
The Karnataka government’s recent decision to grant one paid day of menstrual leave every month (12 days a year) to women employees across both public and private sectors marks a watershed in India’s labour landscape. For the first time, a state has formally recognised menstrual health as a legitimate workplace concern rather than a private inconvenience. The move has drawn applause from gender advocates, public health experts, and many working women who see it as an overdue acknowledgement of a biological reality that often goes unspoken.
While the move marks an important recognition of menstrual health, its real success will depend on how inclusively it is implemented. The state now has a chance to go further by framing the policy as part of a broader effort to build equitable and gender-sensitive workplaces.
Karnataka’s approach stands out in its ambition. Other Indian states have made smaller moves; Bihar offers two days of menstrual leave a month for government employees, and a few Kerala universities have similar provisions for students and staff, but these remain confined to the public sector. Karnataka has gone further, extending its mandate to private industry, information technology, and manufacturing sectors.
In a country where menstruation is still cloaked in silence, this legislation breaks new ground by legitimising menstrual health in law. It acknowledges that productivity and well-being are not incompatible and that humane workplaces must adapt to the diversity of human bodies. For that recognition alone, Karnataka deserves credit.
At its heart, the policy attempts to dismantle stigma. It says, in effect, that women should not have to suffer silently or mask discomfort for fear of appearing weak. Institutionalising menstrual leave could make conversations about pain, fatigue, and hormonal cycles more normal in professional settings. That represents genuine cultural progress.
But translating that intent into fair practice requires more nuance than the law currently offers. Some employers, particularly in the competitive private sector, may perceive menstrual leave as an added cost, reinforcing gender bias in hiring or promotion.
To prevent this, the policy should be paired with clear anti-discrimination clauses in labour laws and incentives for gender-inclusive workplaces, such as recognition or tax benefits for companies that adopt equitable wellness policies, so that menstrual leave is seen as a progressive health measure, not a hiring burden.
Rigid design, real-world gaps
Another problem lies in the rigidity of the provision. A uniform “one day per month” leave may not reflect biological reality. Menstrual symptoms vary widely; some individuals experience mild discomfort, while others experience debilitating pain that lasts several days. Cycles may also be irregular. A fixed entitlement could lead to a situation where leave is unused when not needed and inadequate when symptoms are severe.
Then there is the issue of privacy. If implementation requires proof, such as medical certificates or disclosure to supervisors, it risks intruding into intimate health matters. The stigma the policy aims to break could, ironically, intensify if women must justify their pain. Many might prefer to endure silently rather than face scrutiny or gossip. Without explicit safeguards for confidentiality and non-discrimination, the law could produce more anxiety than relief.
Perhaps the greatest blind spot lies in its reach. The policy’s promise of universality covering “all sectors” may falter in practice. The state’s workforce is heavily concentrated in informal employment: garment workers, domestic help, construction labourers, and agricultural workers. These are precisely the women least likely to benefit.
Enforcement in unorganised sectors is already weak, and most small employers operate outside formal labour regulation. Without strong mechanisms for monitoring, awareness, and compliance, menstrual leave may remain a privilege of the salaried middle class while bypassing those who face harsher conditions and greater need.
Need for structural change
Global experience shows that symbolic policies alone seldom create lasting change. For instance, Spain’s landmark 2023 menstrual leave law, the first of its kind in Europe, has seen limited uptake, with surveys suggesting that fear of stigma and potential career penalties deter many women from using it. Japan, which introduced menstrual leave as early as 1947, has witnessed a steady decline in its use, as workplaces continue to view menstruation as a sign of weakness.
In contrast, some smaller initiatives offer useful lessons. In Kenya and Nepal, a workplace pilot across private-sector firms combined menstrual leave with improved sanitation facilities, access to products, and awareness sessions, leading to higher comfort, reduced stigma, and better job satisfaction among women employees.
The Victorian Women’s Trust in Australia introduced a flexible menstrual policy allowing staff to work from home or take paid leave when needed, demonstrating how autonomy and privacy can make such policies genuinely empowering. These examples underline that menstrual leave is most effective when coupled with supportive infrastructure, confidential implementation, and organisational culture change rather than enacted as a symbolic policy alone.
To avoid that fate, the state must treat its menstrual leave policy not as a stand-alone benefit but as part of a broader effort to make workplaces humane and equitable. That means rethinking language, flexibility, and inclusion.
First, flexibility is key. Instead of mandating one day per month, the law should create a yearly leave bank, say, 12 or 15 days, to be used as needed. This would accommodate variation in cycles and symptoms, allow clustering of days during severe months, and preserve autonomy over when to take leave.
Second, privacy must be protected. Employers should be prohibited from seeking medical certificates or specific disclosure unless voluntarily offered. Menstrual leave should be treated like any other sick leave: trust-based, confidential, and free from stigma.
Finally, infrastructure and culture must align with policy. Menstrual leave cannot substitute for safe, clean washrooms, access to sanitary products, rest areas, and flexible hours. Workplaces should also consider broader “wellness leave” models that allow any employee, regardless of gender, to take time off for physical or mental health needs. Normalising rest and care for all reduces resentment and prevents women from being singled out as exceptions.
If Karnataka wants to lead by example, it must extend protections to those outside the formal economy. This requires creativity in design rather than mere expansion of mandates. For small or informal enterprises, the state could provide incentives or reimbursements to offset paid leave costs, preventing employers from pushing women into casual or contract roles.
For gig platforms, menstrual leave should be built into algorithmic scheduling and pay structures, just as accident or health coverage is. Partnerships with local governments and women’s cooperatives could help reach home-based, agricultural, and domestic workers who otherwise fall through the cracks.
The measure of success should not be how many headlines the law earns but how many invisible workers actually use it without fear or stigma.
The next challenge is enforcement. Progressive labour rights are only as effective as their oversight. The state could mandate annual reporting by medium and large employers, anonymised data on uptake, refusals, and grievances, and publish periodic state-level reviews. A dedicated grievance redress system within the Labour Department or the State Women’s Commission could ensure that complaints are investigated swiftly.
The law should also include anti-retaliation clauses, protecting workers from subtle penalties such as exclusion from promotions or assignments. Transparency is vital: public reporting builds trust, while secrecy breeds misuse.
Toward a culture of care
For the menstrual leave law to realise its potential, it must be seen not as a favour to women but as an assertion of rights. Menstrual health is a matter of workplace dignity, just as much as occupational safety or maternity protection. Yet the larger goal should be to cultivate a culture of care, where all employees, regardless of gender, can take time off for health needs without stigma or penalty.
In that sense, menstrual leave could be the gateway to something larger: a recognition that productivity should not come at the cost of pain and that empathy is not inefficiency. True equality lies not in treating everyone identically but in ensuring everyone can work with dignity.
The policy signals political courage and empathy in a policy space where both are rare. But progress must not be measured by novelty alone. A law that seeks to empower must also avoid reinforcing the hierarchies it wants to dismantle. If the policy is revised with a flexible structure, strong enforcement, and sensitivity to the informal workforce, Karnataka could pioneer a model worthy of national emulation.
The ultimate test of progress is not who gets mentioned in the statute but who feels seen by it. What happens next will decide whether it remains a symbolic gesture or becomes a true step toward equality, inclusion, and dignity at work.
Swetavalli Raghavan is Adviser on AMR to the Government of Karnataka and Professor of Practice, St Joseph’s University, Bengaluru. Views expressed here are the author’s own.