Hedy Lamarr

#46/100 in #100extraordinarywomen

Hedy Lamarr was a beautiful Austrian-American actress during MGM's "Golden Age" who also left her mark on technology. She helped develop an early technique for spread spectrum communication for the US. Although the US Navy did not adopt the technology until the 1960s, the principles of their work are now incorporated into modern Wi-Fi, CDMA, and Bluetooth technology, and this work led to their induction into the National Inventors Hall of Fame in 2014.

Hedy was born Hedwig Eva Maria Kiesler in 1914 in Vienna, Austria-Hungary, the only child of Gertrud and Emil Kiesler. Her father was born to a Jewish family in Lemberg (now Lviv in Ukraine) and was a successful bank director. Her mother was a pianist and Budapest native who came from an upper-class Jewish family; she had converted from Judaism to Catholicism and was described as a "practicing Christian", who raised her daughter as a Christian.

In the late 1920s, when Hedy still in her teens, she was discovered as an actress and brought to Berlin by producer Max Reinhardt. Following her training in the theater, she returned to Vienna, where she began to work in the film industry, first as a script girl, and soon as an actress. In early 1933, at age 18, she starred in Gustav Machatý's film, Ecstasy (Ekstase in German, Extase in Czech), which was filmed in Prague, Czechoslovakia. Hedy’s role was that of a neglected young wife married to an indifferent older man. The film became notorious for showing Hedy's face in the throes of orgasm as well as close-up and brief nude scenes in which she is seen swimming and running through the woods.

On 10 August 1933, Hedy married Friedrich Mandl, an Austrian military arms merchant and munitions manufacturer who was reputedly the third-richest man in Austria. She was 18 years old and Mandl was 33. In her autobiography Ecstasy and Me, Hedy described Mandl as an extremely controlling husband who strongly objected to her simulated orgasm scene in Ecstasy, and prevented her from pursuing her acting career. Hedy claimed she was kept a virtual prisoner in their castle home, Schloss Schwarzenau. Mandl had close social and business ties to the fascist government of Italy, selling munitions to Mussolini; and, although his father was Jewish, he had ties to the Nazi government of Germany as well. Hedy wrote that Mussolini and Hitler attended lavish parties at the Mandl home. She accompanied Mandl to business meetings, where he conferred with scientists and other professionals involved in military technology. These conferences were her introduction to the field of applied science and the bedrock that nurtured her latent talent in science. Hedy's marriage to Mandl eventually became unbearable, and she decided to separate herself from both him and her country. In her autobiography, she wrote that she disguised herself as her maid and fled to Paris; but by other accounts, she persuaded Mandl to let her wear all of her jewelry for a dinner party, then disappeared afterward.

After arriving in Paris in 1937, she met Louis B. Mayer, who was scouting for talent in Europe. Mayer persuaded her to change her name to Hedy Lamarr (she had been known as "the Ecstasy lady"), choosing the surname in homage to the beautiful silent film star, Barbara La Marr. He brought her to Hollywood in 1938, and began promoting her as the "world's most beautiful woman". She made her American film debut in Algiers (1938), opposite Charles Boyer. The film created a "national sensation," says Shearer. She was billed as an unknown but well-publicized Austrian actress, which created anticipation in audiences. Mayer hoped she would become another Greta Garbo or Marlene Dietrich. According to one viewer, when her face first appeared on the screen, "everyone gasped...Lamarr's beauty literally took one's breath away." In future Hollywood films, she was invariably typecast as the archetypal, glamorous seductress of exotic origin. Hedy played opposite the era's most popular leading men. Her many films included Boom Town (1940) with Clark Gable and Spencer Tracy, Comrade X with Gable, White Cargo (1942), Tortilla Flat (1942) with Tracy and John Garfield, H. M. Pulham, Esq. (1941) with Robert Young, and Dishonored Lady (1947). In 1941, she was cast alongside Lana Turner and Judy Garland in Ziegfeld Girl.

Hedy made 18 films from 1940 to 1949, and also had two children during that time (in 1945 and 1947). After leaving MGM in 1945, she enjoyed her biggest success as Delilah in Cecil B. DeMille's Samson and Delilah, the highest-grossing film of 1949, with Victor Mature as the Biblical strongman. However, following a comedic role opposite Bob Hope in My Favorite Spy (1951), her career went into decline. She appeared only sporadically in films after 1950, one of her last roles being that of Joan of Arc in Irwin Allen's critically panned epic, The Story of Mankind (1957). White Cargo, one of her biggest hits at MGM, contains arguably her most memorable film quote, delivered with provocative invitation: "I am Tondelayo. I make tiffin for you?" This line typifies many of Lamarr's roles, which emphasized her beauty and sexuality, while giving her relatively few lines. Her view on glamour was, "Any girl can be glamorous, all you have to do is stand still and look stupid." The lack of acting challenges bored her and she reportedly took up inventing to relieve her boredom.

Hedy's earliest inventions included an improved traffic stoplight and a tablet that would dissolve in water to create a carbonated drink. The beverage was unsuccessful; Hedy herself said it tasted like Alka-Seltzer. In 1942 though, during the heyday of her career, Hedy finally earned recognition in a field quite different from entertainment. With the ongoing World War, Hedy was inspired to contribute to the war effort, designing a jam-proof radio guidance system for torpedoes. With the help of composer George Antheil, they drafted designs for a new frequency-hopping, spread-spectrum technology that they later patented. Lamarr and Antheil realized that radio-controlled torpedoes, which could be important in the naval war, could easily be jammed, thereby causing the torpedo to go off course. With the knowledge she had gained about torpedoes from her first husband, and using a method similar to the way piano rolls work, they designed a frequency-hopping system that would continually change the radio signals sent to the torpedo.

As is the case with many of the famous women inventors, Hedy Lamarr received very little recognition of her innovative talent at the time, but recently she has been showered with praise for her groundbreaking invention. Although their invention was granted a patent on 11 August 1942 (filed using her married name Hedy Kiesler Markey); yet, it was technologically difficult to implement, and at that time the U.S. Navy was not receptive to considering inventions coming from outside the military. Only in 1962 (at the time of the Cuban missile crisis) did an updated version of their design appear on Navy ships. The design is one of the important elements behind today's spread-spectrum communication technology, such as modern CDMA, Wi-Fi networks, and Bluetooth technology. Years later, in 1997, they received the Electronic Frontier Foundation Pioneer Award and the Bulbie Gnass Spirit of Achievement Bronze Award, given to individuals whose creative lifetime achievements in the arts, sciences, business, or invention fields have significantly contributed to society. Hedy was the first female ever to win this award. She was featured on the Science Channel and the Discovery Channel. In 2014, Hedy and Antheil were posthumously inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame.

Hedy Lamarr had wanted to join the National Inventors Council, but was reportedly told by NIC member Charles F. Kettering and others that she could better help the war effort by using her celebrity status to sell War Bonds. She participated in a war bond selling campaign with a sailor named Eddie Rhodes. Rhodes would be in the crowd at each of her appearance, and she would call him up on stage. She would briefly flirt with him before asking the audience if she should give him a kiss. The crowd would of course say yes, to which Hedy would reply that she would if enough people bought war bonds. After enough bonds were purchased, she would give Rhodes his kiss, and he would head back into the audience. Then they would head off to the next war bond rally.

Hedy Lamarr was married six times. She adopted a son, James, in 1939 during her second marriage Gene Markey. She went on to have two biological children, Denise (b. 1945) and Anthony (b. 1947), with her third husband, actor John Loder, who also adopted James. Following her sixth and final divorce in 1965, Hedy remained single for the last 35 years of her life. Hedy became a naturalized citizen of the United States at age 38 on 10 April 1953. She was arrested twice for shoplifting, once in 1966 and once in 1991, but neither arrest resulted in a conviction. Her autobiography, Ecstasy and Me, was published in 1966. However, she said on TV that it was not actually written by her, implying that much of it was fictional. According to the book, she slipped into a brothel and hid in an empty room while fleeing her estranged husband, Fritz Mandl. While her husband searched the brothel, a man entered the room and she had sex with him so she could remain unrecognized. She escaped by hiring a maid who resembled her; she drugged the maid and used her uniform as a disguise to escape. Hedy later sued the publisher, saying that many of the anecdotes in the book, which was described by a judge as "filthy, nauseating, and revolting," were fabricated by its ghost writer, Leo Guild. She was also sued in Federal Court by Gene Ringgold, who asserted the actress's autobiography contained material from an article about her life which he wrote in 1965 for a magazine called Screen Facts. The publication of her autobiography took place about a year after the accusations of shoplifting and a year after Andy Warhol's short film Hedy (1966). The shoplifting charges coincided with a failed attempt to return to the screen in Picture Mommy Dead (1966). The role was ultimately filled by Zsa Zsa Gabor.

The 1970s was a decade of increasing seclusion for Hedy. She was offered several scripts, television commercials, and stage projects, but none piqued her interest. In 1974, she filed a $10-million lawsuit against Warner Bros., claiming that the running parody of her name ("Hedley Lamarr") in the Mel Brooks' comedy Blazing Saddles infringed her right to privacy. Brooks said he was flattered; the studio settled out of court for an undisclosed nominal sum and an apology to Lamarr for “almost using her name". Brooks said that Hedy Lamarr "never got the joke". With failing eyesight, she retreated from public life and settled in Florida in 1981. In her later years, Hedy lived a reclusive life in Casselberry, a community just north of Orlando, Florida, where she died on January 19, 2000, at the age of 86.

For several years beginning in 1997, the boxes of CorelDRAW’s software suites were graced by a large Corel-drawn image of Hedy Lamarr. The picture won CorelDRAW’s yearly software suite cover design contest in 1996. Hedy sued Corel for using the image without her permission. Corel countered that she did not own rights to the image. The parties reached an undisclosed settlement in 1998. For her contribution to the motion picture industry, Hedy Lamarr has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 6247 Hollywood Blvd adjacent to Vine St where the Walk is centered.

In her later years, Hedy turned to plastic surgery to preserve the looks she was terrified of losing. She had to endure disastrous results. "She had her breasts enlarged, her cheeks raised, her lips made bigger, and much, much more" said her son, Anthony. "She had plastic surgery thinking it could revive her looks and her career, but it backfired and distorted her beauty". Anthony Loder also claimed that Hedy was addicted to pills. She also became estranged from her adopted son, James Lamarr Loder, when he was 12 years old. Their relationship ended abruptly and he moved in with another family. They did not speak again for almost 50 years. She left James Loder out of her will and he sued for control of the US$3.3 million estate left by Lamarr in 2000.

In the last decades of her life, the telephone became her only means of communication with the outside world, even with her children and close friends. She often talked up to six or seven hours a day on the phone, but she hardly spent any time with anyone in person in her final years. A documentary, Calling Hedy Lamarr, was released in 2004. Lamarr's children, Anthony Loder and Denise Loder-DeLuca, were featured in the documentary. An off-Broadway play, Frequency Hopping, features the lives of Lamarr and Antheil. The play was written and staged by Elyse Singer in 2008, and the script won a prize for best new play about science and technology from Stage. The 2010 New York Public Library exhibit, Thirty Years of Photography at the New York Public Library included a photo of a topless Lamarr (c. 1930) by Austrian-born American photographer Trude Fleischmann. The story of Lamarr's frequency-hopping spread-spectrum invention was explored in an episode of the Science Channel show Dark Matters: Twisted But True, a series which explores the darker side of scientific discovery and experimentation, which premiered on 7 September 2011. Her work in improving wireless security was part of the premiere episode of the Discovery Channel show How We Invented the World. On 20 May 2010, Hedy Lamarr was chosen from 150 IT people to be featured in a short film launched by the British Computer Society (BCS).

Proving she was much more than just another pretty face, Hedy Lamarr shattered stereotypes and earned a place among the 20th century's most important women inventors. She truly was a visionary whose technological acumen was far ahead of its time. 

Source: Wikipedia and Google search.

R. Umadevi Nagraj

#45/100 in #100extraordinarywomen

Revanna Umadevi Nagraj embarked on a journey back in 1995 in the billiards room of Karnataka Government Secretariat (KGS) Club; a journey of effort, persistence and unbridled glory. As she set out to realise her dream, life began for her at 47.

Umadevi, born on 11 February 1965, had a very mundane existence as after the completion of her SSLC and training in typewriting, she started working as a typist for the horticulture department in 1989 at Lalbagh in Bangalore. Her passion for the game was a divine discovery as she chose to explore table tennis initially which was actively played by government staffers. Waiting endlessly amidst a bunch of people for her turn to play, the spark within her could not be suppressed as she wandered off to the nearby billiards table. Its then secretary Krishna Kumar took her to the billiards room and thrust a cue in her hands. There was no looking back since then. She started to play the game out of curiosity but got hooked to it as she played more and soon realized that she was destined to play billiards.

She started practicing after office hours, and her dedication and hard work got her to the number three position on the state snooker ranking. This was a great boost to her morale and gave wings to her already flying dreams. The state ranking got her membership of the Karnataka State Billiards Association (KSBA). Understanding her passion for the game, the horticulture department transferred Umadevi to Cubbon Park, where she could further her sports interests. Being a shy girl, she could not communicate properly with people which led her to becoming the butt of many jokes, but she didn’t let this come in her way and decided to gain everyone’s respect through a good game. She was always different as she chose to initiate something new by extending her limitations, thereby starting on an outstanding journey.

Arjuna awardee cueist Aravind Savur became her mentor at the KGS Club. Later she was trained by Jairaj, former coach of the national billiards team. It was the sheer result of her firm resolution and hard work that she won her first national championship in Ahmedabad (2002). 

After her first national championship, she started getting a lot of opportunities to play abroad, but she could not afford it due to financial restrictions. She would go and practice the game everyday, come back and immerse herself in daily household chores with her mind elsewhere. When her husband noticed this, he did a few financial “adjustments” and arranged for some money for her trip. “I went only because he urged me to,” she says. Then there was no looking back as billiards became synonymous to living, for her. She participated in the World championships in China (2003), Netherlands (2004) and Syria (2011). She won the women’s billiards and snooker world championship at Cambridge in the UK in 2012, and reached the pinnacle of the game. She also received Arjuna award in 2009 for her contribution to Billiards. The humble senior typist working with the state horticulture department made it to the top, beating seven competitors from various countries.

“If you want to see the dawn, make the sun rise, if there is no sun, make one.” Umadevi made her own sun and created the dawn of her life by defying the age old conventions which governed the life of every sportsperson. The senior most player never let the age factor hinder her progressive journey, instead her sheer exuberance and passion translated into fantastic games which made her the queen of billiards. From an introvert, reserved senior typist to the world champion, the metamorphosis has been incredible.

“There are many things that one learns from a sport. Cue sport has primarily helped me grow as an individual. I was somebody who did my routines, and just stuck to myself. Today, the game has taken me places. I am much more confident and social”, she says. Today, women are getting recognition in every field of life including their corporate jobs, dance, music, cinema, etc. Choosing sports as a career just requires extra effort and dedication. Umadevi sets an example for many such women who want to pursue their dreams of becoming a sports star but are hesitant due to their family responsibilities and age. A lesson we have learnt from Umadevi is that it’s never too late to chase your dreams. R. Umadevi is a lustrous example of a story driven by passion which was created by the intensity of her own burning desires, giving way to a magnificent reality. The Arjuna awardee is an embodiment of a true leader as her action has inspired budding sportspersons out there to believe in them and realise their dream. 

Source: Google search.

Jackie Mitchell

#44/100 in #100extraordinarywomen

Some 85 years before modern pro ball started welcoming women to its ranks, a young southpaw from Memphis was knocking on the glass ceiling. Virne Beatrice "Jackie" Mitchell Gilbert was one of the first female pitchers in professional baseball history. Pitching for the Chattanooga Lookouts Class AA minor league baseball team in an exhibition game against the New York Yankees, she struck out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig in succession and then was fired for it.

Jackie was born on August 29, 1913 in Chattanooga, Tennessee, to Virne Wall Mitchell and Dr. Joseph Mitchell. When she learned how to walk, her father took her to the baseball diamond and taught her the basics of the game. Her next door neighbor, Dazzy Vance, taught her to pitch and showed her his "drop ball", a type of breaking ball. Vance was a major league pitcher and would eventually be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. At the age of 16, Jackie began playing for the Engelettes, a women's team in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and went on to attend a baseball training camp in Atlanta, Georgia. In doing so she attracted the attention of Joe Engel, the so-called “Barnum of Baseball,” the president and owner of the Chattanooga Lookouts, who was known for using publicity stunts as a way to draw crowds during the Great Depression. Seeing her as an opportunity to draw attention to the Lookouts, he signed 17-year-old Jackie to the team on March 25, 1931. She appeared in her first professional game on April 2, 1931 becoming only the second woman to play organized baseball behind Lizzie Arlington who pitched for the Reading Coal Heavers against the Allentown Peanuts in a Minor league game in 1898. At that time, little did Engel know Ms. Mitchell would prove much more than a sideshow act.

On April 2, the major league New York Yankees took a detour on their way home from spring training to play a scrimmage against the minor league Lookouts. Press coverage of the young woman recently signed to Engel’s club was snide: “She swings a mean lipstick,” wrote one paper. “The curves won’t be all on the ball when pretty Jackie Mitchell takes the mound,” another outlet lamely quipped. Critics were shut up in short order, though: The Lookouts’ starting pitcher was yanked after facing just two batters, which brought Mitchell in to face the meat of the Bronx Bombers’ order. First up? Babe Ruth.

Tony Horwitz of the Smithsonian recounts the first at-bat: “Ruth let the first pitch pass for a ball. At Mitchell’s second offering, Ruth ‘swung and missed the ball by a foot.’ He missed the next one, too, and asked the umpire to inspect the ball. Then, with the count 1–2, Ruth watched as Mitchell’s pitch caught the outside corner for a called strike three. Flinging his bat down in disgust, he retreated to the dugout.” As Babe Ruth glared and verbally abused the umpire before being led away by his teammates to sit to wait for another batting turn, the crowd roared for Jackie. Next up was Lou Gehrig, another all-time great. Mitchell fanned him on three straight pitches. Though the Yankees would go on to thrash the Lookouts 14–4, Mitchell had made her point. One journalist wrote the next day, “The prospect grows gloomier for misogynists.” Jackie Mitchell became famous for striking out two of the greatest baseball players in history.

Predictably, the national male psyche in 1931 was wholly unprepared for a successful female ballplayer. Ruth, upset by the event, told reporters that “Women will never make good in baseball” because they “are too delicate. It would kill them to play every day.” The Sultan of Swat’s words found a home in the ear of baseball commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis, who voided Jackie Mitchell’s contract on the dubious assertion that the sport was too physically tough for women. She would join several other unofficial pro leagues before retiring and joining the family business. 

Jackie continued to play professionally, barnstorming with the House of David, a men's team famous for their very long hair and long beards. While travelling with the House of David team, she would sometimes wear a fake beard for publicity. She retired in 1937 at the age of 23 after becoming furious since her story about playing baseball was being used something of a side show – once being asked to pitch while riding a donkey. She refused to come out of retirement when the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League formed in 1943. Major League Baseball would formally ban the signing of women to contracts on June 21, 1952. The ban lasted 40 years until 1992 when Carey Schueler was drafted by the Chicago White Sox for the 1993 season. Meanwhile, in 1982, Jackie was invited to throw out the ceremonial first pitch for the Chattanooga Lookouts on their season opening day. 

Jackie Mitchell died in Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia, on January 7, 1987, and was buried in Forest Hills Cemetery in Chattanooga. Though her career lacked longevity, it certainly burned bright for a brief moment. After all, she struck out the Great Bambino and the Iron Horse. How many can say that? 

Source: Google search and Wikipedia.

Laxmi

#43/100 in #100extraordinarywomen

Laxmi, who chooses to go only by her first name, is an Indian campaigner with Stop Acid Attacks and a TV host. She is an acid attack survivor and speaks for the rights of acid attack victims. She was attacked in 2005 at age 15, by a 32-year-old man whose advances she had rejected. She is also an active advocate against acid attacks and has taken her fight forward by gathering 27,000 signatures for a petition to curb acid sales, and taking that cause to the Indian Supreme Court. Her petition led the Supreme Court to order the central and state governments to regulate the sale of acid, and the Parliament to make prosecutions of acid attacks easier to pursue. She is currently the director of Chhanv Foundation, a NGO dedicated to help the survivors of acid attacks in India. 

Her story is that of amazing grit and indomitable will. Laxmi was born in 1990 in New Delhi in a middle-class family. Her face and other body parts were disfigured in the said acid attack. A minor then, Laxmi was attacked with acid by three persons near Tughlaq road in New Delhi as she had refused to marry one of them. She spotted 32-year-old Naeem Khan, one of her friend’s brothers, as she was shopping in Khan Market, South Delhi, but suddenly, the woman he was with pushed me to the ground and a cold liquid splashed across Laxmi's face, causing an unimaginable burning sensation. Laxmi rolled around on the dirty city street in a desperate bid to stop the pain until eventually a local taxi driver came forward to help, throwing water over her face. The taxi driver rushed Laxmi to nearby Safdarjang Hospital, shouting “acid attack” encouraging people to move out of the way. It was only then that Laxmi realised what had happened. She said: “I felt as if someone had set my whole body on fire. The skin was just coming off, it was like dripping, from my hands and from my face.” She has undergone nine major surgeries to try and reduce the burns to her skin since the horrific attack in a busy market in 2005 - and the last left her on a ventilator for four days.

Now, Laxmi feels an overwhelming strength to change the acid attacks that continue to happen in India in a bid to help her daughter grow up in a safer country. She later filed a PIL seeking framing of a new law, or amendment to the existing criminal laws like IPC, Indian Evidence Act and CrPC for dealing with the offence, besides asking for compensation. She had also pleaded for a total ban on sale of acid, citing increasing number of incidents of such attacks on women across the country. During a hearing in April, the Centre had assured the Supreme Court of India that it will work with the state governments to formulate a plan before the next hearing. However, when the Centre failed to produce a plan, the Supreme Court warned that it will intervene and pass orders if the government failed to frame a policy to curb the sale of acid in order to prevent chemical attacks. “Seriousness is not seen on the part of government in handling the issue,” the bench headed by Justice RM Lodha had said. The court also directed the Centre to convene a meeting of Chief Secretaries of all states and Union Territories to hold discussion for enacting a law to regulate the sale of acids and a policy for treatment, compensation and care and rehabilitation of such victims.

Meanwhile, in 2013, the Supreme Court ruled in favour of Laxmi and Rupa’s plea, thereby creating a fresh set of restrictions on the sale of acid. Under the new regulations, acid could not be sold to any individual below the age of 18 years. One is also required to furnish a photo identity card before buying acid. Laxmi claims that not much has changed on the ground, despite all the regulations. “Acid is freely available in shops. Our own volunteers have gone and purchased acid easily. In fact, I have myself purchased acid,” she said. “We have launched a new initiative called ‘Shoot Acid’. By means of the Right to Information Act, we are trying to acquire data concerning the sale of acid in every district. We intend to present the information collected through this initiative before the Supreme Court to apprise them of the situation on the ground.”

On personal front, she had once given up on finding a partner thanks to the stares and comments she received in public left her too ashamed to leave the home, but went on to find love through her campaigning work to stop other women suffering the same fate. Laxmi began working with the charity Stop Acid Attacks and through it met founder Alok Dixit, with whom she found love. Although the attack has left its mental scars, she said she is no longer ashamed of the physical scars. She said: “After the attack, I never thought I would ever find a soulmate. I had lost hope. But in Alok, I couldn't have found anyone better. He understood the kind of pain I was in. He understood what I had been going through. He wasn’t like other men my age – he was completely committed to the campaign and making a change in life, and I fell for that. I never told him, though. But then three months after we first met, while we were working one afternoon, Alok admitted he had feelings for me. He said he’d fallen for my courage and spirit.” The couple, however, are challenging society norms by not getting married. “We have decided to live together until we die. But we are challenging the society by not getting married,” Laxmi said. Alok added: “We are not going to follow the norms that the society approves of. We will prove that our love does not need a name. Our love is about understanding and support.” Laxmi and Alok continue to work together helping and supporting many survivors of acid attacks in India, and last year they launched the Sheroes Hangout, which is a café, in Agra, run by victims of acid attacks. 

Laxmi and Alok are now proud parents of a baby girl whom they have named Pihu. Although thrilled, she revealed that she was terrified of how her child would react to her injuries. As her daughter Pihu celebrates her first birthday, Laxmi said: “I was overjoyed but I started to worry – how would my child react to my face? Would they be scared of me, or find it difficult to bond with me? I tried to enjoy my pregnancy but these thoughts would fill my head and I worried how I would cope once I gave birth.” But when Pihu arrived the following April, Laxmi's fears became a distant memory. “The moment we locked eyes, I loved her more than anything in the world. Sometimes I struggle to believe something so beautiful is a part of me – it’s a happiness I never thought I’d feel,” she said. “I never imagined that I would become a mother. It’s nature’s gift. It has brought inexplicable happiness. I see her and think how can something so beautiful be my daughter? It’s a happiness I never thought I’d feel.” Now, Laxmi feels an overwhelming strength to change the acid attacks that continue to happen in India in a bid to help her daughter grow up in a safer country. She added: “I’ve already decided that, when the time is right, I will tell Pihu about what happened to me. It's not a nice story and I worry about that day. But I will not tell her my story until she asks. Only when she asks me why I look the way I do, will I tell her my real life story. I don’t want her to hear about it from anyone else. It’s my story and I will have to explain to her what happened to me. I just hope my charity work will help protect my daughter from any type of attack in the future. She will see survivors throughout her life on every level, daily. And she will witness the struggles her own parents go through to build a better future but we will not give up, we will keep fighting for change a better life.”

In March 2014, Laxmi was invited to the International Woman of Courage Celebration in Washington DC by Michelle Obama. She was one of 10 women honoured for courageous and selfless efforts advocating for peace, justice, human rights and women’s equality – often in the face of great personal risk. And on her return home, she was offered her own weekly talk show (called Udaan) for acid-attack survivors on Indian TV channel News Express. Then, in January she was named as the star of an India designer's clothing campaign called the 'Face of Courage' and said she wants to show other women who have been attacked to have courage. She was also chosen as the NDTV Indian of the Year (LIC Unsung Hero of the Year) for the year 2013. 

Source: Google search and Wikipedia.

Hypatia of Alexandria

#42/100 of #100extraordinarywomen

Hypatia of Alexandria is not like my usual entry to this blog. But I must confess that Hypatia intrigued me much more than any woman I have already shared about. For one, we are not talking about the 19th or the 20th century here; we are talking about the 4th century. It is amazing that while we women are struggling to make a mark for ourselves in the 20th century, Hypatia stood out among the men and was well respected and acknowledged in 4th century. What is sad though is that, not many could digest that and she suffered for no fault of hers. Still, even to this day, she is revered as "symbol of virtue" even by the Christians who in a way were responsible for her Death. The contemporary Christian historian Socrates of Constantinople described her in his Ecclesiastical History: "There was a woman at Alexandria named Hypatia, daughter of the philosopher Theon, who made such attainments in literature and science, as to far surpass all the philosophers of her own time. Having succeeded to the school of Plato and Plotinus, she explained the principles of philosophy to her auditors, many of whom came from a distance to receive her instructions. On account of the self-possession and ease of manner which she had acquired in consequence of the cultivation of her mind, she not infrequently appeared in public in the presence of the magistrates. Neither did she feel abashed in going to an assembly of men. For all men on account of her extraordinary dignity and virtue admired her the more."

Hypatia of Alexandria was a Greek mathematician, astronomer, and philosopher in Egypt, then a part of the Byzantine Empire. She was the head of the Neoplatonic school at Alexandria, where she taught philosophy and astronomy. This is her story.

One day on the streets of Alexandria, Egypt, in the year 415 or 416, a mob of Christian zealots led by Peter the Lector accosted a woman’s carriage and dragged her from it and into a church, where they stripped her and beat her to death with roofing tiles. They then tore her body apart and burned it. Who was this woman and what was her crime? Hypatia was one of the last great thinkers of ancient Alexandria and one of the first women to study and teach mathematics, astronomy and philosophy. Though she is remembered more for her violent death, her dramatic life is a fascinating lens through which we may view the plight of science in an era of religious and sectarian conflict.

To understand Hypatia, one must first understand Alexandria, the setting, the city, which first bolstered her talent and then destroyed it. Founded by Alexander the Great in 331 B.C., the city of Alexandria quickly grew into a center of culture and learning for the ancient world. At its heart was the museum, a type of university, whose collection of more than a half-million scrolls was housed in the library of Alexandria. Alexandria underwent a slow decline beginning in 48 B.C., when Julius Caesar conquered the city for Rome and accidentally burned down the library. (It was then rebuilt.) By 364, when the Roman Empire split and Alexandria became part of the eastern half, the city was beset by fighting among Christians, Jews and pagans. Further civil wars destroyed much of the library's contents. The last remnants likely disappeared, along with the museum, in 391, when the archbishop Theophilus acted on orders from the Roman emperor to destroy all pagan temples. Theophilus tore down the temple of Serapis, which may have housed the last scrolls, and built a church on the site.

The last known member of the museum was the mathematician and astronomer Theon — Hypatia's father. Some of Theon's writing has survived. His commentary (a copy of a classical work that incorporates explanatory notes) on Euclid's Elements was the only known version of that cardinal work on geometry until the 19th century. But little is known about his and Hypatia's family life. Even Hypatia's date of birth is contested — scholars long held that she was born in 370 but modern historians believe 350 to be more likely. The identity of her mother is a complete mystery, and Hypatia may have had a brother, Epiphanius, though he may have been only Theon's favorite pupil. Theon taught mathematics and astronomy to his daughter, who studied in Athens and who later collaborated on some of his commentaries. It is thought that Book III of Theon's version of Ptolemy's Almagest — the treatise that established the Earth-centric model for the universe that wouldn't be overturned until the time of Copernicus and Galileo — was actually the work of Hypatia.

She was a mathematician and astronomer in her own right, writing commentaries of her own and teaching a succession of students from her home. Around 400, she became head of what is now known as the Neoplatonist School in Alexandria, where she imparted the knowledge of Plato and Aristotle to students, including pagans, Christians, and foreigners. Letters from one of these students, Synesius, indicate that these lessons included how to design an astrolabe, a kind of portable astronomical calculator that would be used until the 19th century. Beyond her father's areas of expertise, Hypatia established herself as a philosopher in the Neoplatonic school, a belief system in which everything emanates from the One. (Her student Synesius would become a bishop in the Christian church and incorporate Neoplatonic principles into the doctrine of the Trinity.) Her public lectures were popular and drew crowds. 

No written work widely recognized by scholars as Hypatia's own has survived to the present time. Many of the works commonly attributed to her are believed to have been collaborative works with her father, Theon Alexandricus. This kind of authorial uncertainty is typical for female philosophers in antiquity. A partial list of Hypatia's works as mentioned by other antique and medieval authors or as posited by modern authors:

• A commentary on the 13-volume Arithmetica by Diophantus.
• A commentary on the Conics of Apollonius of Perga.
• Edited the existing version of Ptolemy's Almagest. "Until recently scholars thought that Hypatia revised Theon's commentary on Almagest. The view was based on the title of the commentary on the third book of Almagest, which read: "Commentary by Theon of Alexandria on Book III of Ptolemy's Almagest, edition revised by my daughter Hypatia, the philosopher." Cameron, who analyzed Theon's titles for other books of Almagest and for other scholarly texts of late antiquity, concludes that Hypatia corrected not her father's commentary but the text of Almagest itself. Thus, the extant text of Almagest could have been prepared, at least partly, by Hypatia".
• Edited her father's commentary on Euclid's Elements.
• She wrote a text "The Astronomical Canon". (Either a new edition of Ptolemy's Handy Tables or commentary on the aforementioned Almagest.)

Her contributions to technology are reputed to include the invention of the hydrometer, used to determine the relative density (or specific gravity) of liquids. However, the hydrometer was invented before Hypatia, and already known in her time. Some say that this is a textual misinterpretation of the original Greek, which mentions a hydroscopium - a clock that works with water and gears, similar to the Antikythera mechanism.

Her student Synesius, bishop of Cyrene, wrote a letter describing his construction of an astrolabe. Earlier astrolabes predate that of Synesius by at least a century, and Hypatia's father had gained fame for his treatise on the subject. However, Synesius claimed that his was an improved model. Synesius also sent Hypatia a letter describing a hydrometer, and requesting her to have one constructed for him.

"Donning [the robe of a scholar], the lady made appearances around the center of the city, expounding in public to those willing to listen on Plato or Aristotle," the philosopher Damascius wrote after her death. Although contemporary fifth-century sources identify Hypatia of Alexandria as a practitioner and teacher of the philosophy of Plato and Plotinus, two hundred years later, the seventh-century Egyptian Coptic bishop John of Nikiû identified her as a Hellenistic pagan and that "she was devoted at all times to magic, astrolabes and instruments of music, and she beguiled many people through her Satanic wiles". However, not all Christians were as hostile towards her and some Christians even used Hypatia as symbolic of Virtue.

Source: Google search and Wikipedia.

Rosalind Franklin

#41/100 in #100extraordinarywomen

British chemist Rosalind Franklin is best known for her role in the discovery of the structure of DNA, and for her pioneering use of X-ray diffraction. She earned a Ph.D. in physical chemistry from Cambridge University and learned crystallography and X-ray diffraction, techniques that she applied to DNA fibers. One of her photographs provided key insights into DNA structure. Other scientists used it as evidence to support their DNA model and took credit for the discovery. 

Rosalind Elsie Franklin was born to Ellis Arthur Franklin, a politically liberal London merchant banker, and Muriel Frances Waley into an affluent and influential Jewish family on July 25, 1920, in Notting Hill, London, England. Rosalind was the elder daughter and the second child in the family of five children. She displayed exceptional intelligence from early childhood, knowing from the age of 15 that she wanted to be a scientist. She received her education at several schools, including North London Collegiate School, where she excelled in science, among other things. Rosalind enrolled at Newnham College, Cambridge, in 1938 and studied chemistry. In 1941, she was awarded Second Class Honors in her finals, which, at that time, was accepted as a bachelor's degree in the qualifications for employment. She went on to work as an assistant research officer at the British Coal Utilisation Research Association, where she studied the porosity of coal—work that was the basis of her 1945 Ph.D. thesis "The physical chemistry of solid organic colloids with special reference to coal."

In the fall of 1946, Rosalind was appointed at the Laboratoire Central des Services Chimiques de l'Etat in Paris, where she worked with crystallographer Jacques Mering. He taught her X-ray diffraction, which would play an important role in her research that led to the discovery of "the secret of life"—the structure of DNA. In addition, she pioneered the use of X-rays to create images of crystalized solids in analyzing complex, unorganized matter, not just single crystals.

In January 1951, Rosalind began working as a research associate at the King's College London in the biophysics unit, where director John Randall used her expertise and X-ray diffraction techniques (mostly of proteins and lipids in solution) on DNA fibers. Studying DNA structure with X-ray diffraction, Rosalind and her student Raymond Gosling made an amazing discovery: They took pictures of DNA and discovered that there were two forms of it, a dry "A" form and a wet "B" form. One of their X-ray diffraction pictures of the "B" form of DNA, known as Photograph 51, became famous as critical evidence in identifying the structure of DNA. The photo was acquired through 100 hours of X-ray exposure from a machine Rosalind herself had refined.

John Desmond Bernal, one of the United Kingdom’s most well-known and controversial scientists and a pioneer in X-ray crystallography, spoke highly of Rosalind around the time of her death in 1958. "As a scientist Miss Franklin was distinguished by extreme clarity and perfection in everything she undertook," he said. "Her photographs were among the most beautiful X-ray photographs of any substance ever taken. Their excellence was the fruit of extreme care in preparation and mounting of the specimens as well as in the taking of the photographs."

Despite her cautious and diligent work ethic, Rosalind had a personality conflict with colleague Maurice Wilkins, one that would end up costing her greatly. In January 1953, Wilkins changed the course of DNA history by disclosing without Rosalind's permission or knowledge her Photo 51 to competing scientist James Watson, who was working on his own DNA model with Francis Crick at Cambridge. Upon seeing the photograph, Watson said, "My jaw fell open and my pulse began to race," according to author Brenda Maddox, who in 2002 wrote a book about Rosalind titled Rosalind Franklin: The Dark Lady of DNA.

The two scientists did in fact use what they saw in Photo 51 as the basis for their famous model of DNA, which they published on March 7, 1953, and for which they received a Nobel Prize in 1962. Crick and Watson were also able to take most of the credit for the finding: When publishing their model in Nature magazine in April 1953, they included a footnote acknowledging that they were "stimulated by a general knowledge" of Rosalind's and Wilkins' unpublished contribution, when in fact, much of their work was rooted in Rosalind's photo and findings. Randall and the Cambridge laboratory director came to an agreement, and both Wilkins' and Rosalind's articles were published second and third in the same issue of Nature. Still, it appeared that their articles were merely supporting Crick and Watson's.

According to Maddox, Rosalind didn't know that these men based their Nature article on her research, and she didn't complain either, likely as a result of her upbringing. Rosalind "didn't do anything that would invite criticism … [that was] bred into her," Maddox was quoted as saying in an October 2002 NPR interview. However, she is often also quoted as a victim as well as prime example of sexism in the field of science whereby she was never accorded proper credit for her vast body of work while her male colleagues got all the attention despite openly using her research.

Rosalind left King's College in March 1953 and relocated to Birkbeck College, where she studied the structure of the tobacco mosaic virus and the structure of RNA. Because Randall let Rosalind leave on the condition that she would not work on DNA, she turned her attention back to studies of coal. In five years, Rosalind published 17 papers on viruses, and her group laid the foundations for structural virology. She led pioneering work at Birkbeck on the molecular structures of viruses. Her team member Aaron Klug continued her research, winning the Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 1982.

As a person, Rosalind Franklin was best described as an agnostic. Her lack of religious faith apparently did not stem from anyone's influence, rather from her own inquisitive mind. She developed her scepticism as a young child. Her mother recalled that she refused to believe in the existence of god, and remarked, "Well, anyhow, how do you know He isn't She?" She however did not abandon Jewish traditions. As the only Jewish student at Lindores School, she had Hebrew lessons on her own while her friends went to church. She joined the Jewish Society while in her first term at Newnham College, Cambridge, out of respect of her grandfather's request. She confided to her sister that she was "always consciously a Jew". She loved travelling abroad, particularly trekking. She first ventured at Christmas 1929 for a vacation at Menton, France, where her grandfather went to escape English winter. A trip to France in 1938 gave her a lasting love for France and its language. She considered the French lifestyle as "vastly superior to that of English". In another instance, she trekked the French Alps with Jean Kerslake in 1946, which almost cost her her life when she slipped off on a slope, and was barely rescued. She made several professional trips to US, and was particularly jovial among her American friends and constantly displayed her sense of humour. William Ginoza of the University of California, Los Angeles later recalled that she was the opposite of Watson's description of her, and as Maddox comments, Americans enjoyed her "sunny side." She often expressed her political views. She initially blamed Winston Churchill for inciting the war, but later admired him for his speeches. She actively supported Professor John Ryle as an independent candidate for parliament in 1940, but he was unsuccessful. She did not seem to have intimate relationship with anyone and always kept her deepest personal feelings to herself. Since her younger days she avoided close friendship with the opposite sex.

In the fall of 1956, Rosalind discovered that she had ovarian cancer. She continued working throughout the following two years, despite having three operations and experimental chemotherapy. She experienced a 10-month remission and worked up until several weeks before her death on April 16, 1958, at the age of 37. She died four years before the Nobel prize was awarded to Watson, Crick and Wilkins for their work on DNA structure. She never learned the full extent to which Watson and Crick had relied on her data to make their model; if she suspected, she did not express any bitterness or frustration, and in subsequent years she became very friendly with Crick and his wife, Odile. It is clear that, had Franklin lived, the Nobel prize committee ought to have awarded her a Nobel prize, too – her conceptual understanding of the structure of the DNA molecule and its significance was on a par with that of Watson and Crick, while her crystallographic data were as good as, if not better, than those of Wilkins. The simple expedient would have been to award Watson and Crick the prize for Physiology or Medicine, while Franklin and Watkins received the prize for Chemistry. However, the Nobel Committee does not make posthumous nominations and hence Rosalind Franklin’s name was totally ignored at the time of granting the award. 

Source: Google search and Wikipedia.

Shereen Ratnagar

#40/100 in #100extraordinarywomen

Back in the days when archaeology was a developing discipline, it was – like so many things – dominated by men. Or so you would think if you only looked at Wikipedia’s archaeology page. In fact, some of the discipline’s most significant early developments were forged by women. Jane Dieulafoy, Gertrude Bell, Harriet Boyd Hawes, Kathleen Kenyon, Tatiana Proskouriakoff and Jacquetta Hawkes are just a handful of some of the boldest women from the early days of archaeology who were determined to push things forward in new and important ways. In the modern times, one such name that stands out in this excessively male dominated field is that of Shereen Ratnagar.

In the early days of nation building the past was used as a nation-building force. Many notions of Indian civilization had already been projected by the colonial administration and the early Indologists. The Harappan past was then seen through this lens. But how “Indian” was the Indus Valley Civilization, was a question often asked. Could it have been organized on the lines of caste, and could it have been an age without war, as has often been suggested? Shereen Ratnagar, a noted scholar investigating aspects of the Indus Civilization, has tried to answer these very pressing questions through her works. 

Shereen was educated at Deccan College, Pune, University of Pune. She studied Mesopotamian archaeology at the Institute of Archaeology, University College London. She was a professor of archaeology and ancient history at the Centre for Historical Studies at the Jawaharlal Nehru University, Delhi. Shereen gave up her Professorship in Archaeology when “it ceased to be fun” and has since been researching and teaching in various places. Her interests include the bronze age, trade, urbanism, pastoralism, and, recently, the social dimensions of early technology. She writes extensively and authoritatively on archaeological matters. Her books are widely read by students, teachers and scholars, of course, but also by the general reader. Her style of writing is friendly and accessible, which makes reading her a pleasure. She retired in 2000, and is currently an independent researcher living in Mumbai. She is noted for work on investigating the factors contributing to the end of the Indus Valley Civilization. She is the author of several texts and her books include ‘Understanding Harappa’ (Tulika, 2006), ‘The End of the Great Harappan Tradition’ (Manohar, 2002), ‘Trading Encounters from the Euphrates to the Indus in the Bronze Age’ (Delhi: Oxford 2004), ‘The Other Indians’ (Delhi: Three Essays 2006) and ‘Makers and Shapers: Early Indian Technology in the Household, Village and Urban Workshop’ (Delhi: Tulika 2007). 

Usually keeping a low profile and fiercely guarding her private life, Shereen came into limelight thanks to the Ayodhya controversy. Shereen along with archaeologist D. Mandal had spent a day, in 2003, examining the excavations conducted by the Archaeological Society of India (ASI) at the site of the Babri Masjid on behalf of the Sunni Waqf Board. Subsequently, the two researchers wrote a highly critical appraisal of the excavations by the ASI titled ‘Ayodhya: Archaeology after Excavation’. In 2010, they appeared as expert witnesses for the Sunni Waqf Board in the Ram Janmabhoomi-Babri Masjid case in the Allahabad High Court. In its judgement on the Ayodhya dispute, the High Court flayed the role played by several witnesses including her, who was forced to admit under oath that she had no field experience in archeological excavations in India. Shereen and her supporters defend her record by stating that she has participated in some archaeological digs at sites outside India, such as Tell al-Rimah, Iraq, in 1971, as well as in Turkey and the Gulf. Earlier in the case, Shereen was also served a contempt notice for violating a court order restraining witnesses in the ongoing case from airing their views in public.

Once again, she recently came into the limelight when Ashutosh Gowarikar’s movie, ‘Mohenjo Daro’, was released and was shrouded in controversy regarding historically inaccurate and politically controversial flashing of horses and the use of heavily Sanskritised dialogues in the film. When the film revived the age-old debate around the Harappan civilization, many journalists reached out to Shereen to gather her views on the controversial issues surrounding the civilisation.

However, controversies or no controversies, it cannot be denied that Shereen is by far an authority on the Harappan civilization and her immense contribution to its study cannot be underestimated. 

Source: Wikipedia and Google search.

Neelam Katara

#39/100 in #100extraordinarywomen

With her battle to get her son’s killers to justice reaching finality before the Supreme Court, Neelam Katara (now about 64 years old) was very recently in the limelight again, as usual decrying honour killings and musclemen-led politics. Neelam feels that losing her son and the the long legal battle has left deep wounds. Her health, family life and finances took a back seat while she fought to get her son’s killers punished. She also joked about whether she would need to ask for more security in the light of the judgment and the sharp remarks she has made against “corrupt” politicians. Her 14-year long fight for justice to prove her son's death was an "honour killing" is well known. A lone woman's fight against a political family with a strong criminal background can make anyone quiver to their knees. "I stayed strong. I wanted to fight for my son who always stood up for others," she said. But in the end, with the recent Supreme Court ruling, she feels that she can now rest in peace and have a normal life again.

Neelam’s son, Nitish Katara, was 23 when he was abducted and murdered by the three convicts as they were opposed to his relationship with Bharti, the sister of convict Vikas Yadav and daughter of Uttar Pradesh politician D P Yadav. The Katara family too was skeptical about the match, but never thought the affair would end like this. They didn’t approve of the relationship but Nitish was sure he wanted to marry Bharti. So, they were trying to respect his decision and all the time wondering and hoping that the affair would end in a while. They never imagined they would lose their son in the wake. The family also had very little time to consider the issue as Nitish informed his parents about his relationship in December 2001. He was killed two months later, in February 2002.

On the fateful night of 16th February 2002, Nitish attended a friends wedding in Ghaziabad along with Bharti. Bharti's mother, her brother Vikas and sister Bhavna were also all there. After the wedding, four people have told the court that they had seen Vikas Yadav and his cousin Vishal Yadav take Nitish into their Tata Safari SUV. His friends thought he would be returning soon, but when they had not returned till well past midnight, Bharat Divakar, who had accompanied Nitish to the wedding in a taxi, went to their house. It was 3 am when Neelam Katara opened the door, and she immediately called Bharti. It turned out that Bharti herself was trying to find out Nitish's whereabouts. She asked Neelam "to go to the police, adding that maybe her brothers – Vikas and Vishal – had taken Nitish to Punjab". Bharti is thought to have called her sister Bhavna Yadav, whose registered mobile phone number was used all night to call many friends of the couple, as well as Neelam Katara. Bharti also gave Neelam her father's number, and after a fruitless visit to the police, at 8 in the morning, Neelam called D. P. Yadav, who did not know where Vikas or Nitish might be. Next morning, the police found a battered and burned body at Khurja, 80 km from the wedding venue. The body had been so badly beaten that "the digestive system had fallen out". At 11 am in the morning, Neelam Katara filed a First Information Report. Based on initial statements by her and Bharti Yadav, warrants were issued for Vikas and Vishal. “The moment I saw that burnt body, I knew it was him. The policemen told me that they couldn’t bear that sight for long but I stood there and kept looking at Nitish’s battered and charred remains. That’s when I decided, I cannot let him die like this. He deserved justice and I would go to any extreme,” she recalls. In her FIR, on the basis of the conversations she had with Nitish's friends while searching for his whereabouts, Neelam set down her deep suspicions that Vikas and Vishal Yadav, Bharti's brothers, who had disapproved of her relationship with Nitish, were involved in the crime. Subsequently, she filed a habeas corpus at the advice of senior Supreme Court woman lawyer, Kamini Jaiswal, who has been her pro-bono legal adviser ever since. What proceeded was years of legal battle, court proceedings, convictions, bails and appeals.

Neelam says, “Had Bharti's brothers not killed Nitish, they would have killed Bharti in the name of caste and honour. ‘Honour killings’ have been a common occurrence. They happen every week in little towns of states like UP, where I was born and brought up.” In fact, Neelam is really unhappy at caste becoming such a major source of divisions in contemporary India. Nitish himself was brought up never to make distinctions based on caste. For the Kataras “caste was purely a phenomenon of medieval times”. “When I came to know about Nitish and Bharti, the only thing I was wary about was that her brother, Vikas, was one of the accused in the Jessica Lal murder case. We did not even know of her father's criminal political background,” she recalls.

An English honours graduate and a pass out from Loreto Convent in Lucknow, Neelam says this courage was ingrained in her by the school. “My teachers had always encouraged us to ask questions. That is what gave me the courage to take on powerful men and defeat them in their own turf. It sure was a perilous journey, but I had to embark upon it. There was no other choice left for me. My husband was dying of a motor neurological disorder and my youngest son was still pursuing his graduation. I had to fight to save our reputation and get justice for my Nitish,” she says. Since then it has been almost 3,000 court visits and rounds of the legal offices to understand where the case was headed. It took her a few years to just come to terms with the legal procedures. But giving up was never an option.

A teacher and education adviser with the Kendriya Vidyala Board at that time, Neelam says teaching was always her first love and she was never interested in climbing the ladder and becoming the principal. She retired as the education officer and is now working with the British Council for the English language assessment arm. “I took a break after the incident, because I couldn’t handle all the running around with the job at hand. At present, I am with the British Council. It keeps me busy. I have to go three days a week and work from home a bit. The going is good,” she says. Although Neelam's father was a police officer with the Uttar Pradesh (UP) police, her maternal grandfather a judge and her paternal grandfather a public prosecutor she, like most ordinary Indians, had no awareness of the way the legal system worked. "In school we are taught science and general knowledge. But no one gives us basic legal knowledge or even legal rights awareness. I think having this information in today's crime ridden times will be a great asset," she states.

Her first visit to the court in Ghaziabad was an eye opener for her. Like most people, Neelam’s knowledge of courts was limited to what she had seen in the movies. Till she landed up in one herself. There were hundreds of men in black robes intimidating people around them. They were abusive, crass and looked like goons to her. The push and shove continued for a few hours before she even made it to the hearing. This slowly became a routine. When her husband died in August 2003, that was the only time that Neelam wanted to give up and take a back seat. “I was slightly de-motivated. We had not expected Nishit to leave like this. He was suffering but he was agile. The stress was a little too much for him. My husband has always been an organised man. He was the plan A, plan B kind of a guy. If we were out on a holiday, he was the sort to reserve two hotels — what if we don’t like the first arrangement? The Nitish case shocked him,” Neelam recalls. A few days after she had decided to let go of the case and simply resign to her fate, politician DP Yadav, the father of the accused, was disowned by his party in just four days after the media raised a hue and cry. “That was my green signal from God. I was not waging this battle on my own,” she says.

In November 2002, when the trials began, things had looked bad. Witness after witness turned hostile. Under immense family pressure, even Bharti denied any involvement with Nitish and left for the UK. The financial drain was severe when in January 2004 the public prosecutor ditched her and she had to hire a private lawyer. This led her to spend most of her husband's retirement benefits. Stress had taken a toll on Neelam. It led her to put on a lot of weight in the first eight years of her battle, which resulted in her developing blood pressure related problems. She then started taking care of herself with medication and regulated her weight. By her side today were her 80-year-old parents in Muzaffarnagar, UP, who she visited for a week every month. But support or no support, Neelam soldiered on.

For a jovial person who had little idea about police stations and court proceedings, Neelam says she took everything as a learning opportunity. “I have had a very protected childhood. But this murder changed me forever. At first, I blindly followed what the Government appointed prosecutor was saying. But I reaslied he was not going to stay much longer. Then another prosecutor came but the moment he dropped Bharti Yadav as a key witness from his list, I knew he was not fighting for us. I had to hire someone and I am glad we took the decision early. When Kamini Jaiswal, the Supreme Court lawyer and my advisor told me to first fight for the case to be shifted to Delhi, I didn’t see where she was going. I had no idea that it would be such a huge step in ensuring justice for my son. Many people congratulated me saying that this was half the battle won!,” she recalls.

Despite the personal loss and the odds stacked against her, Neelam remained a picture of composure all through the battle. She conducted herself with dignity, ignoring grave provocation from the defence side, which launched many personal attacks on her. Though despair and frustration, the gritty mother made sure she was present at all court proceedings. Several times, whenever the prosecution got adverse rulings, she nudged them to move the High Court and even the Supreme Court. Her first victory came on August 23, 2002 when the Supreme Court transferred the trial from a court in Ghaziabad to Delhi on her petition that the powerful accused were influencing the trial. Her role in forcing the prosecution to bring Bharti Yadav from UK to India to depose after she had evaded the court for three years, was critical in the manner the case turned out. However, the biggest disappointment in this battle for her also turned out to be Bharti’s attitude who, she felt let Nitish down big time. “She was in touch with me for the initial three weeks after Nitish was murdered and wrote a lot of confidential emails. But when she finally appeared in the court to give her account she backtracked without battling an eyelid. My son would have never done that. I felt disappointed that Nitish chose her,” she lets her heart out, but maintains her poise throughout.

After the trial court in 2008 convicted Vikas and Vishal Yadav as well as Sukhdev Pehlwan in the murder, legal loopholes created fresh problems for Katara. Requests for parole for the three convicts before the Delhi High Court led to the revelation, via RTI, that the Yadavs had been going in and out of prison for “hospital visits” and “court dates” which stretched far beyond what the rules allow. “There is no implementation of the laws, that’s why the rich and influential people are not scared. Am I supposed to spend my life filing RTIs about whether they are out on parole again?” she says. On the recent Supreme Court order, she says, “This is a milestone judgment.” She hopes that the punishment would “act as deterrent to others” who consider honour killing. “Life imprisonment is a misnomer. In 14 years’ imprisonment, criminals get out of jail even earlier on remission and keep coming out on parole. This judgment of 25 years without remission will be a deterrent,” she says.

Has anything changed for the better in all these years? “Emotionally, I have learnt to move on and be strong around my family. Physically, I have had some problems but they are under control now and socially, I have become more proactive and sensitive to issues concerning women. But when it comes to our legal system, I feel we are still much behind times. There is no witness protection programme in place as yet. There is no counselling for the victim’s family either. The criminal is counselled in the jail but what about the victim’s family? It’s as if it is our fault that our son got murdered,” Katara, who braved many indirect threats when the case was at its peak, says. “I would get weird calls from strangers telling me that they had tried to fight against the Yadavs but all they got in return was more pain and suffering. Sometimes, there were threat notes stuck on their gate and blank calls became a common occurrence. This did not deter me at all. It only told me that I am on the right path,” she says, breaking into a smile. 

“People have said I neglected my younger son because of this case. He now works and lives abroad and never got married. Someone once said it was because of the case and because I didn’t have time for him,” she says. Her youngest son, Nitin who was studying in Pune during the incident is now working for Interpol and is well-settled in this contractual job in the US. “Nitin very much wanted to be a part of the proceedings. He couldn’t believe that his mother would single-handedly manage everything. But I had made up my mind to keep him as far as possible from this matter. The moment he wrapped up his graduation from MIT Pune, I sent him to Leeds for his management degree. The money we got from Nitish’s life insurance was put to good use,” a proud mother tells you. She once said, “Nitin often asks me why all of this had to happen to him. To which I answer, ‘Some people have a perfect youth and a difficult old age like I had, and some have it tough like you in their youth. May be you have a lovely phase hereafter.’” It’s not as if Nitin did not contribute towards this situation at all. He stood as a pillar of support all through the tough times and even now ensures that his mother is occupied. “I visit him often and am happy with the way he has dealt with the entire thing. Nitin has paced his life well,” she says, confiding secretly that she may have not been able to devote a lot of time towards Nitin in his important years but as long as he understands, it’s all well.

Neelam’s inspiring persona has won her many admirers, at work and otherwise. In fact, very often as a member of the Kendriya Vidyalaya Board’s interview panel, she encounters young teachers, who are more delighted to meet her than to be called in for a promotion interview. She advises young people not to get cynical, speak up against injustice and never give up: “You have to be willing to make sacrifices and fight your own case. The rest are just waiting for you to give up.” “Murder for love doesn’t happen. Honour killing can’t be justified in any society. The battle is not over. I will stop only that day when there is a strict law against honour killing,” the crusader for justice, says. Neelam now plans to work towards getting a law against honour killing. She also wants to work spread awareness on Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) - the disease that took her husband's life. There's no doubt, with her steely determination, she will achieve this as well. “I am not a very ritualistic person. However, whenever I have been completely down and out, something shows me the way ahead. ...Maybe that’s God.” That's Neelam Katara for you, a picture of rare courage and quiet optimism. 

Source: Google Search

Jean Batten

#38/100 in #100extraordinarywomen

Google threw an interesting doodle today – Jean Batten’s 107th birthday, it said. Now I was curious, who Jean Batten was. The search made for an interesting read.

Jane Gardner Batten (named "Jane" at birth, her name soon morphed into "Jean") was a New Zealand aviator; born on 15th September 1909 to Frederick Batten, a dental surgeon, and Ellen Batten (who would become her strong supporter in her choice of a piloting career). She had two older brothers.

She was the manifestation of triumph and hope against the odds through the dark days of the Depression. In 1934, she smashed, by six days, Amy Johnson’s flight time between England and Australia. The following year, she was the first woman to make the return flight. In 1936, she made the first ever direct flight between England and New Zealand and then the fastest ever trans-Tasman flight. Jean Batten was the ‘Garbo of the Skies’. She stood for adventure, daring, exploration and glamour. In her time, Jean Batten was one of the most famous people in the world. Jean was born in Rotorua, New Zealand in 1909. A few weeks before her birth, the French pilot Bleriothad become the first man to fly across the English Channel, and Jean’s mother, Ellen, cut out a related newspaper article and pinned it to the wall beside the newborn’s cot. It is difficult to imagine what Ellen had in mind. She was a proto-feminist, an extrovert and a staunch admirer of the suffragettes. Whether Ellen’s ambitions for Jean with the clipping were specific or symbolic, it turned out her daughter was to follow Bleriot to the skies. The clipping was but a sign of things to come. Throughout Jean’s life her mother was to be her single greatest influence. The two were incredibly close. As Jean grew older she developed a mercenary attitude towards men, which was perhaps gleaned from Ellen, whose pride had been hurt by an unfaithful husband. Ellen was a strong, independent woman struggling to assert roles for herself beyond wife and mother.

The family moved from Rotorua to Auckland when Jean was four. Jean’s school and teenage years were a strange and turbulent time. Although she went to a private school and the family were never on the bread line, money was always an issue. This was possibly the effect of World War 1 and later the personal politicking between the warring parents. Since Jean’s birth, the family had been demarcated along gender lines: Ellen, with Jean, against husband Fred and Jean’s brothers. Jean went to the ‘Ladies College’ in Remuera; the boys went to a State school. When the parents finally split in 1920, Ellen took Jean; to her, the boys were Fred’s concern.

Ellen was free-spirited and ambitious, with an aggressive determination that might, in later times, have been described as ‘feminist’. These notions were amplified after her separation from Fred. She instilled in the young Jean the idea, radical for its time, that to succeed in the world she must compete with men in male pursuits. At that time flying was the most daring, dangerous and exciting activity on earth: modern, largely untested and spectacular. It was the most male of male pursuits. Jean’s interest in flying grew. Fred and Jean went to hear Australian ace Charles Kingsford Smith speak at a celebratory dinner in Auckland in 1928, after his flight across the Pacific. Here, she announced to her astounded father and the bemused Australian flying ace (who had stopped to chat to the pretty teenager) “I’m going to learn to fly.”

Jean’s interest became part of the fight between her warring parents. As Mackersey notes, “[Fred] regarded the whole notion [of Jean flying] as preposterous, ‘It’s far too dangerous,’ he said, recalling the many flying accidents he had witnessed on the Western Front,” and implying that such pursuits should be left to the blokes. But Jean had other ideas. On a visit to Australia in 1929, she persuaded Ellen to seek out Kingsford Smith to take her for a flight in the Southern Cross. Ellen agreed, doing everything in her power to support the teenager’s flying aspirations.

In 1930, Jean and Ellen left Auckland for London. The move was ostensibly to further Jean’s musical education (she was a gifted pianist) but London was also the centre of the aviation world. Shortly after her arrival in England Jean joined the London Aeroplane Club and started taking lessons at the Stag Lane aerodrome – gaining her ‘A’ (private) license in December 1931. By this time aviation was past its infancy and women flyers were not unusual. Jean said later that she took to flying ‘like a penguin takes to water’. Other flying pupils at the time remember her differently: ambitious and determined, but a slow learner and terrible at landings. Throughout her apprenticeship, her publicly stated main focus was to be the first person to fly between England and New Zealand. To those around her this notion was patently ridiculous, but she was undeterred. She applied herself assiduously and, after a brief return to New Zealand, gained her commercial license in mid-1931.

Jean was resolute in her determination to complete the flight from England to New Zealand, and to achieve more than ‘just’ this. As Ian Mackersey says, she “had an almost messianic faith in herself, and an unshakeable conviction that she had a significant role to play in putting New Zealand womankind on the map”. With this self-belief and sense of purpose came the notion that it was the duty of others to fund her flights. Despite the later embroided self-depiction of her state of affairs, her own resources were meagre: The post-ware depression hit her father’s Auckland dental practice hard and his allowances to her had dwindled to nothing. She had sold her piano and long since spent the proceeds. But she still managed to fund her way into the sky. Jean was physically attractive and was aware of her allure. On several occasions, besotted men gave her large sums of money for her missions – in the case of Kiwi RAF pilot Fred Truman, his entire life savings. Many were under the impression Jean would marry them. She never married. Jean’s flying skills improved on a parallel with her powers of persuasion. In 1932, she was virtually gifted a second-hand Gipsy Moth bi-plane by the elegant, public-school educated and infatuated Victor Doree, who borrowed the purchase price from his wealthy linen-merchant family. Such patronage was to set Jean on the way to achieving all her aspirations for fame and success.

Jean had won her commercial license, but was not interested in merely making flying her job. She wanted to break records. She wanted to be the object of adulation. In 1933, she left England to fly to Australia. English aviatrix, Amy Johnson, had made it in 20 days, three years earlier and Jean had to break that record. She wanted to make it in 14 days. It didn’t happen on the first attempt, engine failure in India bringing the mission to an untimely end. This was the first time Jean had flown away from England and the first time she had flown over the sea or the desert, which were no small feats in the tiny, flimsy bi-plane. But for Jean Batten it was failure and a pot-hole on the road to destiny. Her second attempt ended even closer to England. She ran out of petrol over Italy and had to make a dangerous emergency landing between Rome and Marseilles. With the plane slightly damaged in the landing she was grounded in Italy for a week, thus destroying any chance of breaking Amy Johnson’s record. She returned to England. Jean took off again on May 8th 1934: destination Australia. Battling the elements, she reached Darwin in 14 days and 22 hours, not quite a day longer than her stated goal but smashing Amy Johnson’s time by five days. She even flew back to England from Australia, the first woman to make the return flight. She gave talks and attended receptions in her honour. She was employed to give talks accompanying an RAF recruitment film – an unprecedented move, as at that time such employment was a bastion of male privelege.

Thanks to earnings from her two successful flights – proceeds of her overflowing lecture/cinema tours, fees from Gaumont British and the Express, and a major endorsement deal with Castrol (advertisements with Jean’s image began to appear with the slogan “If there were a better oil than Wakefield Castrol I would use it”) – Jean was able to upgrade the Gipsy Moth. With the help of a generous cheque of £1000 from Lord Wakefield after her Australia flight, she bought a Percival Gull monoplane. With its lightweight metal propeller, hydraulic brakes (the Moth had no brakes), an automatic petrol pump, landing flaps, a 200 hp engine and an extra fuel tank, the Gull was the machine Jean would break new records in.

Now very much the object of public fascination in England, Australia and New Zealand, Jean was preparing for another long-distance flight; this time across the South Atlantic between West Africa and Brazil. The record time for the route, 85 hours and 20 minutes, was held by Scotsman, Jim Mollison. Jean took off from France for Casablanca on November 11, 1935, landing at her destination nine and a half hours later – an unintentional record. Then on to Thies in Senegal, from where she would leave for South America. Freak storms over the Equator made the Gull’s instruments go haywire and, with the compass out of action, Jean was convinced she was off course. It was only when the weather cleared and she saw cargo vessels on shipping routes that she knew she was heading in the right direction. She made Port Natal, Brazil, in 61 hours and 15 minutes, almost a day faster than Mollison.

The receptions she had been honoured with in Australia and New Zealand were repeated in South America, taking the levels of hero worship to new heights. In Brazil she was awarded the Order of the Southern Cross, an honour never before given to a member of the British Empire who was not of royal birth. She was made an honorary member of the air force in three countries and ‘the dashing and fearless aviator’ was rushed by crowds of well-wishers everywhere she went. She was, by now, one of the most famous aviatrixes in the world and the public waited anxiously for the announcement of her next feat. They were not to be disappointed. It was a flight from England to Auckland: across the world to the edge of the Empire. She took off on the 5th of October 1936. It was 3.30am when, bathed in autumn moonlight she walked out to her aeroplane, but there was already an enormous crowd of reporters, newsreel cameramen, photographers and fans gathered to see her off. As she crossed the English Channel, the frightening enormity of the flight dawned on her: 14,000 miles, including 1300 miles over the treacherous Tasman.

The Percival Gull performed brilliantly. She made Australia in six days, which was less than half the time it had taken in the Gipsy Moth three years earlier, setting a new solo record. Her second touchdown in Sydney rivalled her first as adoring crowds came out en masse. Not content to merely fly across the world, Jean made sure she was always glamorous, so fostering and encouraging the popular perception of her as ‘the Garbo of the Skies’. She always brought evening dresses with her for receptions and would emerge from the cockpit after long flights wearing makeup and dressed in a white flying suit.

Although Australia wanted her to stay, she was determined to cross the Tasman. In the days leading up to her departure she had been criticised in a newspaper editorial for undertaking the flight because of the time and money it would cost to rescue her if she crashed. She replied with a short statement designed, through gallantry and sacrifice, to override the pettiness of the original criticism: “If I go down in the sea no one must fly out and look for me. I have chosen to make this flight, and I am confident I can make it, but I have no wish to imperil the lives of others or cause trouble or expense to my country.” She took off at 4.40 am, October 16, 1936. The flight took 10 and a half hours, during which time thousands on both sides of the Tasman held their breath, waiting between regular news updates of her flight. She said later that she almost “lost her nerve” flying across the Tasman. Encountering terrible weather, she was convinced she was off course. She did not see land until she was almost over it, and before she reached the Taranaki coast she had practically given up hope, despite her instruments telling her she was still on course. News of Jean’s touchdown at Auckland airport caused 13 miles of traffic jams as New Zealanders welcomed home their adventurous daughter. Returning to her birth place of Rotorua, she was once again guest of honour of local Maori, as she had been after the 1934 journey. She was gifted a chief’s feather cloak and given the title Hine-o-te-Rangi – “Daughter of the Skies”.

After several months rest in New Zealand and Australia, she flew back to England. She made the trip in five days and 18 hours; she now held the world record in both directions. Yet she had decided that this would be her last long distance flight. She was happy with her achievements, and the flying world also recognised what she had achieved. In 1938, she was awarded the medal of the Federation Aeronautique Internationale, aviation’s highest honour, being the first woman to receive it. 

World War Two ended her flying adventures. Her Gull was commissioned to active service but Batten was not permitted to fly it. During the war she was involved in campaigns giving lectures in England to raise money for guns and aeroplanes, but her flying days were over. After the war she retired from public life except for a few anniversary appearances. There is some mystery as to why she was never accepted into the Air Transport Auxiliary. Possibly it was due to double vision incurred in an earlier crash, or perhaps because she wasn’t a team player. Whatever it was, the war signalled the end of Jean’s long distance flying adventures, and the end of Jean in the public eye. After the war she lived in Jamaica and then Spain. She continued to live with Ellen until her mother’s death in 1965, the devotion of both women growing stronger with the years. 

Jean Batten’s last visit to New Zealand was in 1977 where she was guest of honour at the opening of the Aviation Pioneers Pavilion at Auckland’s Museum of Transport and Technology in Auckland. It would be the last time many heard of her. After the visit she returned to Spain, living a quiet, reclusive existence; but the influence of Ellen would stay with her the rest of her life. Because of her reclusiveness in later life, it was over a year before those who had kept up some form of correspondence with Jean, on not hearing from her, began to worry. It was 1983. In 1982 she had been bitten by a dog on the island of Majorca. She refused treatment and the wound became infected. She died alone in a hotel on Majorca, from complications from the dog bite, and was buried on 22nd January 1983. She was buried under her middle name, Gardner, in a pauper's grave in Majorca in 1983 - she'd only been there for a week and they didn't know who she was - and it wasn't discovered until five years later. Thus the world, and her relatives, did not learn of her passing until September 1987 when at the instigation of Batten’s London publisher, Bob Pooley, some cursory investigations were advanced by the New Zealand Government. These inquiries and those of her remaining family were slowed by a real concern not to invade Batten’s private world, and they proved fruitless. Despite some media speculation about her whereabouts, it would take four and half years and the tireless detective work of documentary film-makers Ian and Caroline Mackersey, to uncover the mystery and bureaucratic obfuscation that hid Batten’s lonely death. It was an tragic demise that could only serve to further the Batten legend. A plaque now rests on the wall above the ignominious paupers’ grave where she is buried. The Times (London) paid tribute to her fame and daring in a major obituary, and Auckland International Airport bears her name.

Not only her beauty and stellar celebrity, but also her eccentric and withdrawn habits had come to mirror her cinematic counterpart, Greta Garbo. She became known as the "Greta Garbo of the skies". In October 2008 a musical “Garbo of the Skies” written by Paul Andersen-Gardiner and Rebekah Hornblow had its inaugural performance in Opunake by the Opunake Players at the Lakeside Playhouse. It was based on Ian Mackersey's biography.

Jean Batten took New Zealand from the edge – “A magnificent woman and her flying machine.” – With determination and skill she took on the elements in a dynamic and unexplored new technology, in the process making the world seem smaller, and linking New Zealand with that world in a more tangible way than ever before. She captured the imagination of an age and her feats of daring broke barriers of distance, time and gender.

Source: NZedge.com, Wikipedia and basic Google search