If I could trace my earliest memory of injustice (if I understood what it meant at that age), it would be growing up as a child being disappointed for being bullied because of my dark skin. As a South Asian, having various different shades of brown is quite common and what is prevalent is the notion of "fair" setting the standard for beauty. I was not upset because I was dark. I was upset because others felt they had the right to taunt me for having a dark skin. There was a time when I wanted to change my skin tone because I started believing that a girl needed that to be accepted. I used to laughed at by my family members, friends and of course, outsiders. This form of discrimination based on skin tone still exists. I believe it is part of the bigger racial politics that is ingrained in our subconscious mind. The impact of the Aryan settlement still dominates our thought-process, but that's a story for a different day.
As a child, I started questioning why I was not treated the same way and that somehow translated into questioning about the injustices women face in different spheres. When I visit my birthplace now, I still see the same discrimination even though people's attitude has changed a lot for the better. So, that's my mini-activist's story. This is how I started speaking up and this is how I started standing up for others.