Our domestic help walked in on the 30th of last month with a replacement in tow. I'm leaving Delhi for good, she said. I've had enough. This person will be your new help. A frail, pretty young woman smelling strongly of Boroplus looked me up and down. Nothing puts me off more than being taken for granted. 'Why should i keep her,' i argued, blah blah blah. But both of us knew i had no choice. I didnt want to leave my bed early morning and stand at the apartment gates to 'catch' a suitable maid as scores of them get off overcrowded three wheelers and head for work. This was as good as it was going to get. I only had to try her out and train her afresh. For someone like me that is a lot to ask. Anyway, The first signs were good. I had a good feeling about this person. What's your name? I asked. Sapna, she said. Husband drove a rickshaw and son was looked after at home by her relatives while she worked. Seemed too good to be true.
It was. Within a week Sapna seemed to have lost some more weight and began to turn up late. She seemed disoriented and preoccupied. When I asked her for her ID papers the truth came pouring out. Beauty Bibi is barely 20 years old. She has been married twice. The first husband died and left her with a son who is now barely three. The parents lost no time and married her off to another guy who brought her here to Delhi. This guy is a gambler and alcoholic. He cant stand the sight of the kid and she already has another on the way. The only food at home is rice and she and the kid survive on it. Her cup of misery overfloweth as you can see.
While my heart bleeds for Beauty i wonder about the million other such Beauty bibis out there who suffer the same plight. And when will it change? She says she will not go back home to her folks who put her in this situation. She swears she will divorce her husband even as her eyes brim over while thinking of her son. That's the spirit i tell her. You got to take the rudder of life in your own hands. I hope she means it.
No comments:
Post a Comment