The Quiet Power of Exile: What Sri Ram Teaches Us Even Today

The Quiet Power of Exile: What Sri Ram Teaches Us Even Today

Faith and belief are not just ideas we carry but emotions that stitch our lives together like threads. And in the heart of every devout Hindu, Sri Ram resides not merely as a deity, but as an ideal, a guide, a presence that shapes our understanding of life itself.
Perhaps, the Ramayana depicts one of the most profound paradoxes of life.
Think of Ayodhya, on the eve of Sri Ram's  coronation. The city is adorned, lamps are glowing and hearts full of joy. The throne stands ready and destiny appears certain. And then one conversation changes everything.
In place of a crown, there is exile.
In place of a palace, a forest for Sri Ram.
Not for a day or a season but for fourteen long years.
Within the palace, Sri Ram would have been a king among many.
But in the forest he became Maryada Purushottam, the highest embodiment of human virtue.
The forest did not diminish him; it revealed him.
It was there that he met Shabari , whose pure devotion shattered every barrier of caste and status, reminding the world that love and faith know no hierarchy. It was there he built bonds with the vanaras and allies that no royal court could have ever managed.
And then there is Prince Bharat,  perhaps one of the most quietly powerful figures in this epic. The one who was handed the kingdom by Sri Ram and refused to claim it. Instead, he ruled as a trustee, placing his brother’s sandals on the throne. The one who gained everything chose renunciation; the one who lost everything gained immortality.
What appeared to be a punishment became a preparation.
What looked like a loss became a legacy.
What seemed like an exile became the making of divinity.
And somewhere within this timeless story lies a truth for all of us.
How often do we feel exiled in our own lives? Through rejection, failure, or unexpected turns that take us far from where we thought we belonged? And yet, perhaps what we call exile is not punishment at all. Perhaps it is preparation. The forest, after all, is where transformation happens.
Recently, I was blessed to have darshan of Sri Ram, at the magnificent temple in Ayodhya. It is a temple with extraordinary architecture while being a testament to devotion, patience, and faith. Yet beyond the grandeur, it is the idol of Sri Ram that fills your heart with great joy.
The spiritual aura of Sri Ram extends beyond the temple. Other temples like the Dashrath Mahal, Sugreev Kila, Kanak Mandir, Hanumangarhi deepen our sense of bhakti.
And then there is the Sarayu, which is an emotion and not just a river. Its vastness, its gentle, cooling waters, its quiet rhythm seem to wash away not just fatigue, but the noise within. Standing by its banks, filled me with a sense of calm. Thoughts of Sita Maiyya made me calmer even as I remembered her grace, resilience and silent strength.
I had the fortune of visiting Ayodhya eight years ago, before the temple stands in its present glory. Coming again now was like witnessing history and faith come alive together. Today, Ayodhya has transformed into a grand spiritual center yet it's soul remains unchanged. 
The Ram Darbar, the intricate carvings in the temple, the devotees full of faith, the whole temple complex fills you with a joy which can never be expressed in words.
As we celebrate Rama Navami today, I am remembering the divine experience at Ram Janmabhoomi and also remembering my father, Raman.
He was spiritual and divine  in the way he lived with love, integrity, and quiet strength. His presence, his values, his warmth echoed the ideals that Sri Ram represents.
Ultimately faith is not something we read in stories but something which exists in all of us.  It is beyond temples or rituals, among the  people who shape us. My father had shaped me in the best way possible to do my best. My Journey to 
Ayodhya was not just a religious tour but also became  a time for reflection.
A realization  that sometimes, what we consider to be an exile is actually grace in disguise. And sometimes, we find our God's living within our hearts or in the memories of those we are closest to. As my father would have said, Sri Rama Jayam...Happy Rama Navami...

R.Vimala,  IAS, 

Resident Commissioner & Secretary, 

Government of Maharashtra & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

Daring and Doing: A Walk for a Cause

Daring and Doing: A Walk for a Cause
We had never walked the ramp before.
No training, no experience, no idea of  what to expect.
And yet, we said yes.
Because sometimes, a cause is bigger than fear.
It was also the first time we were organising a saree exhibition. And despite the challenges, it turned out to be an experience so deeply fulfilling that every moment felt worthwhile.
The Maharashtra Saree Festival in Delhi is not just an exhibition. It is a celebration of identity, tradition, and the countless hands that keep our heritage alive. While many know the beauty of Paithani, we wanted to go beyond and bring forward the richness of Irkal, Khann, Himroo, Karvat Kathi, Maheshwari and handloom sarees from Solapur. More importantly, we wanted the real stars, the weavers ,to be seen and heard.
That is how the idea of a ramp walk was born.
If these sarees had stories, then the ramp would be their voice.
And if this was about belief, then we had to be part of it ourselves.
A small group of officers and spouses came together, not as professionals, but as people who cared. What followed was a journey filled with  laughter, hesitation and excitement and lots of gushing. The rehearsal, a day before was like stepping into a new world. We had to choose our sarees, match it with  accessories. We also had to understand how to walk, because the concept was new, yet deeply meaningful.
Then came the moment.
The gentle rustle of silk or the smoothness of cotton, the drape of each saree, the final touch of makeup and suddenly, we were no longer just individuals. We were carrying a story, a tradition, a purpose.
As we stepped onto the ramp, something changed and the sarees came alive. 
Two segments were presented by Shikha's Kariigarii with professional models who brought grace and finesse to the ramp. The opening segment, featuring hand-painted handlooms with Warli, Madhubani, Pichwai and other art forms, was a beautiful reminder that when art meets textile, magic happens.
The last professional segment continued that elegance, setting the stage perfectly.
Our turn came in between both and included officers or their spouses. Daughters of two of our officers represented Gen Z, reminding us that even the younger generation is rediscovering and embracing the beauty and enduring value of sarees and our traditions.

It was an occassion filled with emotion perhaps not perfect in technique, but overflowing with pride and sincerity. It was not just a walk; it was a statement of belief in the weavers, in Maharashtra’s rich heritage and in the need to preserve it.
The finale was the most powerful moment of all.
The models completed the walk and stood on stage. The weavers walked in and joined them side by side. It was a sight that stayed with everyone. Their smiles, their quiet pride and the recognition which they truly deserved was the crowning glory of the evening.
A word of thanks to the choreographer and director, who instilled confidence in all of us and made the process possible for novices like us. And above all, gratitude to God, our guiding force  behind every step.
Seeing people carrying shopping bags filled with sarees from the stalls at the exhibition made us think about the weavers with joy in their eyes.  We knew this was more than just a show. It was connection, conviction and  impact which had begun with hope.
This ramp walk was not about glamour.
It was a walk for sustainability.
A walk to preserve our culture,  to honour the hands that weave stories into every thread.
And as we look ahead, there is only one wish, may the weaves and textiles of Maharashtra travel far and wide. May they find their way into wardrobes and hearts across the world.
Today is the last day of the festival. If you are in Delhi, this is something you should not miss. Let's come together to experience the beauty of Textiles, meet the weavers, and take home not just a saree, but a story.
Because when you walk for a cause, every step matters.

R.Vimala, IAS,
Resident Commissioner & Secretary,
Government of Maharashtra &
PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

A Festival of Threads: Maharashtra’s Saree Utsav at Delhi's New Maharashtra Sadan

A Festival of Threads: Maharashtra’s Saree Utsav at Delhi's New Maharashtra Sadan

There is a quiet grace in a saree that I can only feel and never be able to fully explain.
I have worn sarees to village meetings, in collector's offices and the state headquarters, Mantralay. I have also worn it to ceremonies and celebrations across the length and breadth of Maharashtra and our country. And in each one of those moments, the saree has made me belong to the place, to the people, to something larger than myself.
That is the unique and beautiful power of this six yards of cloth.
What strikes me most is that the saree never goes out of fashion because it was never simply fashion to begin with. Every generation discovers it on its own terms. Young women today drape it with imagination and ease, belted, styled, reinvented for boardrooms and runway alike. They are preserving a tradition and taking it forward. And yet, beneath every modern drape lies a deeper story. The story of the weaver.
For those of us who have spent years travelling through the districts of Maharashtra in public service, the saree is not just a garment. It is a map of the soil, the community and centuries of craft. Every region has its weave, every weave its people, every thread its memory.
It is this living map that will come alive at the Maharashtra Saree Utsav, to be held from 19th to 22nd March 2026, at New Maharashtra Sadan, Kasturba Gandhi Marg, New Delhi.
Among all sarees , if there is one saree that fascinates any woman the most, it is the Paithani.
I remember the first time I saw a Paithani being woven in intricate patterns at Paithan, the weaver's fingers moving with extraordinary deliberateness with warp and weft, creating a durable and luxurious fabric where motifs are visible on both sides,
A single saree took months in the making , sometimes a full year.The peacock motifs on the pallu, the blooming lotuses, the beloved bangdi-mor design, these are not decorations. They are signatures of a craft tradition that has adorned Maharashtrian brides for generations. In many families, a Paithani is not purchased ; it is inherited. Passed from mother to daughter along with stories of the occasion when it was first worn. So wearing a Paithani is, quite literally, like carrying a legacy on your shoulders.
Yet the soul of Maharashtra's textile is not only found in grandeur but also in textiles of everyday life.
The Khann fabric from Kolhapur is always charming with bold checks, geometric patterns, colours that catch the sun. It is a fabric that working women across western Maharashtra have trusted for generations. Sturdy, beautiful, unpretentious.
Then there is the Karvat Kathi,  distinguished by that signature saw-toothed border. It does not announce itself loudly. But once you notice it, you cannot stop noticing it. A quiet, graceful presence, much like the women who have worn it through decades of daily life.
These sarees remind me that true elegance rarely demands extravagance. At time , just simplicity, worn with dignity, has its own eloquence.
The Deccan plateau has a particular quality of light earthy, ancient, rugged. And its textiles carry exactly that character.
The Irkal saree, with its bold striped pallu and distinctive body-to-silk joining technique, has the rhythm of temple architecture in its patterns. The Narayanpeth, with its rich contrasting borders in deep reds, greens, and blacks, speaks in the quiet, assured language of the plateau itself.
These are sarees worn at rituals, family celebrations, harvests, and prayers. They carry not just colour, but continuity.
Few cities carry as many layers as Chatrapati Sambhaji Nagar in art, faith, and craftsmanship. The Himroo fabric is one of those layers. Born during the Deccan Sultanate period, Himroo combines cotton and silk to produce intricate brocade patterns of vines, flowers, and geometry. It looks regal, yet it remains accessible. It is, in many ways, a perfect textile reflection of what the Deccan has always been, a place where cultures met, exchanged, and created something new. Every Himroo weave carries a whisper of that confluence.
In Bhandara, the silk story is different from anything else you will encounter.Here, Tussar and Kosa silks are produced from silkworms that feed on forest trees ,wild, natural, seasonal. The resulting fibre has a golden warmth and a texture that no machine can replicate. You feel it the moment you touch it.
These textiles are sustainable not as a marketing gimmick, but as a lived reality. They are the product of forest ecosystems, traditional knowledge and communities that have practised this craft across generations.
The Maheshwari saree carries a name Ahilyadevi we all hold with reverence, as  Maharani Holkar.
She was a ruler who understood that governance is incomplete without culture. She invited weavers to Maheshwar, gave them patronage and purpose and what emerged was a textile of rare refinement, silk-cotton, reversible borders, a drape that is effortless and elegant in equal measure.
The Maheshwari saree is a reminder that good leadership does not only build roads and collect taxes. It also nurtures the crafts that give a people their identity.
When my hand touches a handloom saree, I always feel something that I cannot quite name. Perhaps, a rhythm. The memory of the loom in the thread. The patience of a craftsperson who sat for days to create what we hold in a moment.
Each slight irregularity in a handwoven saree is not a flaw. It is a signature. Proof that a its created by a human being not made by a machine.
These sarees are not relics. They are worn every day at weddings, offices, festivals, and quiet Sunday mornings. They evolve with every woman who adopts them and makes them her own.
The Maharashtra Saree Utsav at Maharashtra Sadan is an invitation  not just to buy a saree, but to understand it.
Understand the story about the motif on the pallu. Touch the difference between Tussar and Paithani silk. Listen to the stories that no label or price tag will ever tell you.
In a city that celebrates the finest traditions of India, this is four days of something rare, a chance to encounter craft that is still alive, still evolving, still being made by human hands for the women who will carry it forward.
Bring curiosity and appreciation. Bring your daughter or daughter-in-law, your mother or sister, your colleague or your friend who has never quite understood why sarees matter.
And perhaps take home not just a weave, but a world woven with patience, heritage, and quiet, enduring pride.
Because every time we choose a handloom saree, we do more than support a craftsperson.
We keep a civilisation alive ,one thread at a time.

R.Vimala,  IAS,
Resident Commissioner &
Secretary,  Government of Maharashtra & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 
Mumbai

अंधेरे के पार उजाला बड़ा हैं...

अंधेरे के पार उजाला बड़ा है...

आज क्यों दिल धड़कता है खामोशी में,
जैसे सवाल कोई, दिल की गहराइयों में।
भले ही धड़कन हमारे दिल की पहचान है,
कभी धुन खुशी की ,कभी दर्द की उड़ान है।
कभी बन कर के गीत जीवन को सजाती है,
कभी अनजाने डर की आहट सुनाती है।
कभी उम्मीद की लौ बन दिल को जलाती है,
कभी चिंताओं की रातों में चुपचाप समाती है।
कुछ धड़कनें हँसी की तरह हल्की लगती है,
कुछ धड़कनें ख़ामोशी से भारी बनतीं है।
कभी लगता है थम जाए धड़कन इसी पल,
और रुक जाये बेचैनी की यह कलकल
फिर उसी से मिल जाता जीने का संबल।
पलता उसी में ही उम्मीदों का एक पल
दिल है तो धड़कन है, रीत उसकी यही है
और रुक जाये गर तो दुनिया नहीं है
सच हर धड़कन में छुपा संदेश यही है
अँधेरा चाहे जितना हो, सवेरा दूर नहीं है।
तो मुस्कराकर के जियो,  ग़म में क्या रखा हैं
क्योंकि अंधेरे के पार उजाला बड़ा हैं...

मन विमल

Women’s Day : From Pedestal to Partnerships...

Women’s Day : From Pedestal to Partnerships...

Every year on 8th March, the world celebrates International Women’s Day. Phones begin to buzz with greetings from morning. Social media is full of messages praising women. Institutions organise special events. Suddenly, women are celebrated as mothers, sisters, daughters and wives. Words like Devi, Shakti and superwoman are generously used. It is a day when womanhood is celebrated and women are placed on a pedestal.
Yet behind these celebrations lies a quieter reality. Women constitute nearly half of India’s population. The country’s sex ratio has improved in recent years, with surveys indicating around 1020 women for every 1000 men. And yet, in many spheres of life, education, employment, safety and leadership  equality still remains a work in progress.
This contrast raises a simple question: is Women’s Day merely a celebration, or is it also a reminder?
Does society recognise the place of women in society, or are they simply rituals that last for a day before life quietly returns to normal?
Some women appreciate the celebration even if for a day because it highlights the issue of gender justice. Others feel that celebrating one day in the name of women sometimes creates an illusion that disappears the moment the day is over. The truth perhaps lies somewhere in between. If the day encourages us to reflect honestly on the position of women in society, it certainly serves a purpose.
Personally, I consider myself fortunate. I was born into a family where boys and girls were treated equally. We were four siblings, two boys and two girls. Times were not easy, but our parents ensured that all of us received the best education they could provide. They never stopped us from speaking our minds or pursuing our interests.
As a child, I was often outspoken and outgoing but that never became an issue at home. Each of us was allowed to grow with our own personality. That upbringing gave me the confidence to face life and shaped the person I eventually became.
But I am also aware that not every woman grows up in such an environment.
Even today, many women live within invisible boundaries. Some do not have access to education. Some lack financial independence. Many remain confined within the expectations of family and society. Sometimes it is fear, sometimes lack of resources, and sometimes simply years of conditioning that prevent them from stepping out of those boundaries.
Education levels highlight progress and inequality of a society. India’s literacy rate has improved significantly over the decades and is almost 80 percent today Yet a gender gap still exists. Male literacy is around 87 percent, while female literacy remains about 74–75 percent.
On paper, the difference may appear modest. In reality, it represents millions of girls whose education stops too early.
Even women who appear successful often reach that position after making many sacrifices that remain unseen. For women, the path to progress has rarely been easy.
It is also important to understand that equality does not mean sameness. Men and women are biologically different and that is natural. Gender equality does not mean women must become like men or compete with them. It does not mean giving up femininity or entering into a constant battle between genders.
Equality simply means dignity and opportunity. It means that women should have the same chance to study, to work, to participate in decisions and to lead.
In many ways, society has progressed. Women today are visible in almost every profession. The glass ceiling has certainly cracked. But it has not completely disappeared. Women often have to prove themselves again and again in situations where men are accepted more easily.
One clear indicator is economic participation. Women’s participation in the workforce in India is still far lower than that of men. Estimates suggest that only about one-third of women are part of the labour force, compared to more than two-thirds of men.
This gap cannot be explained by lack of ability or education alone. Social norms, safety concerns, lack of childcare support and the burden of unpaid domestic work continue to limit many women’s opportunities.
Biases also continue to exist quietly in people’s minds. We can see this in the low number of women in positions of political leadership. Even in local governance where reservations exist for women, it is not uncommon to see male relatives exercising real power behind the scenes.
Education shows a similar picture. While more girls are going to school today, dropout rates remain high in many places. Professional choices are still influenced by stereotypes.
Another disturbing reality is the continued violence and harassment faced by women. Official crime statistics record over four lakh cases of crimes against women in India each year. These numbers represent only reported cases. The true scale may be far larger.
News reports frequently remind us that respect for women is still far from guaranteed. In many spaces, women are still judged more for their appearance than their ability.
But beyond all these structural challenges, there is another burden that many women carry silently, the burden of guilt.
A woman’s day rarely belongs to just one role. She may be a mother, a daughter, a wife, a professional, a caregiver and a leader, all at the same time. While society talks about equality, the expectation that she must perform every role perfectly often falls heavily on her.
If she spends more time at work, she worries about neglecting her family. If she prioritises her home, she worries about falling behind professionally. Many women constantly feel that they are not doing enough in one role or the other.
Interestingly, men are rarely expected to experience this kind of guilt. Even today, the emotional wellbeing of children and the overall functioning of the family are seen mainly as the responsibility of women. Time-use surveys show that women in India spend three to four times more hours on unpaid household and caregiving work than men.
Perhaps true equality will begin when these responsibilities are seen as shared responsibilities.
Our own culture actually offers a beautiful way of looking at this balance. In many Indian traditions, a wife is called Ardhaangini, literally meaning “half of the whole.” The word itself suggests that a man and a woman together form a complete unit.
If that idea had truly guided society, the question of inequality may never have arisen.
An even more powerful symbol exists in the concept of Ardhanareeshwar, the divine form that represents Shiva and Shakti together in one body. Half masculine, half feminine, yet completely balanced.
The message is simple. Creation itself depends on the harmony between these two energies. Neither is superior. Neither is inferior. Both are necessary.
Unfortunately, somewhere between philosophy and everyday life, this balance has often been lost.
During my years of working with rural communities through the Maharashtra State Rural Livelihood Mission, I have seen both the struggles and the strength of women very closely. Women who used to hesitate to speak in weekly meetings of the self-help groups are managing the groups, their savings, negotiating with banks and running small enterprises.
Many of them had nothing to invest but with the support of the SHGs could build something meaningful for themselves and their families and communities.
They may not be making news or appear in headlines, but they represent the true spirit of empowerment.
My academic work on the multi-dimensional socio-economic and legal impact of desertion on deserted women reflects their hardship and social stigma. But their resilience even in those difficult situations, is remarkable.
Women do not seek sympathy but an opportunity to stand on their own feet with dignity.
My experiences over the years have convinced me that empowerment is not about glorifying women or placing them on a pedestal. It is about restoring balance.
Perhaps that is the real purpose of Women’s Day.
Not to worship women as goddesses for a day, but to recognise them as equal partners in the journey of life.
A healthy society cannot be built when one gender tries to dominate the other. It can only be built when men and women walk together with mutual respect and understanding.
If the spirit of Ardhangini and the philosophy of Ardhanareeshwar truly guide us, the path forward becomes clear.
And perhaps one day we will reach a stage where such reminders are no longer needed.
Until then, Women’s Day remains a moment to pause and reflect not on how extraordinary women are, but on something much simpler and far more important. That women, like men, are human beings with dreams, abilities and the right to live with dignity.

R.Vimala, IAS, 

Resident Commissioner  & Secretary, 

 Government of Maharashtra & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay