the film poster (left) and final collective film (right) that incorporated the individual short films.  

exhibit flyer (left), video recap of the exhibit (middle), and a reflective poem concluding the exhibit (right)

Often the MHM information that is passed from mother to child is around what one cannot do. Do not go into the temple, don’t touch aachaar, ghee, or papad, don’t water the plants, don’t go near the temple, don’t touch men or elders as they will get “polluted,” don’t, don’t, don’t… the list goes on. In this still, we see Shivangi being scolded by her mother to move away from the temple and to not come in her vision during her period. When I later interviewed Shivangi, she explained that this admonishment made her question her self-worth as a woman. “Is it such a crime to walk past the creator who gave me this bodily function to begin with?” she asked.
These ideologies were found among both Hindu and Muslim women participating in the study. Muslim participants described not being able to read the Quran or visit the mosque during their period. Given that many of the participants were migrants from states like UP and Bihar, they described more rigid practices observed in their villages, such as sleeping outside the home for the first three days of menstruation and avoiding temple visits and water wells.
Conversely, Sharda, hailing from Karnataka, shares her community's tradition where a girl is celebrated upon reaching menarche, symbolized by dressing as a bride and receiving visits from relatives and family friends. While the intention behind this tradition is positive, Sharda recalls feeling embarrassed and objectified, likening herself to an exhibit in a zoo. She later explained to me that this practice likely originated from announce a girl’s eligibility for marriage to the community and potentially attract suitors.
Some filmmakers rationalize these traditions as rooted in care for menstruators, providing them with much-needed rest during menstruation when physical activity was expected. Additionally, the stigma surrounding menstruation as unclean may stem from historical practices of using cloth, which posed sanitary risks. Despite these traditions, filmmakers exercise agency by selectively adhering to or rejecting certain myths. While many touch foods like aachaar, ghee, and papad, they avoid temple visits out of fear of repercussions.

Predominantly, participants relied on community toilets, which varied in proximity from closest in Dharavi to farthest in Kalwa. The use of these facilities was universally disliked due to their unkempt conditions, lack of lighting and water facilities, and rampant pad disposal issues. Many filmmakers showcased the lengths they went to find cleaner bathrooms, sometimes walking up to 15-20 minutes, navigating between the urgency to use the facilities and the cleanliness they offered. In th scene, Muskaan T. highlights a preferred cleaner toilet where she disposes of her pads, noting its daytime use due to safety concerns walking such distances at night. However, she, like many others, experiences discomfort and holds back urges to use the facilities at night due to the presence of men lingering around women's bathrooms. Shivangi shares a similar harrowing experience when a male intruded into the women's bathroom at night, leaving her silently waiting until he left.
Pad disposal practices commonly involve finding a secluded corner in the bathroom or tossing pads out of windows into garbage heaps outside, as most bathrooms lack proper disposal systems. Even those with toilets at home opt for community toilets due to restrictions on pad disposal within their households. Most filmmakers wrap their pads in black plastic bags and discard them in garbage dumps.
Despite these challenges, a few toilets have implemented disposal systems. Some have bins placed in common areas, although they are often underutilized due to feelings of shame associated with pad disposal in public. Pooja, a former BMC worker, mentions a sanitation vending machine installed by BMC in Kandivali, offering pads for a nominal fee and featuring an incinerator for disposal. Despite BMC's efforts, the machine sees limited use as women are uncomfortable being seen with pads in public. As a response to these challenges, one filmmaker, Anjali, documents an ideal disposal scenario. She films herself walking to a designated garbage bin labeled "Throw pads here," conveniently positioned next to the general garbage bin for ease of access.

It is no surprise that the vast majority of participants use pads, owing to widespread hygiene interventions available to them. This emphases on hygiene, while very effective in increasing product uptake, has only reiterated the idea that the period is dirty and shameful. These concepts manifest during the interviews I conducted with the filmmakers post film production. They could each explicitly tell me their in-depth hygiene practices, some of which even included washing pads washing pads after usage because “no one should see menstrual blood.” However, when asked about why periods occur or some basic female reproductive anatomy, most had no answer or an oft-incorrect one, if that. I believe this finding reveals the greater need for more in-depth MHM interventions that are not solely focused on pad distribution or teaching hygiene practices. In reality, this reiterates the notion that one’s period is dirty and needs to be managed. Perhaps, we are forgetting one simple fact: periods are foundational to life. 
Notably, product choice emerged as a form of resistance within a patriarchal framework. In this still from the film, Mansi Verma goes to the chemist in Kalwa, asking for pads. He asks to wrap it or place it in a bag, to which she denies. He asks again, but she remains firm in her stance. The next scene depicts Mansi walking back to her house with Whisper pads out in the open. When I asked Mansi about this further in our one-on-one interview, Mansi affirmed that while she does get stares, she hopes that it’ll change at least some minds. Additionally, out of the 25 filmmakers, 1 used a menstrual cup and 1 used a tampon. While the others’ expressed curiosity in these products, they felt scared and ashamed in using these at home. Some discussed these with their mothers, but were met with disdain, as these products involve vaginal insertion, making their daughter, a virgin, “impure.” Hence, when I interview the woman who uses a menstrual cup, she explained that her choice in product makes her feel like “aaj ki aurat,” someone who is unshackled from the bondages of purity and morality that govern a women’s sphere.  

Conversations about menstruation with men varied depending on whether they occurred within the family or in external settings. Most filmmakers expressed reluctance to discuss periods with male family members, except for their husbands, opting instead to broach these topics with male friends.
Despite this hesitancy, several filmmakers felt empowered to interview men about their knowledge and attitudes towards menstruation. In this still, Dhanashree interviewed Aditya, who candidly shares his curiosity about what girls discussed separately in school. Aditya’s journey of seeking information online and volunteering with SNEHA to distribute pads during the COVID-19 pandemic exemplifies his commitment to challenging societal norms and fostering positive change, despite facing criticism from the community.
While Aditya represents a positive example, other men held contrasting views. Some claimed to possess extensive knowledge about menstruation but struggled to provide accurate answers upon further questioning, while others expressed disinterest in learning about periods altogether.
Nevertheless, it is commendable that many of my filmmakers felt comfortable engaging with men in their circles to begin with. This shift reflects changing societal attitudes, and this film serves as a testament to that evolution.

dharavi

- Prime access to information, technology, and urban events due to its central location
- MHM interventions receive substantial funding 
- Most streamlined waste disposal system
- Nearest toilet within 2-3 minute walking distance
- Men hold the most positive menstrual attitudes and strongest menstrual knowledge compared to other slums 

kandivali

- Decreased access to the city center
- Slum with less recognition, so receives less funding 
- Less streamlined waste disposal system
- Nearest toilet within 3-5 minutes walking distance
- Men hold mixed menstrual attitudes and low levels of menstrual knowledge 

kalwa

- Situated in the foothills of a mountain, making it isolated from the city.
- Significant gaps in MHM funding
- Waste disposal practices are rudimentary, with waste often discarded into streams/lakes, locally referred to as “kaala pani”
- Nearest toilet facility is a 5-10 minute walk away
- During interviews, men expressed discomfort discussing menstruation, exhibiting the least knowledge and most negative attitudes