In a village in Agra district, Lakshmi's eyes open as soon as morning arrives. Along with the rising sun. First, tea for everyone, then filling water at the handpump, feeding fodder to the buffalo, washing the children's clothes, and cooking for the in-laws. Adjusting the dupatta on her head, she mentally recites the list of chores for the day: work in the fields, lunch, and another day exhausted by evening.

For Lakshmi, morning is not the beginning of dreams, but a queue of responsibilities. There were school books once, but after class 8, they weren't kept in the cupboard; they got buried under the dust of memories.

Read in Hindi: एक देश में एक सुबह की दो अलग-अलग तस्वीरें...

At the same time, in a small town near Chennai, Nagamma also wakes up. She's in a hurry, but not helpless. After bathing and adjusting her sari, she checks the bus time on her mobile, eats idlis made by her mother, and heads off to the shop. An assistant in a readymade clothing store. The salary isn't big, but it's her own. In the evening, she also does a small accounts course. Nagamma's morning has hard work, but also hope, the hope of moving forward.

These two women are not props for TV debates, nor references for political statements. Yet, hidden between these two mornings is the very gap that has recently set Indian politics on fire.

A statement given in a college in Chennai, and the entire country is restless. DMK MP Dayanidhi Maran's words, called "insulting", "divisive", "nation-breaking". TV studios are ablaze, political rhetoric at its peak. But behind the noise lies the bitter reality: India has been sweeping the condition of its women under the carpet for years. The method was harsh, but the mirror was held so close that the face became clearly visible. Numbers don't lie; women in the South are, on average, more educated, more employed, and a bit freer. Large parts of the North still lag. This is not a war between North and South. It is a question of history, policies, and political intent.

Female literacy has reached the national average of 75 per cent, but the regional gap is deep. In Kerala, it's 94 per cent, the result of years of reform campaigns and government investment. In Tamil Nadu, scholarships, free bicycles, and laptops have made education a right.

In Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, it's stuck between 55-63 per cent. Early marriage, household burden, safety concerns, lack of schools, girls drop out and run away from studies. The gender gap in education is narrower in the South, wider in the North. Mere coincidence? No, it's the result of mindset and politics.

Education opens the path to jobs. The South is ahead: factories in Tamil Nadu and Karnataka, the textile industry, health-education sectors. Tamil Nadu accounts for half of the country's female manufacturing workers. Creches, hostels, a safe environment, courage to step out of home.

Change has come in the North, too, through self-help groups. But mostly unorganised: without wages, without security. A struggle for survival, not empowerment. Age of marriage, children, going out, voice in the home, better in the South. In the North, early marriage, more children, and restrictions in the name of ‘honour’. Violence is silently justified. This is not an insult to the women of the North; their chains are heavier, their tools fewer. 

Regret: The debate has turned into political mudslinging. Meanwhile, India ranks 131st in gender equality, a shame for everyone. The question of apology is not for Maran, but for North India, from its own daughters.

The North needs rapid reform: investment in girls' education, strictness against child marriage, safe transport, women's employment, clear political messaging, and daughters are not just for the kitchen or lap. The South is not handing out certificates; it's showing a model. If the government stands up, society will change.

Until this happens, such statements will keep echoing. India should silence them not with slogans, but with action.