She enters, high and chirpy, with a purse in one hand and a mobile phone in another. Soon they transform into a broom and a dustpan. As she goes about her business, switching off fans, moving about furniture and thus waking those sleeping on, the monotony of her regular job is writ large on her face. The lady of the house asks if she is okay. She nods her head in acceptance and continues to do her job, drops of sweat trickling down her weary temples.
For the lady of the house, who identifies as an ‘upper middle class’ woman, hiring a maid is as good as an achievement. More than the work involved, the maid’s presence is a boost to her ego. Though she doesn’t admit it, having someone else tend to the household chores raises her sense of self-worth. If it wasn’t the maid, it would have to be her. Obviously her husband wouldn’t engage in or help out with such menial tasks. He’s got work to do. Work that matters. This is not work! This is but routine.
Once the maid has put in a day’s labour, she wipes her hands clean and quietly approaches the lady of the house. It is that time of the month when her wages are due. As she is handed a crisp five hundred-rupee note, she smiles and asks for a raise. Her arguments revolve around how physically taxing her work is and how the dreariness has caused her to frequently visit the hospital. The lady of the house looks at the maid’s purse, casts a sideways glance at her mobile and flatly refuses. This work is not tedious! Most certainly not!
More so, why should she spend her husband’s hard-earned money on a measly kaamwali ? They can’t afford to waste money that way! What has a maid got to do with money? To buy another purse and a fancier mobile? After haggling for a few minutes the maid sighs, picks up her belongings and leaves. She can’t quit. She has to come back again tomorrow. She considers if she should work in another house. That sum would help pay her daughter’s school fee. But what about her constant backache? Would she be able to manage so much? She knows she doesn’t have much choice.
Meanwhile, the lady of the house lauds herself for having outmanoeuvred the maid and starts to get ready for an evening with her friends. She pulls out a beautiful dress she bought yesterday. A little overpriced but enough to trigger her friends’ envy.
Just then the clock strikes one. It’s time for her favourite TV show. It is about a poor girl who falls in love with a rich boy but has to bear the brunt of her wealthy and conceited mother-in-law. Such a villainous woman!
Privilege has the last laugh. Conscience dies a slow death.
akilbakhshi@yahoo.co.in
