Annie Banerji

To go back home in eastern India, cast his vote and spend time with his wife and three children would be ideal, said Shafiq Ansari, but he cannot afford to lose wages and so has to keep toiling under the sweltering summer sun near New Delhi.

Ansari is far from alone. Many millions of migrant workers across India face a similar dilemma as voting takes place in the world's biggest election, with nearly 1 billion people eligible to vote until June 1. Results are due by June 4, with Prime Minister Narendra Modi predicted to win a rare third term.

India's two main parties are pledging to improve life for LGBTQ+ people if they win a general election that starts on Friday, but campaigners say they are paying lip service to gay and trans rights by dodging the key issue of same-sex marriage.

Despite progress on LGBTQ+ rights, same-sex relations remain taboo in India and many LGBTQ+ people hide their identity for fear of discrimination. Last year, the Supreme Court declined to legalise gay marriage in a major setback to equality gains.

In Sumit Bhanwala's village in northern India, pictures of the Statue of Liberty adorn facades and tractors display stars and stripes bumper stickers - a way to let neighbours know that sons, brothers and nephews have made it to the United States.

For 25-year-old Bhanwala, the images are a source of inspiration as he prepares for an arduous, months-long journey to sneak across the U.S. border - an odyssey that will cost his family tens of thousands of dollars in fees to people smugglers.

Hobbling out of a tuk-tuk, Pooja Gupta joined fellow community health workers as they punched their fists in the air and chanted slogans against authorities in India who, they say, pay poorly despite giving them more and more work to do.

Like Gupta, tens of thousands of female health workers across South Asia are demanding basic rights and social protections that are currently denied to them such as the minimum wage, sick leave, maternity benefits and pensions.

A new law reserving 33% of seats for women in India's parliament will likely lead to more female-friendly policies on jobs, health and education, lawmakers and campaigners said, pointing to village councils which have had the quota for 30 years.

Lawmakers in India's upper house of parliament on Thursday passed the landmark bill a day after it was approved by the lower house. Six attempts to clear the bill had failed since it was first introduced in 1996.

Pinky Negi, an Indian teacher with two master's degrees, loved her old job at a public school in the Himalayan foothills. But then she did what millions of Indian women do every year - gave up her career when she got married and had children.

"The idea of not earning pinches me the most when I have to ask for the smallest of things," said Negi, who briefly tried home tutoring before the birth of her second child led her to give up work altogether.

Cooped up at home, Pari Sediqi spends her days worrying how she will feed her sick husband and six children now that women are banned from carrying out aid work in Afghanistan.

Add to that Kabul's coldest winter in more than a decade, making warm clothes, fuel and food all the more crucial, and Sediqi is out of ideas about how to keep the family going.

Rakesh Kumar was playing with his daughter at a park in northern India one evening in September when two smartly dressed salesmen approached the carpenter and father-of-three.

The men said they worked for Byju's, an Indian education technology company that offers online classes, and pitched a 36,000-rupee ($435) tuition course for Kumar's 11-year-old daughter, saying it would be her golden ticket to success.

From parents wanting the best possible education for their children to next-generation tech-savvy professionals striving to build their careers, education technology company Bjyu's quickly became a beacon of hope for Indians seeking a brighter future.

Founded in 2011, the Bengaluru-based startup launched its learning app in 2015 and soon snowballed into a multibillion-dollar behemoth - and India's leading edtech business - with members of the country's burgeoning middle class seeking jobs and financial security in one of the world's biggest tech hubs.

Pulling out a shirt from a shelf at her shop in central India, Chandrawati Rajpoot recalls the sleepless nights she had after borrowing money from a loan shark - twice to pay for her sons' college tuition and once for a medical emergency.

Unable to pay the 5% daily interest on her last loan of 20,000 rupees ($245) in 2019, she was forced to give away her gold bangles - a family heirloom - to stop the moneylender from harassing her.