Global applause, local slurs: The uneasy reality for Northeast women

In the same week that the world stood up to applaud two women from the Northeast, a neighbour in the national capital chose to reach for slurs. The contrast is as stark as it is unsettling.

On February 22, Lakshmipriya Devi of Manipur walked onto the stage of the Royal Festival Hall in London to accept a BAFTA for Best Children’s and Family Film.

Her debut feature Boong, set in conflict-affected Manipur, became the first Indian film to win in that category at the BAFTA Awards. It was a moment of quiet pride for the region, and for the country.

In her speech, she spoke of Manipur as troubled, ignored and underrepresented. She dedicated the honour to her homeland and to children displaced by violence.

It was not just an acceptance speech. It was a reminder that stories from the margins of the map are no longer waiting for permission to be told.

Days earlier, in Malviya Nagar in New Delhi, three young women from Arunachal Pradesh were at a police station, recounting the abuse they say they faced from a neighbour.

The dispute reportedly began over dust from an air-conditioner installation. It escalated into racial and sexualised remarks. They were allegedly told to “go sell momos” and called “dhandhewali”, a word used to imply sex work.

An FIR has been registered under provisions of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita. But for many in the Northeast, the legal process is only one part of a familiar pattern.

This is not an isolated episode. Women from the region have long spoken of being reduced to stereotypes about their appearance, their food, their supposed morality.

They are exoticised and demeaned in the same breath. In cities far from home, they are asked if they are “Indian”, told they look “foreign”, or subjected to comments that strip them of dignity.

And yet, even as this prejudice persists, women from the Northeast continue to carry India’s name to global platforms.

Rime Das with the cast of 'Not A Hero'. (Photo:X)

At the 76th Berlin International Film Festival, Rima Das received a Crystal Bear Special Mention for her film Not a Hero.

Over the years, she has quietly built a body of work that places Assamese landscapes and lives at the centre of world cinema conversations. Her journey, like Devi’s, has been marked by persistence rather than spectacle.

These are not token successes. They are part of a wider, steady assertion of presence.

From sport to civil services, from entrepreneurship to the arts, women from the Northeast have repeatedly broken barriers.

They train on modest grounds, study under uncertain conditions, build careers far from the glare of metropolitan privilege. When they win, they do so not as symbols, but as professionals who have earned their place.

What makes this week particularly telling is the simultaneity of pride and prejudice.

On international stages, stories rooted in Manipur and Assam are treated with seriousness and empathy. Audiences who may never have visited the region respond to its complexities with openness. Abroad, the Northeast is not an afterthought. It is a source of powerful narratives.

Within India, however, ignorance still lingers in everyday interactions. The abuse in a Delhi housing complex was not delivered in a vacuum. It drew upon tired tropes that have circulated for decades. It reflected a failure to recognise fellow citizens as equals.

There is an uncomfortable truth in this. Recognition from abroad often arrives sooner than acceptance at home.

Almost every family in Assam and the wider region knows someone who has moved to Delhi, Bengaluru or Mumbai for study or work. Many carry stories of achievement. Some carry stories of humiliation. Often, they carry both.

The question is not whether the Northeast can produce excellence. That has been answered time and again. The question is whether the rest of the country is willing to confront the prejudices that trail behind that excellence.

Cinema cannot by itself dismantle racism. Awards cannot automatically change attitudes in apartment corridors. But representation matters. Each global accolade chips away at the notion that the Northeast is peripheral or lesser. Each success complicates the stereotype.

At the same time, the country must reckon with the everyday indignities that its citizens continue to face because of how they look or where they come from. Laws are necessary. So is public conversation.

So, is education that treats the Northeast not as a footnote in textbooks, but as an integral part of the national story.

The honours in London and Berlin do not erase the sting of slurs in Malviya Nagar. But they do underline a reality that prejudice cannot contain talent.

Northeast women are not waiting for validation. They are making films, clearing examinations, winning medals, and building institutions.

They are representing India on stages where excellence is the only currency that counts. The country would do well to match that excellence with respect at home.