Why did Savitribai Phule carry two saris when she went to school?

Let’s talk about a woman who faced unimaginable challenges yet changed the course of history with her courage and determination.

In 19th-century India, educating women was seen as a radical and scandalous act. Savitribai Phule, alongside her husband Jotirao Phule, took on this mission, knowing it would draw fierce opposition.

But she couldn’t have imagined the level of hostility she’d face.

Men, mostly from upper caste, intent on sabotaging her work waited on the streets she walked daily to her school. They hurled stones, mud, and even cow dung at her, shouting abuses and insults.

Their goal? To humiliate and discourage her.

To protect her dignity and continue her work, Savitribai began carrying two saris.

One sari would inevitably get soiled on her way to school, so she’d change into the clean one once she arrived. On her way home, the fresh sari would face the same fate.

But Savitribai refused to back down. She walked those same streets every day, unwavering in her mission to educate the marginalized.

Her resilience eventually led to the appointment of a guard to ensure her and her students’ safety. Yet, this didn’t stop her detractors from trying to derail her work.

But Savitribai’s spirit was unshakable.

The soiling of saris hasn’t ended yet. Even today, hate propaganda against Savitribai continues, both online and offline. As a symbol of resistance against Brahminical and patriarchal hegemony, she remains a target.

But Savitribai was never a discriminator. She stood against oppression in all forms and for all people. In fact, she was a liberator for Brahmin women too.

She organized a protest against barbers, demanding they refuse to tonsure the heads of widowed Brahmin girls—a cruel practice meant to strip them of dignity and identity.

Her fight was against the oppressor class, wherever and whenever they wielded their dominance.

In 1863, an incident involving a young Brahmin widow named Kashibai, a local cook, left Savitribai and Jotirao deeply shaken.

Kashibai, exploited by an upper caste man, became pregnant and was abandoned. Fearing societal backlash, she took a drastic step.

When she couldn’t abort the child, Kashibai gave birth—but in despair, she killed the newborn and threw the body in a well. The crime was discovered, and Kashibai was sentenced to life imprisonment in the Andamans.

She became the first woman in India to face such severe punishment. This tragedy spurred Savitribai and Jotirao into action. Despite their limited means, they opened a Home for the Prevention of Infanticide in their own house at 395, Ganj Peth, Pune.

They put up posters around Pune and in pilgrimage sites, calling it a “way to avoid kalepani” (life imprisonment in the Andamans).

Pamphlets advertised the shelter with these words:

“Widows, come here and deliver your baby safely and secretly. It is up to your discretion whether you want to keep the baby in the centre or take it with you.”

The response was overwhelming.

By 1884, 35 widows from across India had found refuge in their home. Savitribai personally helped in the delivery of children born to these widows. She cared for the mothers and their babies, ensuring they were treated with dignity in a society that had discarded them.

While others debated and lamented the plight of brahmin and non-brahmin widows, Savitribai and Jotirao took action. They didn’t just speak about injustice—they fought it head-on, often at great personal cost.

Savitribai Phule carried two saris to school—not just to shield herself from the cruelty of her tormentors but as a symbol of her indomitable spirit. She turned stones into flowers, cow dung into blessings, and society’s hatred into a mission.

Her words still echo: “The stones or cow dung you throw seem like flowers to me. May God bless you!”

A reminder that true courage isn’t about avoiding the dirt—it’s about rising above it and planting seeds of change.