# Where courage takes you

**Source**: https://ge.iitm.ac.in/rendezvous/where-courage-takes-you/
**Parent**: https://ge.iitm.ac.in/rendezvous/page/3/

An IIT-M
student
from
Afghanistan
has come
a long
way
pursuing
her
passion
for
Higher
Education
amidst
intense
political
situations
in her
country,
showing
remarkable
resilience
and
courage.
This is
the
story of
Behishta
Khairuddin

**Srivatsan
S**

When
Behishta
Khairuddin
received
the ICCR
(Indian
Council
for
Cultural
Relations)
scholarship
to
pursue
her
Master’s
degree
at any
university
in
India,
she
couldn’t
help but
feel
optimistic
about
what’s
to come.
After
all, she
had been
waiting
for it
for
almost a
year.
All that
effort —
including
moving
from her
hometown
in
Jowzjan
to
Kabul,
the
capital
city of
Afghanistan,
to
prepare
for the
TOEFL
(Test of
English
as a
Foreign
Language)
exam to
apply
for
scholarships
— was
finally
paying
off.

She read
up on
the best
universities
in
India,
shortlisting
five of
the IITs
and
getting
an
invite
from
three
including
IIT
Roorkee,
Bombay
and
Madras;
she was
selected
by the
latter
two.
Behishta
picked
IIT
Madras
thanks
to the
NIRF
(National
Institutional
Ranking
Framework)
rankings:
as of
2022,
IIT-M
topped
the NIRF
rankings
for the
fourth
time in
a row in
the
overall
category,
and the
seventh
consecutive
year for
the
‘Engineering’
category.

There
were
personal
reasons
too. Her
eldest
sister,
Pohanmal
Masoda
Khairzada,
who is
currently
a
faculty
with the
Chemical
Engineering
Department
at the
Jowzjan
University,
was
pursuing
her PhD
at
IIT-M.
Impressed
by the
quality
of
education
and lab
facilities,
her
sister
suggested
that she
give the
institute
a shot.
Behishta
hasn’t
travelled
anywhere
alone,
let
alone
going to
another
country.
Luckily,
she had
Khairzada
for
company
if she
got a
callback
from
IIT-M,
which
she did
eventually.
The
sisters
thought
they
could
stay
together
on
campus.

As
Behishta’s
personal
goals
were
coming
to
fruition,
her
country
was on
the
brink of
a larger
political
development:
the
Taliban,
after
being
out of
power
for two
decades
by a
US-led
military
intervention,
was on
rapid
rise,
taking
control
of
provinces
one
after
the
other.
The
Taliban
took
control
of
Afghanistan
in
August
2021;
IIT-M’s
odd
semester
began
around
the same
time.
There
was
uncertainty
and
chaos.

The
situation
was grim
and
emotions
ran
high;
thousands
of
people
tried
fleeing
the
country
by
whatever
means
they
could.
And
those
who
stayed
back did
not have
it easy
either.
For
Behishta,
it was a
rude
shock to
discover
that she
lost out
on the
ICCR
scholarship,
after
the
Indian
Government
invalidated
visas
for
Afghan
nationals
as a
result
of the
Taliban
suspending
international
flights
since
its
takeover.
The
ICCR,
which
gave
scholarships
to over
650
Afghan
students
for the
2021-2022
academic
year,
requested
the
Indian
Government
to find
a way to
bring
these
students
to
India.
Hope was
not
lost.

The
IIT-M
reached
out to
Behishta
through
its
Office
of
Global
Engagement,
which is
responsible
for any
international
collaboration-relation
that
happens
within
and
outside
the
institution.
A
scholarship
was
worked
out and
a month
later,
as her
classmates
turned
up for
classes,
Behishta
joined
them —
albeit
remotely,
from
home, in
Afghanistan.
She is
currently
doing
her
M.Tech
in
Chemical
Engineering.

Her
sister,
Khairzada,
who
managed
to
complete
the
first
semester
of her
PhD on
campus
in 2020,
was left
with no
other
option
but to
return
to her
country
in the
wake of
the
pandemic.
Since
then,
she
hasn’t
been
able to
come
back.
She has
completed
her
coursework,
but the
research
still
remains
a
question
as the
World
Bank,
which
was
supporting
her
through
funding,
had put
a
pause.

**Home
is
where
the
heart
is**

Behishta’s
strength
comes
from her
largely
educated
family:
her
mother
is a
Doctor
who
works in
a clinic
supported
by an
NGO, and
her
father,
a Social
Science
graduate,
also
works in
an NGO.
She has
four
sisters
and two
brothers,
all of
whom are
either
pursuing
higher
studies
or are
working
professionals.
Her
second
eldest
sister
is a
graduate
in law;
third
eldest
sister
is an
engineering
graduate;
younger
sister
is
currently
studying
medicine
and
younger
brother
is
pursuing
engineering.
They all
live
together
as one
family.

When
Behishta
told her
parents
that she
got an
admission
with a
scholarship,
they did
not know
much
about
IIT-M or
NIRF
rankings.
They
just had
one
thing to
say: “We
are
proud of
you. If
you need
anything,
we are
here for
you.”

Behishta
was
lagging
a month
behind
the rest
when she
started
the
course.
Doing a
Master’s
degree
remotely
comes
with its
own
share of
challenges.
“The
Internet
quality
was not
good in
the
initial
few
months
and my
camera
would
freeze
invariably,”
recalls
Behishta,
over a
video
call
from
Afghanistan.
“When
the live
sessions
were
over, I
would go
through
recordings
and try
to
understand
the
parts I
may have
missed,”
she
adds.

This was
the
routine
she
followed
for
about
two
semesters.
She
slept
scarcely
for
about
four-five
hours a
day;
when she
did not
have
classes,
she was
on
YouTube
searching
for
videos
related
to her
course,
apart
from
referring
to
research
papers
and
books.

There is
a stark
difference
in the
quality
of
education
between
the two
countries,
feels
Behishta.
“When I
compare
my
two-year
programme
[at
IIT-M]
with my
B.Tech
degree,
it’s
totally
different
from the
education
I got
here. It
felt
like I
was
learning
something
of high
standard.
I want
to bring
that
high
standard
to my
country,”
she
says.

Sitting
in the
room
armed
with a
laptop,
a
smartphone
and a
couple
of
books,
Behishta
sailed
through
two
semesters
with a
CGPA
(Cumulative
Grade
Point
Average)
of 8.35
out of
10. She
had to
stick to
the
process
for one
more
year.

Just
when the
third
semester
was
about to
begin,
the
Taliban
slapped
an
indefinite
ban on
university
education
for
women.
Scores
of women
and
activists
took to
the
streets
to
protest
the ban.
There
was
uncertainty
and
chaos.
Yet
again.
According
to a
report
in the
Time
magazine,
before
the
Taliban
came to
power,
“over
20,000
students
at Kabul
University,
the
country’s
oldest
university,
were
female.”

**Almost
there**

At home,
it took
a toll
on
Behishta.
“It’s
[political
events]
not
something
we would
like to
talk
about.
But at
the same
time,
it’s
something
we don’t
want to
hide
either,”
she
says,
adding,
“Things
[Taliban’s
ban]
made it
worse
for us.
There is
still a
lot of
uncertainty
[about
the ban
and when
it will
be
lifted].
Hopefully
things
might
change
in
spring.”

Taliban’s
takeover
resulted
in bad
economic
conditions
at home.
“Three
of my
sisters
who were
working
in NGOs
were
left
with no
salary…only
my
parents
were
working
and were
getting
paid.”

According
to
several
media
reports,
scores
of women
reportedly
have
taken
remote
education,
which
seems to
be the
only
solution
to
women’s
education
in
Afghanistan.
“As far
as I
know,
lots of
students
continued
their
studies
online
but
there
are so
many who
had to
discontinue
their
studies
because
of visa
issues,”
she
says,
adding
that her
CGPA for
three
semesters
stands
at
8.83.

Behishta
says
that
being
physically
present
on
campus
might
have
made it
easier
for her.
But she
has no
regrets
— “I
learnt a
lot from
this
experience,”
she
smiles.
Anything
she
missed
the
most?
“Oh yes,
the
laboratories.”

For her
final
year
project,
Behishta
selected
emulsion
fuels.
It was
an
experimental
project,
which
she had
to
change
owing to
lack of
resources.
She
switched
to
‘water
absorption
by food
grains
using
image
processing
tools’
at the
suggestion
of Prof
Basavaraja
Madivala
Gurappa
(Basa).
“We
discussed
this
project,
which
can be
done
remotely
with the
availability
of image
processing
tools.
The idea
is: you
take
these
food
grains,
soak
them in
water,
and
observe
and
study
the
grains
that can
be
captured
easily
on a
phone or
camera.
She can
do some
image
analysis
to
quantify
it. For
instance,
she can
measure
the
length
and
diameter,
and how
they
change
with
time,”
he adds.

Behishta,
in fact,
even set
up a
small
lab at
home by
borrowing
an oven
from one
of her
sisters,
a
weighing
machine
from a
jewellery
shop,
some
bakery
items,
and a
few lab
materials
from her
previous
university.

Prof
Basa
speaks
highly
of her
commitment.
“For
someone
who is
in a
situation
like
this, it
is very
easy to
lose
focus.
It is
very
easy to
say,
“Hey,
look,
there is
only so
much
happening,
so why
should I
even
care?”
But I
think
she’s
very
brave.
She is
able to
take up
the
challenge,”
he says.

Behishta
will
complete
her
course
at
the
end
of
July.
She
will
probably
be
among
the
first
women
from
Afghanistan
to
earn
a
degree
through
remote
education,
which
currently
seems
to
be
the
only
option
for
Afghan
women
ever
since
the
Taliban
put
an
indefinite
ban
on
higher
education.
Getting
the
degree
wearing
graduation
gowns
and
hats
during
the
convocation
at
IIT-M
is
a
matter
of
great
pride
and
prestige
for
outgoing
students
every
year.
This
has
been
the
sentiment
in
the
institution
ever
since
its
establishment
in
1959,
except
in
2020,
when,
for
the
first
time
in
the
history
of
IIT-M,
the
convocation
went
online
due
to
the
raging
pandemic,
and
the
degrees
and
awards
were
handed
over
to
students
virtually.

This
year
marks
the
60th
Convocation
Day.
“Of
course,
I
would
like
to
be
there,”
says
Behishta
excitedly.
She
says
she
would
like
to
do
a
PhD
under
her
Macromolecules
course
instructor,
Prof
Susy
Varughese,
if
she
gets
a
visa
to
India.
“In
my
country,
getting
a
government
job
is
quite
difficult
and
takes
a
lot
of
time.
But
what
I
saw
at
IIT-M
is,
during
the
third
semester
itself
students
were
getting
offers
from
companies.
It
means
that
talent
has
value.
That
if
you
are
talented
in
India,
you
will
get
a
job.
But
here,
it’s
not
like
that.”

Behishta’s
journey
the
last
two
years
pursuing
her
love
for
higher
education
amidst
the
intense
political
situation
in
Afghanistan,
despite
the
public
threat
issued
by
the
Taliban
for
women’s
education,
displays
courage
and
at
best,
offers
a
glimmer
of
hope
—
for
a
better
tomorrow.

Talented
women,
like
herself,
are
the
need
of
the
hour
to
rebuild
the
fractured
education
system
of
Afghanistan.
“Because
India
doesn’t
need
me;
it
has
lots
of
knowledgeable
people.
My
country
needs
me.
If
I
can
serve
my
country,
then
that’s
how
I
want
to
put
my
talent
to
use
[and
to
solve
industry
problems].”

She
catches
a
moment
to
correct
that
statement
—
and
sentiment:
“There
are
lots
of
people
who
can
die
for
their
country
but
I
want
them
who
live
for
their
country.
This
is
how
we
can
serve
our
country
and
build
it.
I
want
people
to
live.
I
want
to
live
for
my
country.”

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