I would like to see India Empowered by the economic and social emancipation of its women (all 496 million of them)—not in theory, not by enacting laws, but in actual practice. How do we treat our womenfolk? In one word, badly. Our Constitution provides for equality between the sexes. But the Founding Fathers—we always use that expression because out of 197 members in the Constituent Assembly, only 10 were women!—the Founding Fathers realised that equality between the sexes was an aspiration, not a reality. So they empowered the State (that is Parliament and State Legislatures) to make ‘‘any special provision for women.’’ Now, after 56 years, despite all the special provisions made for women, the attitudes of men have not changed. The truth is that we are today still an over-poweringly male-dominated society. And you just cannot change chauvinist attitudes by making laws—this is only possible by a social consciousness and an enlightened understanding: in other words through meaningful education. Which prompts me to recall a story about the Mahabharata—not the story of old, but a story of modern times, a true story. A few years ago, Kartikeya Sarabhai, son of the great scientist Vikram Sarabhai, witnessed in Avignon (in France) the performance of the great Indian epic Mahabharata, a production by Peter Brooks. It depicts the entire tale of how Yudhishtra lost all his wealth in playing dice with Duryodhana and continued with the game even whilst continuously losing and ultimately offering his wife Draupadi as a wager. The tale is familiar—after he loses, Draupadi is fetched by force to the victor who starts removing her garments. And then a miracle occurs, fresh garments are seen to close her body, and good men praise God and weep. And then it goes on:‘‘Gambling they went, invited by DuryodhanaLost all they had, losing even themselvesI unspared was dragged into the court of menWhich were these bonds of DharmaThat tied my husbands?What kind of husbands these, that are tied by the Dharma of lies?’’ And the poem ends with a condemnation of the male gender for forsaking equality in practice: ‘‘Years went by, our lives we lived togetherStarted on our journey’s end towards the snow-clad HimalayasI fell first, no Pandava stretched a handTowards paradise they walked, no one stayed by my side.Then, I realised heaven too must be only for menBetter then to rest in the warm embrace of this snow.’’ The significance of the poem written with such spontaneity by an Indian male about Indian women highlights the difference between formal equality, hypocritically mouthed by us all and the actual inequality which the fate of Draupadi has eternally symbolised: the inequality that women have had to bear, and continue to suffer, even in present-day India.