There are over 200 million illiterate women in India. This low

In the words of Sachin Tendulkar, the beloved son of India and voice of compassion, lies a truth both ancient and urgent: “There are over 200 million illiterate women in India. This low literacy negatively impacts not just their lives but also their families' and the country's economic development. A girl's lack of education also has a negative impact on the health and well-being of her children.” These words ring like the toll of a sacred bell, calling all who hear them to awaken from the slumber of neglect. They speak not merely of numbers, but of souls—of women whose light has been dimmed by ignorance, and of nations whose destinies falter when half their strength lies untaught.

The ancients said, “When you educate a woman, you educate a generation.” For the wisdom of women has always been the secret river that nourishes the roots of civilization. In the days of old, kingdoms flourished when queens and mothers guided them with learning and virtue. But where women were silenced, the soil grew barren, and the songs of progress faded into dust. So Tendulkar’s words are not a lament—they are a summons, a call to remember that education is the divine torch by which the human spirit sees its own power.

Consider the story of Savitribai Phule, born in 1831, in a time when teaching a girl to read was seen as rebellion against heaven itself. She, with her husband Jyotirao, opened the first school for girls in India. Villagers hurled stones and insults at her as she walked to teach, yet she carried a second sari each day—one to wear, one to replace after being soiled by cruelty. Her resolve did not falter, for she knew that to educate the girl was to liberate the future. Through her courage, thousands of girls found their voice, and through them, India found the dawn of reform.

Tendulkar’s words carry the same fire that burned in Savitribai’s heart. When he speaks of illiterate women, he does not speak only of reading and writing—he speaks of dignity, awareness, and empowerment. A woman who can read the world around her can protect her children from disease, demand fairness in her home, and contribute to her nation’s prosperity. But when literacy is denied, darkness multiplies. Poverty deepens, children grow frail, and the nation limps where it could soar. This is no mere metaphor; it is the law of life itself—ignorance breeds suffering, while education gives birth to freedom.

In the great tapestry of existence, woman is the first teacher. It is from her lips that a child first learns words, manners, and dreams. If her tongue has been silenced by illiteracy, then generations stumble in the dark. The health of her children, the strength of her family, and the progress of her homeland are all bound to the knowledge she carries. Thus, the education of a woman is not charity—it is nation-building, the purest act of service to humankind.

And yet, we must not leave this truth as mere praise upon our lips. We must act. Each of us, in our own sphere, can become a bearer of the flame. Teach a girl. Support a woman’s education. Speak for equality when silence would be easier. Let no daughter be told her mind is unworthy of light. Let no mother feel shame for learning beside her child. For in every woman who learns, the world itself learns again what it means to hope.

The lesson, then, is simple but eternal: knowledge is power, and the power of women is the power of civilization. When a woman reads, the earth itself is renewed. When a girl learns, the chains of poverty crack and fall away. As Tendulkar’s voice reminds us, the fate of a nation is written not in the stars, but in the education of its daughters. So go forth, and wherever you find ignorance, plant the seed of learning. For from that seed shall rise the forest of a brighter, freer world.