Kanchan Yadav

Aakrosh is a film that will remain etched in my memory forever — not for its grandeur or drama, but for the raw truth it portrays. The state of affairs, the plight of poor women, and the devastating impact of injustice on a common man — everything in this movie hits hard and stays with you. At first, I couldn’t help but feel anger toward Lahnya. He appears to have committed the most heinous crime imaginable — killing his own sister. In court, he stands silent, refusing to answer even a single question from the advocate. His silence feels like arrogance. It’s easy to assume his entire tribe must be criminal and inhumane — a people devoid of values, ignorant of the law, and unworthy of trust. This perception seems to strengthen when a social worker tries to reach Lahnya’s family. Despite his best intentions and relentless efforts, the family remains unresponsive. They turn a deaf ear to him. Even after risking his life to reach them, facing threats and hostility from the villagers, he...

When I think of school mornings, I remember two things: the weight of my school bag, and the tug of my Dadi’s hands gently braiding my waist-length hair. Me in my Dadi’s lap while my elder sister smiles at the camera. Back then, I used to sit cross-legged on the floor, grumbling about how long it took, while she sat behind me on the edge of the bed, her fingers moving with rhythmic precision. Without fail, each day, she would tell me the same story—word for word, with the same pauses, the same expressions. "Beta, jaise paudhon ko paani nahi doge toh wo nahi ugte, waise hi agar baalon ko tel nahi doge toh wo nahi badhenge." (If you don’t water plants, they don’t grow. Likewise, if you don’t oil your hair, it won’t grow.) And just like every day, I would pretend to hear it for the first time. Truth be told, I never liked oiling my hair. It made my scalp feel greasy, and my hair, sticky and outdated. It wasn’t cool . While she lovingly warmed up coconut oil and massaged my ...

It was my second visit to Jhabua in November 2024. As I sat with Nitin ji, engrossed in conversations that often wove seamlessly between development and grassroots transformation, he shared an idea that sparked curiosity within me. He spoke of an internship programme -  Jatan , a gateway for individuals to not just observe rural life but to immerse themselves in its rhythm, to feel its pulse, and eventually become a part of the grand narrative of change. At the time, I listened with interest, appreciating the vision but unaware of how deeply it would soon intertwine with my own journey. The conversation took its own course, but what I didn’t know then was that I was on the verge of being part of something historic -- the Gram Samruddhi Navkumbh , a confluence that would leave an indelible mark on my perception of grassroots leadership and collective empowerment. The Navkumbh was a sight to behold, over 5,000 village leaders from Jhabua and Alirajpur , standing together as cus...