What India’s Successful Moon Landing Means for Space Exploration

India is now the fourth country to land on the moon, and its lunar rover is making some big waves in space exploration.

The Chandrayaan-3 lunar exploration craft was launched from the south of India on July 14. Sky News. CC BY-SA-NC 2.0

On August 23, the Indian Space Research Organization (ISRO) landed its Chandrayaan-3 craft near the moon’s south pole, marking both the country’s first ever moon landing and the world’s first on that specific lunar region. Not only has this achievement finally placed India among the ranks of other space exploring nations, but has also made it one of only four countries to land a craft on the moon. The location of the craft’s landing near the unexplored south pole is significant given the multiple failed attempts by other nations to do just that in the past and stake a claim to lead future research in the area. Chandrayaan-3’s successful landing will hopefully cement the credibility of the ISRO on the international playing field and allow for continued collaboration with other foreign space agencies. During its two-week lifespan, the rover investigated the existence of frozen water deposits beneath the surface of the moon, and has made a number of surprising discoveries that orbiting crafts were unable to.

A digital rendering of the Chandrayaan-3 craft and its lunar rover. NDTV. CC BY-NC 2.0

While India’s space program was first established in 1962, it took another decade or two for the ISRO to really pick up steam. Many of the first projects involved sending satellites up into Earth’s orbit in order to map and survey the country from above, bringing telemedical and communication services to communities in remote regions. Chandrayaan, a Sanskrit term meaning “mooncraft,” is the name of India’s lunar exploration program, which made its debut between 2008 and 2009 with the Chandrayaan-1 lunar space probe, which found water deposits on the moon using various mapping techniques and reflection radiation. The next craft, launched in 2019, was comprised of an orbiter, moon lander and rover, and was actually intended to be the first to land on the south pole of the moon, but after successfully entering lunar orbit, the ISRO lost communication with the landing craft and rover before touchdown. 

Chandrayaan-3 is therefore the culmination of more than a decade of scientific research and technological development and is undoubtedly the crown jewel in India’s space program. The probe was launched on July 14 from Sriharikota Range, the country’s largest launch site located in the southern state of Andhra Pradesh, and successfully touched down on the moon on August 23. Unlike its recent predecessor, the Chandrayaan-3 traveled without an orbiter module, further cementing its intention to land on the moon and conduct experiments in situ. Additionally, while this craft was unambiguously an Indian project and creation, some of the technology on board resulted from various collaborations between the ISRO, NASA and the European Space Agency (ESA), proving once again the importance and benefits of scientific collaboration.

Students in India watch a video explaining the lunar mission. Al Jazeera. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Aside from proving that landing on the south pole of the moon is indeed possible, the information sent back by the Chandrayaan-3 rover has already resulted in some groundbreaking discoveries about the moon. One such finding has to do with understanding the temperature of lunar soil, an important factor when considering building long-lasting structures or even settlements on the moon. The Indian rover is equipped with a temperature probe that can reach nearly four inches (10 cm) beneath the surface, and found that the temperature drops 140ºF (60ºC) at a depth of just roughly 3.14 inches (8 cm). This has provided an updated and more accurate reading as compared to the data currently in use from NASA’s 2009 Lunar Reconnaissance mission, which lacked precision because it was an orbiter and therefore not actually on the lunar surface. Another interesting discovery took place in the form of a series of strange vibrations detected by the rover’s seismograph: scientists have suspected it as being a minor moonquake, although further exploration and longer-term observations would need to confirm this.

While these scientific discoveries are of course extremely significant and promising for the future of lunar exploration and research, the Chandrayaan-3 project also set a historic precedent in terms of the budget they used to complete this mission. The ISRO has a long held reputation amongst international space research circles for their ability to work on limited funds, at least compared to other major space exploration agencies. NASA, for example, has a $25.4 billion budget for the current fiscal year, while the ISRO received a measly $1.5 billion from the Indian government for the fiscal year ending this March by comparison. If that wasn’t enough, the ISRO actually spent 25% less than what it had been allocated. The Chandrayaan-3 mission cost a total of $74.3 million USD, ironically less than half of the budget that director Christopher Nolan had to make Interstellar, his award winning film about space travel.

The actual Chandrayaan-3 craft before it was launched into space. The Week. CC BY-SA 2.0

In addition to finally taking its place amongst the other lunar landing nations, Chandrayaan-3 has opened countless doors for both the ISRO and the space exploration community as a whole. Going forward, the example that this mission has set with regards to the resources it used as well as through the international collaboration it benefitted from. The moon’s south pole has now been unequivocally proven accessible and investigable, new information about lunar composition has been brought to light, and like all other missions into space, has helped to deepen our understanding of both the universe and ourselves.

Tanaya Vohra

Tanaya is an undergraduate student pursuing a major in Public Health at the University of Chicago. She's lived in Asia, Europe and North America and wants to share her love of travel and exploring new cultures through her writing.

An LGBTQ+ Wedding in India Challenges Sikh Tradition

Criticism of a same-sex Indian wedding in Punjab inspires advocacy for LGBTQ+ rights.

LGBTQ+ Protest in India. Ramesh Lalwani. CC BY 2.0

On 18 September, Dimple and Manisha — a same-sex couple — were married in a Sikh temple in the northern state of Punjab, India. Currently, same-sex marriages are not recognized by the Indian legal system because of the country’s laws that define marriage as the union between a man and woman. Because of this, the wedding has been declared, “unnatural and contrary to Sikh ethics,” by priest Giani Raghbir Singh, despite adherence to all the traditional Sikh rituals between a bride and groom. The event has made headlines in the northern state of Punjab, where it has resonated with those advocating for LGBTQ+ rights.

The wedding has been criticized by some religious leaders who believe that despite a commitment to Sikh traditions, the union is ultimately a “severe moral and religious violation.” This has sparked controversy with LGBTQ+ activists who, in the last decade, have made significant advances in extending LGBTQ+ rights. In 2018, India’s highest court overturned the criminalization of same-sex relations, a major milestone for the LGBTQ+ community that helped to reduce both legal and social discrimination. However, the central government still remains opposed to same-sex marriage, and is supported in this by many of the country’s major religious lobby groups — Hindu, Muslim, Christian and Sikh. Important Sikh religious leaders in the past have described homosexuality as, “against the Sikh religion,” and “totally against the laws of nature.”

Echoing these beliefs, Sikhism’s highest priest, Giani Raghbir Singh, found that the union between the two women was in violation of the religious code of conduct. Priest Hardev Singh, who conducted the marriage, has been removed from his position and may face more punitive measures for his involvement. However, Dimple, as a practicing Sikh, insisted he marry following Sikh rituals. The couple had a traditional wedding; Dimple dressed in traditional Sikh garb with customary flowers on his turban while Manisha wore a tunic, salwar bottoms, a silk scarf and red bangles. Because of the dedication of the couple to being married in a traditional Sikh ceremony, the reaction that they’ve received has left a bit of a blurred line between whether there is opposition to the LGBTQ+ community or traditions that it deviates from.

The overturning of section 377, a colonial-era law that categorized gay sex as an “unnatural offense,” was been most contested by religious groups. The judges involved in overturning this judgment have made statements reading that, “Criminalizing carnal intercourse is irrational, arbitrary, and manifestly unconstitutional,” while religious organizations have found the ruling to be shameful. Similar to India, Uganda has similar laws that date back to the colonial period. More recently, Ugandan president Yoweri Museveni signed the Anti-homosexuality act criminalizing same-sex conduct, which punishes offenders with life imprisonment or the death penalty for “aggravated homosexuality.” At All Saints’ Cathedral in Kampala, homosexuality is viewed as a sin that is against the “order of God.” Museveni, rooted in his Anglican faith, says the law prescribes rehabilitation for homosexuals to change their sexual orientation. Unlike Uganda, India appears to be more progressive in its approach to LGBTQ+ rights, especially in the marriage of Dimple and Manisha. Their wedding has not been deemed a felony, and although it is being investigated on the basis of religious violations that may invalidate the legitimacy of the marriage, the couple will not be condemned to prison or death.


Currently in the process of hearing arguments in favor of same-sex marriage, India has seen petitions regarding the Special Marriage Act of 1954. This act was amended to allow for marriage between couples from different castes or religions and petitioners have argued that it can be extended to LGBTQ+ citizens. However, the Modi government still argues that same-sex marriage represents an “urban elitist view” and has to keep in mind the views of religious denominations before making a decisive decision. The influence of religious traditions in India has been a significant factor contributing to the issues faced in the process of legalizing some LGBTQ+ rights, highlighting the indistinct line drawn between beliefs and social progress.

Mira White

Mira is a student at Brown University studying international and public affairs. Passionate about travel and language learning, she is eager to visit each continent to better understand the world and the people across it. In her free time she perfects her French, hoping to someday live in France working as a freelance journalist or in international affairs.

India’s Third Gender — Hijra

Despite being protected within the Indian constitution, hijra communities experience persecution. Their colonies are often sites of abuse and poverty, yet serve as the only space in Indian society for their identity.

Image by Carol Foote

India’s third gender includes a few different groups, but the most common are the hijras. The hijra identity is complex; some are born male but dress in traditionally feminine ways, some are born intersex, some seek gender reassignment procedures, and some choose to be castrated as an offering to the Hindu goddess of chastity and fertility, Bahuchara Mata, granting them their religious powers. Outsiders tend to associate them as transgender, but Indian society considers them to be the third gender — not male, not female, not transitioning. The one defining characteristic of hijras is that they leave their homes from a young age to become a part of the hijra community, where they teach their lessons in secret. These communities exist on the outskirts of society, where they are often shunned by their families and at the mercy of police authorities. 

Image by Carole Foote

For centuries, trans, intersex and genderqueer individuals abandoned by their families have been initiated into the hijra community by gurus within the system. From the age of 12 or 13, hijras trade their relationships with their families for a relationship with a guru who takes on the role of  of parent, teacher and boss. The gurus are expected to teach each hijra the chela, or the disciple, in the hijra way of life. This includes learning their rituals, how to manage a household and how to make a living. Gurus are expected to treat the hijras like their children, but their ability to dictate how a hijra works, what they earn and even who they see maintains a hold over their lives that many activists consider a systemic form of bonded labor. 

Image by Carol Foote

These communities operate within a pyramid system where the “chelas,” or the hijra students, are divided into hierarchies by their work. At the top of the pyramid are the senior-most chelas, who sing and dance. Below them are the chelas who beg and collect alms in exchange for blessings at events. And lastly, at the bottom of the chela pyramid are the sex workers. In addition to their work, chelas are expected to take on chores that serve their guru. Regardless of how a hijra earns their money, a portion of it will go to their gurus. 

Image by Carol Foote

The founder of online transgender community Transgender India, Neysara, told NewsNewslaundry,aundry, an independent news media company in India, that the hijra community is “not a child-friendly place equipped to handle trauma.” She went on to say that, “What is vulnerable is trafficable and most that join are disenfranchised.” Neysara recalled turning to the hijra community at a time when she was young and scared. “When my family was trying to honor-kill me, I sought the hijra jamaat for help. They outright told me that I [...] could only stay with them if I do sex work and earn for them.” Honor killings are committed by a male family member seeking to protect the dignity of their family against someone they believe has brought them shame. It was sex work or death.

Image by Carol Foote

Hijras have been a part of Indian life for more than a thousand years. Evidence of their existence within Hindu society can be found inside holy texts like the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, where Arjuna became the third gender. Throughout South Asian history, third-gender people have often held positions of high power. For example, during the Mughal Empire in the 15th to 19th centuries, Hindu and Muslim rulers were considerate advocates of the third gender, and many rose to significant positions, even serving as the sexless watchdogs of Mughal harems. In Hinduism, their high regard is marked by their loyalty to Lord Rama, when hijras waited at the edge of the forest for 14 years until he returned to Ayodhya after being exiled.

Image by Carol Foote

The hijras’ religious backgrounds tend to center around traditions that blend Hinduism and Islam. The practice of removing genitalia is something stigmatized in a normal Indian community, however, it’s this act that is the source of their sacred power and legitimizes their role in society. According to tradition, when a hijra is castrated their genitalia is offered to the Hindu Mother Goddess, Bahuchara Mata. The Mother Goddessworks alongside Muslim saints to transform the sacrifice of their ability to procreate into the power to bestow fertility and good luck onto others. The hijras give blessings at births and weddings to grant new couples and their newborn children fertility and prosperity. Intersex people, transgender women and infertile men are considered to be called upon by the goddess to become a hijra. Should they ignore the call, it is believed that they will pay the price of being impotent for the next seven lives they have on Earth. 

Image by Carol Foote

The castration surgery is performed by a guru and takes place without an anesthetic. The operation is illegal and life-threatening and has led some Indian regions to consider offering a medical alternative free of charge. However, because of tradition, the sacred sacrifice is performed in absolute secrecy and never spoken of. Following the surgery, new hijras recover in semi-seclusion and eat a special diet for 40 days. Afterward, they conduct a special ceremony where they're dressed as brides and blessed with the power of Bahuchara Mata. From this moment on, they are given new names and new identities. Articles in the India Times and India Today have reported how this system has been forced upon young and at-risk men, who are then pressured into prostituion and homosexuality. 

Image by Carol Foote

Even though hijras were treated with respect for thousands of years, much of their societal downfall can be attributed to Hinduism’s encounter with colonialism. The British colonized most of South Asia in the 19th and 20th centuries, and their Christian beliefs did not prepare them for their confrontation with the third gender. In 1871, the British named all hijras hereditary criminals and ordered authorities to arrest them. The law gave police the power of increased surveillance over the community, who went as far as to compile registers of hijras. A historian named Dr. Jessica Hinchy told BCC that, "Registration was a means of surveillance and also a way to ensure that castration was stamped out and the hijra population was not reproduced." 

Image by Carol Foote

Even though the law was repealed once India regained its independence, 200 years of stigmatization took a toll. Today, hijras are almost always excluded from employment and education outside of their religious roles. They are often stricken by poverty and forced to resort to begging and prostitution. Most are victims of violence and abuse, harassed by police and refused treatment in hospitals. 

Image by Carol Foote

In a step forward, India’s Supreme Court officially recognized hijras as a third gender in August of 2014, in a law that ordered the government to provide third gender people with quotas in jobs and education. The ruling came just six months after the Supreme Court’s decision to re-criminalize homosexual acts through the reversal of a 2009 Delhi High Court order.Despite being legally recognized and protected under the Indian Constitution, the court’s choice meant that hijras would be breaking the law if they participated in consensual homosexual relations. 

Image by Carol Foote

As Neysara told NewsLaundry, “without trans representation, laws made by cis people for the ‘other’ can be damaging.” Prior progress gained seemed to be lost in 2019 when activists protested the Transgender Persons Act. According to Ajita Banerjie, a Delhi-based gender and sexuality rights researcher, this “set the whole movement back by a decade.” 

Image by Carol Foote

Today, as many as half a million members of the Indian hijra community live within the guru-chela system. Despite facing discrimination, abuse and living on the margins of society, the community continues to “remain a visible presence in public space, public culture, activism and politics in South Asia," Dr. Jessica Hinchy told BBC. On a high note, NewsLaundry says that policy-led interventions have been advocated by stakeholders in the system, with the mission to integrate “trans folks into mainstream society to reduce and ultimately end their dependency on this system, if not the system itself.” 

ABOUT THE PHOTOGRAPHER:

Carol is based in Queensland Australia and has always been drawn to street photography, searching out the most colourful and quirky characters in her own environment. After studying documentary photography at college, she travelled to Yunnan, China to photograph the wide diversity of ethnic minorities in the region. However, over the past five years, her focus has shifted to Tibet, Nepal and India. As someone who has always been drawn to unique and different cultures, the regions rich heritage and local traditions make it a haven for her style of photography.

Check out more of Carol’s work here.

Claire Redden

Claire Redden is a freelance journalist from Chicago, where she received her Bachelor’s of Communications from the University of Illinois. While living and studying in Paris, Claire wrote for the magazine, Toute La Culture. As a freelancer she contributes to travel guides for the up and coming brand, Thalby. She plans to take her skills to London, where she’ll pursue her Master’s of Arts and Lifestyle Journalism at the University of Arts, London College of Communication. 

Glacial Avalanche in Himalayas Draws Attention to Climate Change

The topic of climate change is widely discussed in political and scientific circles; while many wholly deny the concept, others experience its consequences firsthand. In the most recent example of climate change’s widespread impacts, natives of the Himalayas have taken a firm stand in protecting their homes. 

Pristine Himalayas—for now. David Zanchettine. CC BY-NC 2.0. 

Just over a month into 2021, the climate crisis struck the Indian Himalayas when a portion of a massive glacier in Uttarakhand state broke off. The incident occurred at the base of Nanda Devi, India’s second-tallest mountain; the gargantuan mountain’s lower slopes are peppered with villages where locals raise cattle. The incident was exacerbated by a snowball event: the avalanche struck construction sites, pushing more deadly debris toward locals. Villages were obliterated by the falling debris, while a raging river of melted ice shot down rocky hillsides. Officials claim that over 200 are missing, many of whom were workers on construction sites; 30 people have been declared dead. The cause of the slide has not been fully determined, but officials suspect that warming of the ice due to climate change caused the rocks to slide off with greater ease. 

As tragic as this recent incident was, it was not the first episode of the Himalayan climate crisis and certainly will not be the last. The Himalayas are already vulnerable to catastrophic weather changes, especially during the monsoon season. However, it is the human-caused damage that locals are imploring the government to prevent. 

India faces a daunting dilemma with the Himalayan climate crisis. Many residents of the hilly landscape live in poverty, so the government has jump-started many development projects to help the local population. However, as well-intentioned as this work may have been, it has proven deadly to the area’s residents. Many argue that the ecosystem of the Himalayas is simply too fragile to sustain such heavy construction. Locals explain that the rocky area is prone to landslides, and the ever-rising temperatures leave glaciers closer to their melting point. In addition, climate change has contributed to unpredictable weather patterns in the area, which further adds to the locals’ anxiety of potential catastrophes. Yet, the government has chosen to continue the projects anyway. As a result, human interference with the landscape compounded with rising temperatures due to climate change leave residents constantly teetering on the edge of disaster. 

Little can be said at the moment of what kind of change lies ahead for India’s Himalayan population. However, what can be said is that failure to act swiftly will guarantee a deadly future for the area’s residents. 

To Get Involved:

To learn more about how the India Development and Relief Fund approaches disaster relief in the region, click here. 

To look into ways to help with disaster relief through volunteering for the India Development and Relief Fund, click here. Telecommuting is available for most positions.

Ella Nguyen

Ella is an undergraduate student at Vassar College pursuing a degree in Hispanic Studies. She wants to assist in the field of immigration law and hopes to utilize Spanish in her future projects. In her free time she enjoys cooking, writing poetry, and learning about cosmetics.

BANGLADESH: From No-Man's Land to the Unknown

For decades, more than 50,000 people have been stranded, without access to basic rights, on tiny islands of no-man's land locked within India and Bangladesh. Last year finally saw an end to these enclaves, or 'chitmahals,' bringing hope and change to communities living on the world's most complex border. 

The party lasted long into the night across remote patches of northern Bangladesh. As the clock struck midnight people played music, danced and sang using candles for light, and for the first time in their villages they raised a national flag. Similar events were also taking place on the other side of the border in India just a stone’s throw away. 

For 68 years, ever since the formation of East Pakistan in 1947 (which later became known as Bangladesh), the residents of one of the world’s greatest geographical border oddities have been waiting for this moment; for their chance to finally become part of the country that has surrounded yet eluded them for so many years.

At 12.01am on July 31st, 2015, India and Bangladesh finally exchanged 162 tracts of land — 111 inside Bangladesh and 51 inside India. 

Known in geographical terms as enclaves, or locally as chitmahals, these areas can most easily be described as sovereign pieces of land completely surrounded by another, entirely different, sovereign nation.

ABOVE: Inside an enclave, a man prepares jute by removing the long, soft vegetable fibres that can be spun into coarse, strong threads, and keeping the sticks. For many enclave dwellers, jute is where most of their income comes from and also what they use to build their houses. 

Enclaves aren’t as rare as you may think, and until now this part of South Asia has contained the vast majority. Existing around the world, mostly in Europe and the former Soviet Union, they were once much more prevalent — until modern day cartography and accurately defined borders eliminated many. Some still remain, such as the Belgium town of Baarle-Hertog, which is full of Dutch territory. The locals have turned the unusual border into a tourist attraction. However, for this region of southern Asia, where political and religious tensions run high, the existence of enclaves is not so jovial. Life for those who are from these areas is far harder than in neighboring villages, only minutes away.

ABOVE: Sisters Lobar Rani Bormoni, 11, and Shapla Rani Bormoni, 12, stand in a paddy field in the enclave in Bangladesh where they born. 

“These enclaves are officially recognised by each state, but remain un-administered because of their discontinuous geography. Enclave residents are often described as “stateless” in that they live in zones outside of official administration — since officials of one country cannot cross a sovereign frontier into administered territory,” explains Jason Cons, a Research Assistant Professor at the LBJ School of Public Affairs at the University of Texas, Austin and author of the forthcoming book, ‘Sensitive Space: Fragmented Territory at the India-Bangladesh Border.’

ABOVE: Muslim men from Dhoholakhagrabari enclave pray in their mosque. Mosques are usually the only solid structures that exist inside the enclaves.

Several folktales tell of the origin of these enclaves being the stakes in a game of chess between two feuding maharajas in the 18th century, or even the result of a drunken British officer who spilt spots of ink on the map he drew during partition in 1947. Captivating as these stories are, the most likely explanation dates back to 1711 when a peace treaty was signed between the feuding Maharajah of Coch Behar and the Mughal Emperor in Delhi. After the treaty their respective armies retained and controlled areas of land, where the local people had to pay tax to the respective ruler, thus creating pockets of land controlled by different people.

Prior to 1947, when this region was entirely Indian territory, living in these locally-controlled enclaves made little difference. However, during the drawing of the boundary between India and Bangladesh, the Maharajah of Coch Behar asked to join India — on the condition that he retain all his land, including that inside the newly formed East Pakistan, which his ancestors had rightly won control of over 200 years ago.

So, through no fault of their own, the lives of 50,000 people turned upside down — for decades they have been stranded on islands of no-man’s land.

ABOVE: (Left) A man fishes at dusk using his large bamboo fish trap. This river exists just outside the enclave but as it’s in Bangladesh territory, enclave dwellers are forbidden to fish here otherwise angering the local fishermen. (Right) Enclave dwellers fish in a flooded paddy. 

During the early 1970s a framework to find a solution to this problem was put in place — called the 1974 Land Boundary Agreement. For forty years, as governments came and went, neither the Indian nor the Bangladeshi politicians were able to agree with their counterparts at the time. And whilst the politicians squabbled, the residents suffered.

ABOVE: Only informal work, like at this sawmill, is available for enclave dwellers in Bangladesh. 

On the ground there are no border fences or security checkpoints, and without realising it, you can walk in and out of India countless times, crossing an international boundary completely obliviously. However, there is a serious lack of infrastructure and this has been one of the most serious problems facing the residents. Paved roads quite literally stop at the boundaries to the chitmahals, as do electricity poles. The enclave inhabitants in Debiganj District of Bangladesh, as non-Bangladeshi citizens, were even barred from sending their children to school, also receiving no state assistance or even the most basic of hospital treatment.

ABOVE: Sheltered within their small bamboo house, located inside the enclave of Dhoholakhagrabari, Eity Rani, 14, and Shobo Rai, 8, carefully do their homework by the light of an oil lamp. Life is much harder for children who are born in enclaves.

ABOVE: (Right) A Bangladeshi man sits in a shop in the market of a small town that sits between enclaves. (Left) Every Saturday a jute market is held in Debiganj. For the many inhabitants of the enclaves that surround the town, jute is where most of their income comes from. 

Wearing just a lungi — a traditional sarong worn around the waist — Sri Ajit Memo is sitting in the middle of a small muddy courtyard, surrounded by houses made of bamboo and jute sticks. At 55 years old, his family have lived in a Dhoholakhagrabari chitmahal for generations. Chewing on the twig of a certain tree that locals here use as an alternative to toothpaste, he explains, “All kinds of problems exist here. The government doesn’t care about us, or our children, and so it’s very difficult for them to even go to school. Honestly, we are Indian, but how can we feel this way when we get no help from them?”

For enclave dwellers on both sides of the Indian-Bangladeshi border, the entitlement to receive even the most basic of rights has eluded them.

Reece Jones, an Associate Professor in Political Geography at the University of Hawai’i Manoa, who has visited many chitmahals on both sides of the border, explains further, “After decades in this situation many people have found ways around it through bribes to officials or through friends who helped them to obtain the documents they needed, such as school enrolment forms for their children. However, the situation was not stable or secure. They were extremely vulnerable to theft and violence because the police had no jurisdiction in the enclaves.”

ABOVE: Rupsana Begum, 7, (pink dress) and Monalisa Akter, 7, (orange dress) are from an enclave but were able to come and study at Sher-e-Bangla Government School because their parents managed to acquire fake documents and were able to pay the school.

ABOVE: In Dhoholakhagrabari enclave students and their teacher sit in a madrassa class. Because enclave children have a difficult time accessing the education system in Bangladesh the locals of this enclave formed an Islamic Foundation funded on donations.

Today, after decades left living in limbo in these randomly placed no-man’s lands, around 47,000 people on the Bangladeshi side and some 14,000 on the Indian side have finally been given the right make a choice: stay where they have lived for generations with official citizenship of the country that will absorb them, or return to their country of origin.

None of the residents living in Bangladeshi enclaves within India asked to return to Bangladesh and as a result they will now all become Indian citizens. However, on the other side of the border in Bangladesh, whilst the vast majority of the Indian enclave dwellers decided to stay and become Bangladeshi citizens, 979 people requested to return to India. For these families, the enclave saga has yet to end.

Of those 979 individuals, a total of 406 come from Debiganj district. In 2011, a team of Indian officials visited every home in every enclave in Bangladesh and produced the first ever detailed census of all those living within the Indian enclaves. This report formed the basis of all subsequent decisions on the status of each person living in the enclaves.

ABOVE: (Left) An old lady inside her home, which has no running water or electricity, in Dayuti enclave. (Right) Dhonobala Rani, 70, gets emotional knowing that she has to leave her son (in the blue shirt) behind in Bangladesh, as she takes Indian citizenship. 

Several months after my visit to document the enclaves during the final days of their existence, those who had chosen to leave for India finally crossed the border, leaving their homes in Bangladesh forever. In India they were given land and began the process of integrating into Indian society. Those who chose to stay behind in Bangladesh also started to receive such basic rights as eligibility to vote and access to health care.

Let us hope that after decades of struggle on these isolated political islands, the lives of these ex-enclaves dwellers can begin to reach some level of normalcy. In the end, after so many years of uncertainty, the world’s strangest border region has now become a thing of the past.

ABOVE: A lady from Ponchoki Bhajini village, in the enclave of Dhoholakhagrabari. She has chosen to leave for India, to start a new life as an Indian citizen.

 

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA 

 

LUKE DUGGLEBY

@LukeDuggleby

Luke Duggleby is a British freelance documentarian and travel photographer. He currently lives in Bangkok and is represented by Redux Pictures. 

 

VIDEO: E-Waste Tsunami in Delhi

A film to accompany the E-Waste Tsunami project. This film explores the industrialized landscape of the urban poor in a developing world metropolis. The urban poor are the community and sector of society to which the waste-picker and e-waste worker belong. The journey begins at the Bhalswa Landfill and associated communities in northwestern Delhi and then moves through the rapidly expanding infrastructure of the city. It concludes with a passage through unregulated housing developments that form a large part of this 21st century metropolis.

E-WASTE TSUNAMI

E-WASTE TSUNAMI peers behind the virtual world conjured by our computers and mobile phones to the very real world of electronic trash.

The ecosystems of production and consumption create the ecosystem of the receiver. In the receiver ecosystem are the environment into which products and materials are disposed, and the urban poor who work in the informal labor sector, generally in unregulated conditions
and facilities. Increasing consumer affluence, population growth, and decreasing product prices exponentially accelerate the e-waste problem. This project documents what’s happening at the frontline in the world of the receiver in a developing economy.

The photographic documentary, and film, produced by StudioFYNN,  provide a glimpse into the lives of those who work with e-waste on a daily basis in Bhalswa and Mustafabad, Delhi, India. While alternatives to toxic labor practices exist, only a handful of socially conscious and technologically equipped facilities are committed tobest practices with e-waste end-of-lifecycle. Given this highly complex problem, in what generative ways can diverse fields (such as industrialdesign, psychology, or urban policy) begin to model a more sustainable future?

PHOTOGRAPHS BY SHAUN FYNN

Want to see more? Check out STUDIOFYNN's Delhi Journey, an accompanying film for the E-Waste Tsunami project. 

SHAUN FYNN

@studiofynn 

Shaun Fynn is an acclaimed designer with over 20 years experience in advising and creating for Fortune 500 companies. Since founding STUDIOFYNN in 1997, he has developed the practice globally, working in areas of design research, photo documentary and design education. E-Waste Tsunami — a project that peers behind our virtual worlds to capture the real world of electronic trash — was on exhibition in The Sheila C. Johnson Design Center's Arnold and Sheila Aronson Galleries in New York City at the beginning of 2016. 

INDIA: A Café Run by Acid Attack Survivors Attracts Visitors from around the World

The women of Sheroes' Hangout serve coffee and share their personal stories. 

Ritu Saini, Chanchal Kumari, Neetu Mahor, Gita Mahor, and Rupa at the café. (Photo: Courtesy Sheroes’ Hangout)

The Taj Mahal may be one of the world’s top architectural wonders, but just a half mile away, a new destination is gaining attention: Sheroes’ Hangout.

“I was exhilarated the first time a group of Indian tourists who visited the café told me how much they appreciate my courage,” says Rupa (who goes by one name), a 22-year-old survivor of acid violence who, along with four other women, runs the café Sheroes’ Hangout. “Since then, we have had regular customers who come here not only to enjoy a cup of joe but also to talk to us.” 

Visitors to Sheroes’ Hangout always leave with a sense of fulfillment. It’s not only because of the cutting-edge coffee and delicious snacks the café serves.

Opened in December 2014 in Agra, a city in the north Indian state of Uttar Pradesh, Sheroes’ Hangout started as a crowdfunding project by Stop Acid Attacks, a group committed to ending acts of violence against women. Its “pay as you wish” contributions go toward the rehabilitation of survivors of acid violence in India.

“Our visitors are mostly people from around the world who hear about us in the news,” says 20-year-old Chanchal Kumari, another survivor who helps operate the café. A man whose marriage proposal she refused attacked Kumari in 2012. “They come here to see how acid attack survivors like us are coping with our lives.”

(Photo: Courtesy Sheroes' Hangout)

Kumari, who is recovering from her fifth reconstructive surgery, works alongside Rupa, Ritu Saini, Gita Mahor, and Neetu Mahor, all of whom lived a secluded life in their homes for several years, dealing with the pain of a charred face and a scarred soul. Then they discovered "Stop Acid Attacks," a Facebook campaign that was started on International Women’s Day in 2013. Based in New Delhi, SAA works with acid attack survivors in India, assisting them with legal and medical issues and helping them deal with the trauma of the attack. Sheroes’ Hangout is one of its several initiatives.

Acid attacks are a gruesome reality in India. The National Crime Records Bureau, a government organization that recently began recording acid violence, estimates that more than 1,000 such crimes are committed around the country every year, though the majority of attacks go unreported because of the shame the girl and her family feel and the fear of being attacked again.

SAA has been collecting data through its volunteers across the country and has information on 430 survivors, 350 of whom were attacked in the last two years. It is in touch with, and has assisted, more than 70 of them. According to the data collected, about 70 percent of victims are women, more than 50 percent of whom are attacked by spurned lovers. One of the biggest reasons behind the high rate of acid attacks is the lack of laws against the free sale of acid in India—a liter can be purchased for just 50 cents.

SAA wanted to do something for Gita Mahor, 42, and her daughter Neetu, 26, who were attacked with acid 23 years ago by Mahor’s husband, Neetu’s father. Both were left with mutilated faces and limited vision. Neetu’s one-year-old sister was sleeping next to her during the attack and succumbed to the injuries the acid caused to her. With no one else to support them, mother and daughter were forced to continue living with their assailant. To relieve them from their everyday distress and further domestic violence, SAA found it important to provide them an avenue of earning a livelihood so they could gradually move away from their home and lead a happier life.
“Acid attack survivors’ lives become even more traumatic when they start facing rejection from society due to their disfigured faces. They need someone to hold their hand and restore their self-confidence,” says SAA founder Alok Dixit.

Today, Mahor and Neetu dress up every morning and go to the café to serve coffee and treats—and share their stories with customers.

One of the objectives of SAA at Sheroes’ Hangout was to provide skills training in the subject that each survivor was interested in learning. With SAA’s help, Mahor took a baking course at a hotel in Agra and will soon be serving cookies and cupcakes to customers. Neetu, who is almost blind, is taking singing lessons from an SAA volunteer. “I love to welcome the guests at the café cheerfully, so that they know we are coping well,” she says.

Saini, 19, played volleyball for India before suffering an acid attack by a male cousin in 2012 over a family property dispute, resulting in the loss of her left eye. She is unable to compete in the sport anymore, and she now handles accounts at the café. “My life changed ever since I joined SAA,” she says. “With the emotional support I received, I regained the confidence to go out with my face uncovered. Now I don’t care what people think of my disfigured face.”

Rupa—whose stepmother attacked her with acid when she was just 12—is a skilled tailor and an amateur apparel designer. The outfits she designs are exhibited and sold at the café. “Sheroes’ Hangout is not only giving us a chance to move our lives forward; it is also getting our stories out,” she says.

“True that,” says customer Shikha Singh, 20, a student of fashion design who finds herself in the café at least once a week. “I would never have known about the reality behind acid attack survivors had I not met these women. It is amazing the way they are working to fulfill their dreams despite the hurdles. I now prefer to spend on Sheroes’ Hangout rather than a McDonald’s or KFC. At least I’m sure the money will be used for a good cause.”

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON TAKEPART

 

PRITI SALIAN

@Priti_Salian

Priti is a Bangalore-based journalist whose work has appeared in The Christian Science Monitor, The Women's International Perspective, The National, Femina.in, Prevention, Discover India, and many other publications.