Unknown role model

Premlata Agarwal. Heard of her? Marwari woman from Jharkhand. Mother of two. Jeez, why ever should you have heard of her, I can hear you think. And I'd be thinking the same really, if, a couple of weeks ago I hadn't found myself on a mountain top in Uttarkashi, setting up a camera between the grey, purple and white of snowy peaks and the gold and green of maize fields, preparing to interview Bachendri Pal, the first Indian woman to climb Mount Everest.



Now, I'll fight anyone who doubts my lazy, unadventurous credentials to the death. I have zero interest in risking my life (not to mention the dregs of my dignity as I vomit in terror) hanging from ropes above ravines. I confess, my reaction to those who relish this stuff ranges from puzzled tolerance to bored irritation to deep suspicion about their racial supremacist tendencies.

But even a character like me, was, frankly, utterly inspired by the woman I was interviewing, whose favourite phrase is "can-do spirit"; by the story of a young girl from a tiny Uttarakhand village, practicing mountaineering with rucksacks full of stones in the hills near home and soon after summitting Everest in the 1980s; by her brisk humility and big smile; and by a phone call she received while we were filming.

"Heartiest congratulations!" she kept saying into the phone. That's how I heard of Premlata Agarwal. After the cal,l Ms Pal told us, "Good news. One of my students has become the second Indian woman to climb Everest."

We exclaimed and clapped, but I was curious about Bachendri Pal. How did it feel to no longer be the only one? Of course, nothing changes the fact that you were the first. Still, after 27 years of being the only one with the glory of an achievement, there must be a twinge or two,u00a0 that now, there was someone else to share the glory.

Finally, I asked her. She laughed -- "do you think I want to keep climbing the same mountain again and again? No, if you've been lucky enough to achieve something, it is imperative that you then help others to get there too. I'm proud of having played a part in her success, proud that my belief in her was justified."

It doesn't get cooler than this -- you don't have to be present in the fervour of the moment to see that. First of all, climbing Everest is not exactly a little adventure-sports getaway. It requires the greatest stamina, skill and strength of spirit -- and amazing commitment. On top of it Premlata Agarwal is 47 years old; no young thing. She comes from a fairly conservative Marwari family in Jharkhand -- but her own determination and the crucial mentorship of someone like Bachendri Pal earned her family support and encouragement all the way.

She reached Everest on May 21st.u00a0 Nearly two weeks later, there's nothing noticeable in the media. An Internet search only turns up a couple of small items on regional websites. Cricketers, already bloated with endorsements, get one crore each from the government after winning the world cup, because they "did the country proud", and papers burst with that twaddle for weeks after, while so many other achievements go unnoticed. Why doesn't Premlata's story matter? Because her victory does not involve anyone else's defeat?

Because we prefer fantasies of how things come easy to patent holding idiot-geniuses and privileged, good looking people over hopeful stories of people who persevere to overcome circumstances and human limitation? We have strange standards indeed, in the role model and national pride department.

Paromita Vohra is an award-winning Mumbai-based filmmaker, writer and curator working with fiction and non-fiction. Reach her at www.parodevi.com.

The views expressed in this column are the individual's and don't represent those of the paper.