Do you pay a price for being truthful and honest? Mallika Sarabhai gives us a first-hand account of her struggle to lead a transparent life and stick to her purpose

Many years ago,I saw a film called 'The Deer Hunter'. In it, a group of well-to-do businessmen, good family men, went on a yearly deer hunt. This was an all-male vacation that all of them spent the year looking forward to - the highlight of the year. So far so good; except that the men, in fact, hunted other humans. This was their sport of sports, the biggest orgasm of their mundane lives. I wondered then how the hunted felt. Today I know.

How did it begin? When did it begin? Did it begin when I was 12 and decided that I would follow my father's footsteps in making my own decisions about what is right and wrong in life, irrespective of whether they were acceptable to society or not? Or did it begin when I first started living with someone at a time when live-in relationships were not fashionable? Or when I decided to quit a lucrative film career because I didn't like the people involved? Or when I stood up to authority or refused to be cowed down by 'better sense'? Or when, as a dancer, it made more sense to me to bring out the horrors of caste violence than of 'bhakti' and the love for Shiva?

Twenty-three years into an arts and activist career. Many battles and many scars. Mine has been a constant attempt to lead a transparent life because I believe that is the best way to empower others, by showing them yourself - hurt, battered but still standing. And by sharing the process of healing, coming out of a bloodied battlefield and sharing with thousands of other women the process of regeneration. My articles, my shows, my interviews, my work has been with this purpose.

What are the charges? That I stole Rs 20,000 from a student? That I am actually not a dancer, that Darpana Academy, the institution with 24,000 graduates and 25,000 performances, is not an arts institution but a den of human trafficking? Are these worth answering? Do I want to address myself to anyone foolish enough, or uninformed enough to give these accusations countenance? No.

But there are much larger issues at stake. Issues of the freedom to live as Indians, to live by our Constitution, to live with larger ideals than those of upholding the values of one's own family or clan.

I am beginning to feel that I live in a time warp . I live in a time when cynicism rules our lives. We have seen so many icons blighted, corrupted, sold out for greed, selfishness and self-preservation, or for sheer callousness, that as a society we have become incapable of believing that some people do what they do because they think it is right.

Yes, of course I like to be respected, admired, in demand and thought of as beautiful and talented. But I like even more to be able to wake up every morning with a burning wish to right some wrongs, to use that adulation and fame to break walls of lies and silence that oppress groups or castes or societies. Yes, I think I am uniquely placed for this, being the inheritor of the mantle of two families who have given their all to nation building and to spreading truth, fearlessness and pride in being Indian - but I do not think I am the only one so placed. Yes, it would be much more comfortable performing dances at conferences and congresses, but that would be denying what I feel is the purpose of my life.

Why do I care so much for India? I don't know. But I care for our people. Because I love life and I think divisions based on caste, creed, religion and gender, are ways in which we hide our fear of facing and living life truly and fully. To hide behind the mask of my 'gotra' is to not be able to take on the joys of being. It is to live in a trap and like the bird in a cage, we mistake imprisonment for safety. And then spend our lives looking for a meaning, through yoga, parties and wealth and the show of wealth. And we pander to those institutions that have now become the walls of the edifice that we call our world. Yet, we all know that that world is putrid and crumbling.

Is it not fear of facing the truth that makes us so happy when we see someone truthful brought to the dust? "Ah, you see how false is her moralistic stand?" we enjoy saying. Why? Because it makes us feel better to cheat and be immoral as long as it is not known by the public? Why am I talking of all this, when I have been given an opportunity to speak the truth about the abuse levelled at me? Why am I not talking here about how Darpana arrived at the arithmetic of that tour or other tours or of how the circumstances and timing of the case against me are suspicious? Because this IS my truth. This is what has lead me to where I am, pilloried, tried by an unethical local press, gloated over by those who are delighted to see what they think is the seamy side of my public stand for honesty and transparency.

I think divisions based on caste, creed, religion and gender, are ways in which we hide our fear of facing and living life truly and fully. But this is also where my 'dharma' tells me to continue being.

Mallika Sarabhai spoke to Swati Sucharita