Between Steel And Silence: The Many Lives Of Nazneen Banu

In a world where institutional silos rarely intersect, Ms. Nazneen Banu's journey offers a remarkable counter-narrative, one that defies the binaries of steel and silence, of discipline and imagination.

Born in the modest village of Olhanpur in Bihar's Siwan district, she rose to become not only one of the earliest women engineers in the Indian Defence Services but also, later, a major cultural voice at the helm of two of India's most revered modern art institutions. From laying the foundations of military infrastructure to curating the legacy of Nandalal Bose, her life arc is not merely unconventional, it is quietly subversive.

In a reflective conversation, Ashutosh Kumar Thakur spoke with Ms. Banu about the tremors and triumphs of her journey, spanning the corridors of IISc, the rigours of IDSE, and the luminous galleries of NGMA.

The Olhanpur Legacy

Q. You were born in the unassuming village of Olhanpur in Siwan, Bihar-a place distant from the institutions of modern science or the echoes of gallery halls. What memories of that early world remain closest to you, and how do they continue to shape your sense of purpose?

A. I carry some very fond memories of my village from my early childhood days; the simplicity of its people, minimalistic living, local dialect, old trees, the breeze, the earthy aroma of first rains, the haunted 'imli ka ped' , vast farmland, the river, the openness, the barrenness, mitti ka chullha, mud houses, thatched roofs, kal se jal (nal se jal came recently) glowing jugnus in my hands radiating ambient light of modern day urban homes, open sky , millions of stars, the laalten (Lantern), malai baraf (ice cream), chat ghat, Bitania biskut (Britania Biscuit), mela, the revered places of worship and interfaith harmony that I used to frequent with my grandmother etc. the list is endless and all of this remain so fresh in my memory till today. I can close my eyes and can still be part of all of this.
But as I grew older, the joy of childhood gave way to the harsh realities of social norms. From class 7 onwards, girls were confined indoors, and the village's rigid customs grew suffocating. School vacations meant being locked away from the outside world. It was in class 9 that I resolved to change my future, study hard, get into a professional college, and claim my freedom. That turning point launched a journey that led to engineering, IISc, and IES. The memories remain, both grounding and propelling me forward.

A Girl Among Equations

Q. What did it mean to be a girl excelling in science in rural Bihar at the turn of the century? Were you encouraged, challenged, or simply left alone to find your own way?

A. My father had a transferable job, so I studied mostly in KVs. After spending our early years in the village, my elder sister and I moved with him when it was time to start school. Still, we returned to our village every summer and winter without fail.

I distinctly remember my grandmother, truly ahead of her time, urging us to study hard and become financially independent. In contrast, my parents faced constant pressure from relatives to marry us off by the time I reached 10th grade. Being four sisters, people even suggested getting us married in pairs! There was genuine concern about whether we'd find "suitable" matches if we pursued higher education. So while we had some encouragement, it was really my parents who were caught in the middle, left alone to cross the uncertainties and what-ifs of raising ambitious daughters in a deeply traditional setting.

IISc, Bangalore: An Arrival or a Departure?

Q. When you stepped into the hallowed grounds of the Indian Institute of Science, among India's most rigorous scientific institutions, did it feel like a culmination or the start of something radically unknown?

A. It was certainly a grand arrival. One of the most defining moments and years of my life. I still find it hard to believe how I could make it to IISc given the fact that I represent the first generation of female graduates in our family. In my final year of Engineering most of my batchmates were either preparing for MBA or GRE (to pursue MS abroad). GRE was out of question for me given the financial limitations of my family so I thought of doing MBA and spoke to few of my college seniors who got admission in reputed IIM's that year but the exorbitant annual fee made me reassess the limitation of my dreams.

Our dreams sometimes are restricted by our financial standings so I thought it prudent to fill up the form for GATE which costed me only Rs 100/-. Given the fact that I was a distinction holder throughout my engineering days and used to get scholarship that took care of my annual fees etc. qualifying GATE was not very difficult. I remember appearing for this exam down with heavy fever and chickenpox. When I look back I feel God has been really kind and generous to me. And the Rs 5000/- monthly stipend in IISc seems lots of money that too tax free.

IDSE in 2002

Q. As the second woman to join IDSE in 2002, you entered a space that was structurally male dominated. Was your induction met with resistance, tokenism, or wary admiration? What kept you going through the silences and the noise?

A. Since I joined IDSE through UPSC at a respectable level with clear authority, there wasn't any overt resistance. Working within the disciplined, SOP-driven framework of the uniformed forces made the job streamlined, though it also meant limited public recognition.

Honestly, I never planned for a government job. After getting into IISc, the natural course seemed higher studies and going abroad. It was my father who insisted I write the IES exam-I filled the Rs 100 form, certain I wouldn't make it. But life had other plans. I secured an AIR 32 and got IDSE, my second choice ticked by a helpful senior from IISc who had cleared IES earlier.

I didn't know much about IDSE back then. Once allotted, I called Kashmir House (HQ MES) to request a posting in Bangalore, as my dissertation was pending and my younger siblings were studying there, putting financial pressure on my father. Thankfully, my request was accepted, and I joined Chief Engineer (Air Force) Bangalore on 12th Aug 2002, just across from IISc.

I still remember someone saying, "You are a rarest of the rare species in this Dept." Some even advised me to prepare for Civil Services, but I came from a humble background, and my only dream was a decent job and a professional identity. I had cleared UPSC, earned the IDSE suffix, and that felt empowering enough to aim for a brighter future.

Wearing the Uniform Without One:

Q. Your postings across Delhi Cantt, Bangalore, and Visakhapatnam spanned geographies, but perhaps more tellingly, they spanned mindsets. What were the unseen tensions of being a woman in these leadership roles? And how did you walk the delicate line between command and quiet resistance, the subtler battles that never quite make it to annual reports, yet shape the very soul of service?

A. After completing probation at CE (AF) Bangalore, my first independent posting came in Oct 2003 as AGE at GE (R&D), DRDO, CV Raman Nagar. I was taking over from an officer retiring after 30+ years of service, a striking contrast between his experience and my fresh beginnings. At that point, I was just the second woman in a 1000+ officer cadre, joining 13 years after the first woman had entered the service. Our presence was statistically negligible, and every move we made was under a microscope.

My then-boss, Shri Prabhas Kumar, a remarkable IDSE officer from Bihar, was genuinely concerned about a young woman handling such a sensitive sub-division supporting critical DRDO units like GTRE, ADE, and CABS. But the posting stood, and I took charge. That moment of transition, standing beside a seasoned officer handing over decades of institutional memory, symbolized the larger shifts unfolding in India's journey at the turn of the century.

Coming from a gender-skewed background in engineering, 5 girls in a class of 45, the only woman in my IISc department, I didn't feel out of place in IDSE. It was the others who had to adjust to my presence: body language, vocabulary, even habits. On a lighter note, my regular presence in office spaces helped speed up the enforcement of the No-Smoking policy.

In all my roles, GE, Jt. Director, Director, CWE, I have often been the first woman to hold the position. Even now, as CWE Tezpur, my name stands alone on the board as the first female officer since the post's creation in 1962. Over two decades, I've served across Army, Navy, Air Force, and DRDO, and I owe much of my growth to the diverse and rich exposure this department has given me.

The Woman in the Map Room:

Q. In your two-decade-long career, did you ever feel the weight of representing your gender rather than just being an officer? Did that responsibility ever become too exacting?

A. I vividly remember July 2008, when I was posted as Garrison Engineer (GE) in New Delhi, a rare sight at the time. People were simply not used to seeing a woman in that role. "GE Madam" was typically assumed to be the wife of the GE, not the officer herself. There were amusing mix-ups, calls where people mistook me for the GE's PS, or at events where I was assumed to be the "Mrs" in "Mr and Mrs Nazneen."

Eventually, I asked my staff to share my spouse's name so invitations would read "Nazneen and Feroz" instead.

Looking back, those moments bring a smile. But they also underscore the weight of representing something larger than oneself. I wasn't just a GE, I was a symbol of change. One memory that stays with me is of the late Lt Gen Gautam Dutt, then Engineer-in-Chief, a visionary leader. After seeing me successfully lead as GE in Delhi, he began posting female Army officers (Corps of Engineers) as Assistant Ges, a quiet but meaningful shift I am proud to have contributed to.

NGMA Bengaluru and Mumbai:

Q. From concrete to canvas, from blueprints to brushstrokes, your tenure at NGMA is nothing short of extraordinary. How did the structural clarity of engineering inform your engagement with curating India's modern visual legacy?

A. My technical background and years in the Defence Forces proved both a strength and a challenge during my tenure at NGMA. On one hand, the structured, policy-driven training in MES helped me streamline NGMA's functioning and put robust institutional systems in place. I was able to plan and execute long-pending infrastructure upgrades, state-of-the-art galleries, modern museum lighting, better air conditioning, renovated auditoriums and public conveniences, transformations that significantly improved the visitor experience and reversed negative public perceptions.

Yet, my mind, conditioned by years in a heavily guarded, SOP-bound defence environment, initially struggled to think laterally. My imagination felt boxed in by discipline. I had to consciously unlearn many patterns to make room for new ways of seeing and thinking. That deliberate unlearning eventually unlocked my creative instincts. Once that happened, I took to art curation like a fish to water.

I relished every part of the process, ideation, research, curation, display, and writing. My writing resonated with a wide, diverse audience because it came from a place of openness, authenticity, and renewal. I approached creativity with a neutral mind, and that made all the difference.

Amrit Mahotsav and the Music of Ricky Kej:

Q. The launch of NGMA's Amrit Mahotsav video anthem at Gateway of India was a moment of rare symbolism. Did it feel like a culmination of a dream, or just a chapter in an unfinished cultural project?

A. The launch of NGMA's Amrit Mahotsav video anthem by 3-time Grammy winner Ricky Kej at the Gateway of India, witnessed by over 5,000 people, stands as a defining moment in my career. As part of the Government of India's ambitious 'Mumbai Kaustubh' project, aligned with the PM's vision to revitalize cultural spaces, the event was a powerful celebration of art and heritage.

The overwhelming audience response and vibrant energy reaffirmed my trust in the cultural community. I'm deeply grateful to Joint Secretary Mugdha Sinha and former Cultural Secretary Govind Mohan for their trust and autonomy, which were key to this success. Ricky Kej's gracious live performance, fresh after his third Grammy, was truly exceptional and set this event apart.

The Power of Curation:

Q. From the Haripura Panels to the Air India Collection, you helped revive and recontextualize national treasures. What is your curatorial philosophy, more preservation, or reinterpretation?

A. My curatorial philosophy blends both preservation and reinterpretation, they go hand in hand. Preservation is foundational, but reinterpretation keeps heritage alive and relevant. Exhibitions like Maharaja's Treasure (Air India Collection) and the landmark showcase of over 70 Haripura Panels by Nandalal Bose exemplify this approach. These efforts took years but offered fresh perspectives while honouring the past.

Between the Frame and the Soil:

Q. India's folk and tribal art traditions, Madhubani, Warli, Pattachitra, have long existed outside the formal grammar of modern galleries. As someone who has bridged both the institutional space of NGMA and the lived ethos of rural India, do you believe our cultural establishments have truly learned to listen to these voices from the margins, or are we still framing them from a distance?

A. During my five-year tenure as Director of NGMA, I made a conscious effort to integrate folk, tribal, and indigenous art forms into the mainstream cultural narrative. We collaborated with state institutions, showcased artists like Padma Shri Upendra Maharathi, and even promoted traditional crafts like Bawan Buti sarees in our souvenir shop.

Government cultural bodies don't consciously exclude marginal voices-the real barrier lies in existing silos within the creative ecosystem. At NGMA, we worked to break those boundaries, as seen in inclusive exhibitions like Vishwakarma Textiles with NIFT Bengaluru. Our aim was always to harmonize and celebrate diverse artistic expressions.

Women in Uniformed Bureaucracy:

Q. Despite structural reforms, the Indian Defence Estates and Engineering services remain skewed. Why, in your view, do so few women enter this realm? And what must change, not in policy, but in perception?

A. Despite inclusive policies, the skewed gender ratio in services like IDSE stems from limited public visibility and outdated eligibility norms. With under 3% women representation in over 75 years, the core issue isn't policy, but perception. UPSC's focus on traditional engineering streams excludes many women who pursue IT-related fields. Alongside, defence-linked services maintain a low public profile, further masking women's contributions. Visibility and broader eligibility are key to change.

Solitude and Sisterhood:

Q. In your long journey, were there moments when you longed for female solidarity? Did you ever find it, in your seniors, peers, or juniors?

A. Yes, I did long for female solidarity, especially in my early years when I was often the lone woman in offices and meetings. It was only during my NGMA tenure that I finally found that bond-with fellow women officers and colleagues like Dr. Archana Sharma of BARC-relationships that have grown beyond the professional realm.

The Next Nazneen:

Q. If a young girl from Olhanpur, perhaps mirroring your own story, comes to you for advice on choosing a career in defence or public service, what would you tell her? Be pragmatic, or be defiant?

A. See times have changed now. Opportunities today are vast and varied. I'd tell her to work hard, stay focused, and trust in God's plan. Whether pragmatic or defiant, what truly sets you apart is your authenticity, character, and the moral courage to stand your ground.
Museums as Mirrors or Windows?

Q. In your evocative piece "In Search of Answers Through Museums", published in Outlook, you suggest that museums are not just repositories of the past, but active spaces of dialogue and introspection. When you wrote that essay, were you seeking answers as a curator, a citizen, or as a woman navigating multiple inheritances?

A. I wrote that piece to make sense of my roots. My time at NGMA and interactions with diverse creative minds prompted deep self-reflection. Sharing those lived experiences was personal-and to my delight, it resonated, even drawing praise from legends like Padma Bhushan Shri Gulam Mohammed Sheikh.

A Life, A Legacy:

Having charted a course few dared to map, from rural Bihar to NGMA's curated lights, how would you want to be remembered? As a builder of things, or a shaper of meanings?
I'd like time to tell that. Right now, I'm focused on carving an identity beyond titles, seeking meaning in what's been and what's to come. Slowly, past fragments are aligning like a puzzle, and I trust they'll reveal a fuller, truer picture in time.

Thank you so much for your time!