Meet Anshu, a 12-year-old seventh-grader who missed her year-end Math exam—not out of fear or unpreparedness, but because of her first period. A bright red stain on her skirt became a spectacle of humiliation, forcing her to skip school the next day, when her exam was due.

Vaishali spends five days a month in a broken mud ‘period hut’, isolated and unsafe. Her sister died in one of these huts from a snake bite one of the monsoons. Yet, tradition compels her to endure this humiliating seclusion.

Preeti, 14, wore the same sanitary pad for two days during a relative’s wedding, too afraid to reveal that her period has started. The fear of being excluded, not being allowed to participate in any rituals and labelled ‘impure’ silenced her, even from seeking help from her own mother.

Then there’s Pooja, whose unbearable menstrual cramps were dismissed as ‘normal’ for years. Only when her pain escalated to become a medical emergency, did her family took her to a hospital, where she got diagnosed with having Endometriosis—a serios medical condition silently wreaking havoc all along.

Asha, Bindu, and Devi. All these women have to rely on leaves, sand, ash, husk, or even scraps of paper to manage their periods because sanitary pads are an unaffordable luxury. These desperate measures jeopardize the health of these daily wage farming women who have to work in fields for 9-10 hours a day. A safe and hygienic period product is not accessible, available or affordable to these women.