.

“It was tough going at odd hours in the fields to relieve ourselves. The need was there for long but nobody not even the village male folk ever thought of doing something for us,” Changuna told IPS. Ranmala is in Maharashtra state, roughly 200 kms from Mumbai.

Changuna set out to implement government programmes to ensure total sanitation. Through persuasion, she managed to convince the villagers to construct toilets. In just three years, every house in the village has a toilet; their women owners so proud that most of them have their names and addresses written on the doors and walls of the toilet along with a slogan!

The village of Nandagane, Satara District, has overcome years and years of water scarcity through the efforts of its woman sarpanch, Sunita Rajaram Dalvi, 33, at a cost of roughly 30,000 dollars.

Sunita was chosen as part of a seven-member village committee to look into the water crisis before she became the sarpanch. Under the ‘Jal Swarajya Prakalp’, a government aided project, she worked closely with officials from the district and water supply department and undertook projects including conservation, laying of water pipelines and desilting water bodies that was implemented by the villagers who worked for free.

Sunita told IPS, “For 18 years after my marriage, I used to carry water on my head from wherever it was available and trudge uphill daily. This was the story of all the village women. We could never rest even for a day, as water was needed for cooking, washing, bathing etc. The menfolk never helped but sometimes the children lent a hand.”

Under her care, the village has uninterrupted water supply. “We now have running water through the day,” she said happily.

Forty five-year-old Anjanabai Amrutsagar was elected sarpanch of Shirgaon (Sangli district) after the seat, like Ranmala, was reserved for women – a decision that forced the ouster of the male sarpanch who had remained unchallenged for 40 years.

There was little acceptability for her in the village. The women barely came out in support, while the men made no bones of their dislike for the female sarpanch.

Anjanabai told IPS, “I was at a loss as to where to begin. I had no support from anyone barring my family members …”

The ice thawed when she began organising the women to play Lezhim, a traditional male sport, “best suited for women in their 40s,” according to Anjanabai. The 12 women in the group would practice in the fields late evenings, after their household chores – unthinkable for women to do so.

Very soon many more women joined in, defying the menfolk who would jeer and abuse. They came around only after Shirgaon’s women won the first prize in the district Lezhim competition. Early this year, they performed for the Indian President, Pratibha Patil, when she visited Maharashtra, also her home state.

With her support base expanding, Anjanibai moved to mobilising the women on a cleanliness drive in the village. She stopped villagers from defecating in the open fields.

She started women’s collectives with the assistance of MAVIM, a government agency, to run tiny businesses like poultry and sheep farming.

In April, Anjanibai who received the state’s ‘Ideal Woman Sarpanch’ award in 2007 and 2008, represented her state at a two-day conference in Bihar for elected women representatives, travelling by air – the first sarpanch in Maharashtra to get this opportunity. On her return, excited villagers greeted her with the Lezhim!

For Lata Dattatreya Mengade, 35, sarpanch of Mengdewadi, Pune district, her efforts in helping villagers change their perceptions about the girl child has been her greatest contribution. Female infanticide and foeticide are rampant in many parts of India; the male-female ratio is seriously skewed.

“I have always known the birth of a girl is viewed as a drain on precious resources. Since the government has been making efforts to contain the social evil, I took up that cause,” she said in an interview.

In less than three years the seemingly impossible has happened. The birth of a girl is followed by a small celebration organised by the sarpanch and other village women.

Changuna, Sunita, Anjanibai and Lata have all been trained in good governance by the non governmental organisation, Mahila Rajsatta Andolan (campaign for women’s governance).

Civil society and government have joined together with some very plucky women to change some of India’s villages.

Defying Hindu orthodoxy and intolerant male priests, women in Maharashtra state, western India, have revived a Vedic tradition and become priests.

The priest, Manisha Shete (in blue saree) explains the puja to the yajman (host), Vidyadhar Kulkarni. Credit: Daksha Warty/IPS

Approximately 700 women, most of them from Pune, a busy metropolis, 164-km south of Mumbai (previously Bombay), have undergone the necessary training since the seventies, and many of them are practicing.

“Women priests perform all kinds of rites – upanayana (thread ceremony), adoption, engagement, marriage, remarriage, conversion, reconversion, house warming, ancestor worship and last rites,” says Arya Joshi, 29, a researcher and instructor at the Pune-based Gyan Prabhodini.

Arya told IPS that researchers at the institute are working on simplifying the rites and rituals of the Hindu dharmashastra (code of conduct including moral and social obligations).

“The institution is addressing the spiritual needs of the progressive Hindu who wants to break away from difficult ritualistic offerings,” she says.

“Our society never asks a male priest whether he is a widower or a divorcee, or single. He conducts the prayers and rituals. So why should women be treated differently,” says Arya, who is married and was introduced to Hindu theology by her father, a preacher.

Sunanda Joshi, 64, is a multi-lingual priest. She conducts pujas (prayers) in Marathi, Gujarati and Hindi. She says that her early years were hard, as she had to constantly prove herself. Now, although a widow, she is one of the most sought after women priests in Pune.

She observes a change, over the years, in people’s expectations and wants. Many Hindus now prefer to keep the religious rites and rituals short, she says. Also, there’s a new concern for the environment – people do not want ‘havans’ or ‘yagnas’ where firewood has to be burnt. “They don’t want to waste wood nor do they want to create smoke,” she says.

In addition, at some of the marriages she has conducted, brides have refused to wear the mangalsutra (a pendant worn on a gold chain or thread to symbolise marriage), she says, because there are no such equivalent ritualistic demands on men. “The girls feel that husbands too must have such customs,” she says.

Historically the earliest mention of women participating in ritualistic offerings or Brahmavadinis (those who interpret the scriptures) is in the Rig Veda (between 3300 and 1300 BC, in chapters 5.28 and 10.125). There were 27 Brahmavadinis, who performed rituals and were also acharyas (teachers).

“At the Prabhodini we encourage everyone to participate and read from the text. A copy of the chants is given to everyone,” says Arya who is working towards a doctorate on the concept of shraddha (charity) in last rite rituals.

So, does the Hindu laity think a woman priest is different to the traditional male priest? “Women priests are very committed,” writes Mahesh Madhukar Prabhudesai who hosted a prayer recently, in a letter of appreciation to the Prabhodini. “They explain all the (steps) offerings during the pujas.”

Girish Manohar Mokashi who had a woman priest conduct his mother’s last rites says, “The eleventh day rituals were performed. It was a very satisfying and a noble experience. The rituals were explained to us. All (the) family members were made a part of the rituals. We thank the priest for making us feel very close and one with our mother.”

A priest has to be fluent in Sanskrit to be able to interpret the rituals to worshippers.

Madhuri Karvade recalls the most difficult part of her training was mastering Sanskrit. She told IPS: “It took me nine years to learn and pronounce the words in Sanskrit. I tried hard specially for the last rites. An old lady was so impressed that she has fixed my services for her last rites!”

What is the reaction of male priests to the invasion of their territory by women?

“It appears we (male priests) are not doing our job properly,” says a defensive Rajesh Khodke, 32, a journalist-turned-priest who is the rector of the boys hostel at Gyan Prabhodini, which is located off Tilak Road in the city. “Only women priests are grabbing attention. We too want to be noticed,” he complains.

Pradeep Deo, 55, who previously worked in a pharmacy, feels that too much is being made of the women priests. “Whether male or female, we just have to do our job,” he says.

Male priests still dominate the profession. “Societal attitudes are changing towards us, but the process is slow,” observes Arya.

According to Sunanda, whose 42-year-old divorced daughter is training to be a priest, the few times there has been scepticism about her capabilities, it has been from women. “When we are approached by families, everything goes well till the lady of the house sees us and says a polite no!”

“Women priests are committed and their expertise in conducting the pujas is widely acknowledged,” says Arya. “Yet they remain the second choice (after male priests), something that is going to take a long while to change.”