Menstruation is no longer treated as a “women’s issue” but as a question of dignity, public health, and constitutional obligation.
By linking implementation failures to possible contempt proceedings, the Court turns advisory policies into enforceable duties.
Persistent gaps by income, education, and geography show that budgets, infrastructure, and social attitudes will determine whether this ruling delivers real change
In a landmark ruling, the Supreme Court has recognised menstrual hygiene as a fundamental right under Article 21, reframing it as a matter of dignity rather than discretion. By bringing menstruation out of the private, apologetic domain of “women’s issues” and into the public sphere of state responsibility, the Court has shifted both the constitutional and policy lens: what the law acknowledges, the state must act upon.
For too long, menstrual health in India has been treated as a marginal welfare concern—addressed through scattered schemes, uneven budgets, and sporadic awareness drives. More broadly, women’s health has been approached in silos, with nutrition in one corner and maternal care in another, without recognising that menstruation is deeply entwined with nutrition, mental health, education, and economic participation. The Court has unsettled this complacency. Menstruation is now framed not as an embarrassment to be concealed, but as a matter of public discourse and rights.
The scale of the problem explains why this shift was necessary. National Family Health Survey (NFHS) data shows clear progress: the share of women aged 15–24 using hygienic menstrual methods rose from 57.6 per cent in NFHS-4 (2015–16) to 77.3 per cent in NFHS-5 (2019–21). Yet this still leaves roughly one in four young women without adequate support, disproportionately among the poorest, rural, and tribal groups who face both material deprivation and social stigma.
Menstrual poverty reflects a stark collision between biology and affordability. Sanitary napkins can cost a day’s wage, while social taboos force women to ration products, rely on cloth, or withdraw from school and work. These pressures are compounded by poor sanitation, unreliable water, unsafe disposal, and enduring stigma.
Against this backdrop, the intervention of the Supreme Court of India is significant in three ways. It recognises menstruation as an issue of dignity; it directs governments to ensure access to hygienic products, safe disposal, and menstrual education in public institutions; and by warning that failure to implement the Centre’s Menstrual Hygiene Policy for School-Going Girls could attract contempt proceedings, it transforms an advisory policy into a matter of accountability.
Yet a court can mandate infrastructure; it cannot mandate attitudes. National gains in menstrual hygiene conceal stories of stark inequalities. NFHS-5 shows that while 77% of women reported using hygienic products in 2019–21, usage falls to 53% among the poorest households, 62% among women with no formal education, and 75% in rural areas—revealing how access is still shaped by income, education, and location. These gaps reflect not just supply constraints but entrenched social hierarchies and stigma rooted in ritual, caste, and patriarchy. Legal recognition is essential, but cultural change—through schools, media, and sustained public campaigns—will ultimately determine the ruling’s impact.
The judgment’s deeper significance lies beyond menstruation itself. It unsettles India’s fragmented approach to women’s health, nudging the state toward a more holistic understanding of bodily autonomy and gender equality. Better menstrual infrastructure could reduce school dropouts, stabilise women’s workforce participation, and weaken “pollution” myths that perpetuate shame and nutritional neglect.
The Way Forward
What happens next will decide whether this ruling remains symbolic or delivers structural change.
First, budgetary visibility: menstrual hygiene must be clearly reflected in Union and State budgets, with predictable funding for products, water, toilets, and disposal, rather than fragmented across schemes.
Second, sustainable access: alongside targeted free distribution of disposables, governments should promote safe reusable options—such as menstrual cups and washable cloth pads—to reduce environmental waste and recurring household costs.
Third, functional infrastructure: schools and public institutions must have toilets with water, vending machines, and safe disposal systems. Intent without infrastructure is an empty promise.
Fourth, inclusive education: boys must be informed participants, not silent bystanders. Community programmes and the media should treat menstruation as routine public health.
The Supreme Court of India has set a constitutional standard. The harder task now is administrative follow-through and social change. Menstrual dignity is no longer only a moral claim; it is a legal one. Whether it becomes a lived reality will depend on budgets, institutions, and a willingness to confront stigma directly.
A crack in the wall is not its dismantling. But it is where the work begins—because our daughters deserve dignity, not stigma.
Surabhi Singh is a Research Associate and Dr Richa Kothari is an Associate Fellow at the Pahle India Foundation. The views expressed are personal.
