LICENCE TO DREAM

In a first-of-its-kind initiative, tribal women in Kerala secure driving licences, finding freedom along the way

- BY B. MANOJKUMAR

When Maheswari first showed up for her driving lessons, it wasn't the scooter that caught everyone's attention; it was her attire—a churidar suit. In her kudi (settlement), where tradition holds a tight grip, even small shifts in norms can stir big reactions.

“What will people say?” the others murmured.

For many women in her community, wearing a churidar instead of a sari was a quiet rebellion. “If learning to ride meant wearing what's comfortable, then so be it,” recalls Maheswari. Her determination gradually encouraged others. “Those who stay behind out of fear will always be pushed further back,” she says. “Yes, we are tribal women. And yes, society tries to keep us in our place. But nothing will change unless we step forward.”

At 36, Maheswari has seen her share of life’s harsher edges. An ASHA worker in Marayoor panchayat of Devikulam taluka in Kerala's Idukki district for the past five years, she has been the sole provider for her two children ever since her husband left them in 2015. She was six months pregnant with her second child when he walked out, leaving behind not just a broken family but deep uncertainty. Today, standing in front of her house in Cheruvad settlement, surrounded by the earthy scent of sandalwood, Maheswari has zero regrets. “There was no time to grieve,” she says. “I had two lives depending on me. So, I carried on.”

For as long as she can remember, Maheswari had dreamt of riding a scooter. Growing up, she would often roll parked two-wheelers just to hold the handlebars, imagining the freedom that came with it. But reality kept that dream distant.