The Odisha Story !

The Story of Elephants continue !

I keep repeating my story, like the carvings on the rock at Dhauli—etched over and over so truth cannot be erased.

Some mighty elephants twist my words, using their influence to steer society. Ironically, this is the same society that once hesitated to join me for a simple coffee or lunch in the cafeteria, afraid it might cost them a promotion. Their social media likes now? They mean nothing to me. What truly matters is the test elephant—the one who mistakes my grace for naivety.

If that elephant still marches on, it does so not upon truth, but on a foundation laid with lies and deceit.

In 2018, I was silenced. Decisions about my career were made in rooms where I didn’t exist. I watched strangers arrive uninvited, self-declared "Godfathers," targeting the one thing I held sacred—my autonomy and independence. They weren’t leaders. They were cowards cloaked in power.

And when things began to fall apart, they blamed competence. But it was never about competence. It was always about control—about reminding a woman that her autonomy could be bargained, that her dignity was conditional.

I lost parts of myself in that storm, but I refused to be erased. 

As a single, unmarried woman, I was treated like my rights were luxuries ; goal or the maximum —granted at someone else's convenience. 

Intelligence isn't just about reading what's written—it's about sensing what's left unspoken.

Have you ever observed how certain women dress in ways that seem intentionally provocative, as if inviting society’s gaze and its commentary? And right on cue, the so-called "guardians of DEI" step forward—playing the heroic saviors in a drama they were always part of. It's a carefully choreographed illusion, where provocation and protection are part of the same script, each fueling the other.

This is what inclusion has come to mean in some circles—not true belonging, but a theatre of indulgence. Inclusion, in such a system, is sometimes smuggled in under the guise of empowerment, while adultery and moral erosion find quiet acceptance. And all the while, the innocent—the true outliers, the forgotten potters—continue to be judged, harassed, and left behind. And the powerful assholes give it a name called Competence.

Rights are not charity. Rights are not the maximum. They are the bare minimum.

I went to the forests of Odisha, searching for the pieces of myself they tried to bury.
One the way back i visited Kalinga Udayagiri caves !
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Udayagiri_and_Khandagiri_caves

There was a feeling of Kalinga War !
HathiGumpha Inscription is found inside the caves !
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hathigumpha_inscription

HathiGumpha in Kalinga !

In 2018 , the system  silenced my choices, as if dignity wasn’t meant for someone like me.
But in the heart of a Kalinga cave, where emptiness held space, my mantra echoed back—only in the center of the cave,  never at the edges. And in that return, I heard myself again.

The tour guide felt like a messenger of Lord Ganesha. I captured his presence on video, but his message stayed in my soul.
After watching his demonstration, I recited the mantra myself—again and again from the center of the caves and then from the edges—until I could feel myself returning to me.

No Elephants are greater than Lord Himself !

Do you want to measure your worth ?

What the world often fails to see is that half of it is made up of women—many of whom have been taught to bury their own light, to surrender, to stay underground. But when a woman is pushed down underground, the balance of humanity is broken. And in that imbalance, no one truly rises.