Maid - Domestic Help
It was first week of May in one of the years of the 60’s.I was on vacation at my paternal grandfather’s house in Kerala. My morning routines were to get up early, wash my face and clean my legs and hands.
My grandmother gave me coffee before I went for a bath. There was no routine of news paper being delivered at home. The days’ news always figured in the daily gathering of the elders in my grand father’s house. Usually it happened after the lunch time and went on till it was time for evening coffee.
I never saw my grand father sleeping in the after noon. Besides, if any one was missing for the gathering, others will enquire about the reason for the absence – always worried if the person fell sick etc; and check with the youngsters from the family of the particular one.
Only those who were sick and advised rest, alone took a brief nap in the afternoons that too for a short period. It was considered a sin to sleep in the day time and it was a sinner habit to retain an open bed in the house.
Some days, I ventured for taking a dip in the local tank maintained by the local Brahmin community.
Besides this routine, I always watched the work done by the domestic help- a woman from Kongan region. There were families from Kongan state who migrated to our neighbor hood for work and making a living.
They spoke Malayam very well besides Kongani or Thulu.
She was a thin figure and very active like the cartoon book heroines. My grand mother addressed her as PAAYEE.
Paayee will collect all the utensils and other items placed for washing, which included the heavy vessels made of gun metal or bronze. It was not the era of stainless steel yet.
She will take them to the base of a coconut tree. This tree was next to the shed, across the main house, crooked and was extending its head far away into the other side of the shed. So, there was no fear of a coconut or a trunk falling straight on her while working.
There was no detergent or any special powder for cleaning the vessels. The only stuff available was a magical combination of ash from the choola, (fire place for cooking food) and fine sand (spread all over the compound) and tamarind besides coconut fiber.) Of course, water was available to be drawn up from the well, using a bucket and a pulley hung to a near hard wooden bar. There were no taps or pumps to make this task easier.
I always wondered how this lady was able to combine these ingredients and produce a very clean utensil after giving a tough treatment with her rough hands. I noticed her hands were rough but very clean – having repeated this act several hundred times during her career as domestic help.
She also performed cleaning the floor of the house. The house comprised of two small rooms, kitchen, hall and veranda. She will have a metal bucket (a heavy device, compared to modern day light plastic bucket) half filled with water and diluted with few drops of phenol.
Those days, phenol was sold as heavy liquid straight from the oil refinery bottled carefully for cautious application. The liquid was very effective; (could evaporate a person who consumes it by accident) it not only kept the mosquitoes away, but also naughty children.
Phenol, available these days is a white liquid – as is mixed heavily with water, is harmless and cannot cause any danger if swallowed.
An old piece of cloth, detached from an old dhoti/ sari, or similar clothing beyond reuse or wash, was used in place of the modern day mop to wipe a floor clean.
Paayee has to bend, so that her belly is reduced to a thin and combined layer of inner and outer skin around her stomach, before applying pressure from her right hand and move it closely on the floor. She always brushed the floor using a heavy and thick broom before wetting the floor for wash.
My grandmother never supervised her in her jobs as Paayee was very good in these jobs and perfected it over the years.
Only on days when more and heavy utensils were put for wash, my grand mother will leave her with special instructions as necessary.
This was usually on days when, my grandfather performed Ganesh pooja or a homam – havan – meaning using fire on a special place.
On these occasions, the vessels had heavy deposits of carbon and to clean them more effort was required. For this additional task, Paayee got PRASAD FROM THE pooja, besides a good meal at times.
Now-a days we have light weight vessels, effective cleaning chemicals for all applications, protective clothing.
Floor cleaning is made easy with the invention of a mop and a stick, people need not (as cannot) bend any more.
Paayee also worked in few other houses for her lively hood and never spoke a word discontent or dissatisfaction.
Can you imagine what her salary was? It was one rupee and four nanas only.
The service under domestic help has turned into an ugly act in these days as it involves less work for more money.
The days are gone when a domestic was part of the family except was not entitled for a place in the WILL. They were a breed of trust worthiness and a solid example for reliability. Not any more
One has to nearly make a stamp paper agreement all clauses being in their favor under all circumstances. Only specific tasks will be undertaken and may not be performed though. One good aspect is most came well dressed and demand for a mop stick, a cleaning brush or preferably a vacuum cleaner etc;
At the end of the tasks, you will see a mermaid in them as they hardly wet or sweat their hands. A stranger will conclude as if he has seen a maid going to attend a marriage or function. Only the master will look dirty for having chased the maid without much success.
The relation ship between the hirer and the domestic is more or less like a Manager and a trade union leader. You may not celebrate any festival on your own – some time due to a death in the family, but that does not deprive the maid from getting her share from your house.
The normal act of sharing anything by the master is long gone, as anything spoken or done will be taken against him / her. So, fear of loosing the domestic keeps most masters from uttering any word on the maid.
While the work load is demanded to be reduced, the domestic help never stops asking for a rise in her salary. This is besides a cash bonus on all festival days- sweets or other special food is not the satisfying stuff any more. Cash is a must besides the other items.
One domestic help works in many houses and so, you may be at logger heads with your neighbor if the maid blabbers some wrong news about your house hold SECRETS. Like TAXI drivers, domestic helps are also a unique breed, in propagating wild information to other masters.
They are a useful source for anti domestic broadcasting set up, if you want to tease your competitor who also has the same maid. They are the most successful rumor mongers and never caught in the act.
There presence is a very essential part of modern day living and their activities are also a source for entertainment – though the price is very high and risky.
There are some very good and reliable ones among them. They are trust worthy and will never upset you under any condition, but such a rarity is fast diminishing and lets prepare ourselves to be a better replacement as our own reliable domestic help – an perform duties to keep our body bendable and reachable to a gold coin if placed below our feet.
Compiled by
Siva – Adapted from personal diaries
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Holy Thoughts
Holy Thoughts and wishful thinking
It is almost a year – short of 21 days since I returned to India and settled in Coimbatore since then.
When looking through the window, one can see the limited outer area which enables the person to see people walking, animals passing, children playing, vendors announcing their commodity for sale, and similar scenes.
If the same person comes out he will see a lot more, like the stretch of the street, greenery on either side, neighbors talking to each other, children running to school or to catch their transport, will hear creeping noise generated by the vehicles and much more.
If the person can access, to the balcony or terrace above his house, the glimpses will be different. He can see a vast area around him, a wider sky, and beautiful landscape covering several square kilometers and so on;
The eyes will cover much more as the person goes up further – say see things from the top of the building several stories above the ground. The wind will be pleasant and cool with its breeze, larger structures will look like tiny objects, people will be seen as moving toys and the whole situation will be mind bogging.
A view using a pair of binoculars will be far more spectacular with stunning view reaching up-to several kilometers.
This is just the level of differences between the ground and top of the building in the same space.
Now think of the life’s changes from childhood to several years into life, where the basic exposure is same as the above analogy.
The God’s gift (baby) has people to pamper, look after and taking care and to meet the needs every time it (the baby) cries or makes some kind of noise or gesture.
Few months in to this world and exposure to reality makes the child wonder what is happening around him / her. Sooner the baby learns some basics and communication to deal with parents / others who throng at him and is confirmed the most intelligent of its kind ever born in the family.
Gradually, the scene changes from affection to control, imposing of the same makes the child to get naughty and vulnerable to dictations by parents.
Here comes the initial frustration, though not shown for the sake of elders / relatives and neighbors.
Infant changes from baby to child within a span of few months. - absorbing everything that can hear or see in the previous months of observations. Suddenly, everyone hears lots of expressions and gestures one after the other which is interpreted to suit every one’s imagination.
Moving quickly, this childhood passes thru other stages and into manhood / womanhood.
Up to this level of growth, it was like a fast track, and easy going to most, as they are under the care of parents for everything and suddenly thrown on their own with an academic qualification and dream about the life in front for years to come.
The reality bites. The individual thinks about having a decent job, good salary, and opportunities to make money in establishing a life of his own at the fastest possible period, besides a desire to live on his own preferably far better than his ancestors / predecessors.
During this stage of progress, most people forget their friends, family responsibilities and, domestic liabilities. They forget what made them to reach this level, and how much hardship was put into in bringing a baby to adulthood.
All of a sudden, the thoughts are different. Associates are different; attitude is different, affection and love towards kith and kin left in the air and so on;
Only very few children grow up maintaining family values, retain virtues and remain loyal and committed to elders. The transit in most cases, rob the individual of his good nature and core values simply because, they do not have proper guidance any more. There is no one to hold his hands and take him through the right path or lift him when needed to cross thorny lanes.
They have no time to look back – in to the good old times and seek advise from elders to remain on track.
Seeing similar situation in most cases now, I wonder what I have done to the society in my life – span of 50 years.
I’m happy that I have contributed for the development of all my family members without any great expectations from them.
But as I said earlier, I have not done anything to the society yet. I need to do something to the society, to which I belong and which is taking care of me.
At times, I feel sorry for chasing people to maintain communication with me, listen to my words, or expecting them to be like they were in childhood.
I forget, they too have grown up, raised their families, developed a whole new circuit of their own and have hardly time to remember the past or maintain the old habit or listen to me.(any more.)
I forget, that priorities have changed for all and are different for different person and has got its own character.
Some times, I look back into my past and laugh to myself of the situation that has changed in the past 50 years. I refuse to accept the change but for the aging of my body parts.
I never realize, how others will be, what could be the reason for their indifference towards me (despite my regular communication,) or why they are not like me, or did I make mistakes or blunders that affected them. No answer.
I think of some of my good friends, few of them are not around any more, wonder what makes me to think like this and why am I different in this aspect. No answer again.
At times, I realize that my life span is not going to be extended to another 60 years and worry about my ZERO contribution / work towards the society.
I always wondered when I see a tall and spacious building, and excited further when seeing its content and admired the vastness of its structure.
Bust, going through this process very frequently, made the building looks shorter and shorter each time I saw it.
Like that, the very thought – of having gone thru the life’s cycles at different situations frequently, gives me strength to face more of such situations. At the same time, I have no patience to put up with it any more.
If you are in an aero plane, and looking thru the window, you will see the world as a small semi/ hemisphere and wonder about your identity downstairs at other times.
Similarly, I always wonder, how different are the people around me though, we all live on this planet.
I think each one is different from me, and have own commitments and priorities that make them a limited edition in the society.
I think my time ahead is to concentrate on doing something to the society, or at-least stay quietly without bothering others for the rest of my life, leaving them on their own, but only respond to genuine communications at times.
It is a bit funny though, to think that I had too many friends in the school and college days, plus few in my work places, but left with a handful that too hesitating to reciprocate as before. I console myself, telling that the life is different for all and I should not complaint.
My prolonged absence in my own place has made me a stranger in my place. I always believed that people stay around for long. Then I realize that many have gone for ever, to different locations, some have left for leading eternal life, and many are strangers to me altogether.
I think that I’m confusing myself and others by frequently compelling on certain common ethics which are not in force any more. This is probably, due to my association with Europeans and Americans for long time, besides, my nature of convincing every one about my thoughts on everything which need not be universal.
I need to confine myself, to a different mould which will only be transparent as needed and to suit the situation around me now. Such an identity must be ideal for me to lead the evening of life, and to exit gracefully.
Now I know, my true age.
It is almost a year – short of 21 days since I returned to India and settled in Coimbatore since then.
When looking through the window, one can see the limited outer area which enables the person to see people walking, animals passing, children playing, vendors announcing their commodity for sale, and similar scenes.
If the same person comes out he will see a lot more, like the stretch of the street, greenery on either side, neighbors talking to each other, children running to school or to catch their transport, will hear creeping noise generated by the vehicles and much more.
If the person can access, to the balcony or terrace above his house, the glimpses will be different. He can see a vast area around him, a wider sky, and beautiful landscape covering several square kilometers and so on;
The eyes will cover much more as the person goes up further – say see things from the top of the building several stories above the ground. The wind will be pleasant and cool with its breeze, larger structures will look like tiny objects, people will be seen as moving toys and the whole situation will be mind bogging.
A view using a pair of binoculars will be far more spectacular with stunning view reaching up-to several kilometers.
This is just the level of differences between the ground and top of the building in the same space.
Now think of the life’s changes from childhood to several years into life, where the basic exposure is same as the above analogy.
The God’s gift (baby) has people to pamper, look after and taking care and to meet the needs every time it (the baby) cries or makes some kind of noise or gesture.
Few months in to this world and exposure to reality makes the child wonder what is happening around him / her. Sooner the baby learns some basics and communication to deal with parents / others who throng at him and is confirmed the most intelligent of its kind ever born in the family.
Gradually, the scene changes from affection to control, imposing of the same makes the child to get naughty and vulnerable to dictations by parents.
Here comes the initial frustration, though not shown for the sake of elders / relatives and neighbors.
Infant changes from baby to child within a span of few months. - absorbing everything that can hear or see in the previous months of observations. Suddenly, everyone hears lots of expressions and gestures one after the other which is interpreted to suit every one’s imagination.
Moving quickly, this childhood passes thru other stages and into manhood / womanhood.
Up to this level of growth, it was like a fast track, and easy going to most, as they are under the care of parents for everything and suddenly thrown on their own with an academic qualification and dream about the life in front for years to come.
The reality bites. The individual thinks about having a decent job, good salary, and opportunities to make money in establishing a life of his own at the fastest possible period, besides a desire to live on his own preferably far better than his ancestors / predecessors.
During this stage of progress, most people forget their friends, family responsibilities and, domestic liabilities. They forget what made them to reach this level, and how much hardship was put into in bringing a baby to adulthood.
All of a sudden, the thoughts are different. Associates are different; attitude is different, affection and love towards kith and kin left in the air and so on;
Only very few children grow up maintaining family values, retain virtues and remain loyal and committed to elders. The transit in most cases, rob the individual of his good nature and core values simply because, they do not have proper guidance any more. There is no one to hold his hands and take him through the right path or lift him when needed to cross thorny lanes.
They have no time to look back – in to the good old times and seek advise from elders to remain on track.
Seeing similar situation in most cases now, I wonder what I have done to the society in my life – span of 50 years.
I’m happy that I have contributed for the development of all my family members without any great expectations from them.
But as I said earlier, I have not done anything to the society yet. I need to do something to the society, to which I belong and which is taking care of me.
At times, I feel sorry for chasing people to maintain communication with me, listen to my words, or expecting them to be like they were in childhood.
I forget, they too have grown up, raised their families, developed a whole new circuit of their own and have hardly time to remember the past or maintain the old habit or listen to me.(any more.)
I forget, that priorities have changed for all and are different for different person and has got its own character.
Some times, I look back into my past and laugh to myself of the situation that has changed in the past 50 years. I refuse to accept the change but for the aging of my body parts.
I never realize, how others will be, what could be the reason for their indifference towards me (despite my regular communication,) or why they are not like me, or did I make mistakes or blunders that affected them. No answer.
I think of some of my good friends, few of them are not around any more, wonder what makes me to think like this and why am I different in this aspect. No answer again.
At times, I realize that my life span is not going to be extended to another 60 years and worry about my ZERO contribution / work towards the society.
I always wondered when I see a tall and spacious building, and excited further when seeing its content and admired the vastness of its structure.
Bust, going through this process very frequently, made the building looks shorter and shorter each time I saw it.
Like that, the very thought – of having gone thru the life’s cycles at different situations frequently, gives me strength to face more of such situations. At the same time, I have no patience to put up with it any more.
If you are in an aero plane, and looking thru the window, you will see the world as a small semi/ hemisphere and wonder about your identity downstairs at other times.
Similarly, I always wonder, how different are the people around me though, we all live on this planet.
I think each one is different from me, and have own commitments and priorities that make them a limited edition in the society.
I think my time ahead is to concentrate on doing something to the society, or at-least stay quietly without bothering others for the rest of my life, leaving them on their own, but only respond to genuine communications at times.
It is a bit funny though, to think that I had too many friends in the school and college days, plus few in my work places, but left with a handful that too hesitating to reciprocate as before. I console myself, telling that the life is different for all and I should not complaint.
My prolonged absence in my own place has made me a stranger in my place. I always believed that people stay around for long. Then I realize that many have gone for ever, to different locations, some have left for leading eternal life, and many are strangers to me altogether.
I think that I’m confusing myself and others by frequently compelling on certain common ethics which are not in force any more. This is probably, due to my association with Europeans and Americans for long time, besides, my nature of convincing every one about my thoughts on everything which need not be universal.
I need to confine myself, to a different mould which will only be transparent as needed and to suit the situation around me now. Such an identity must be ideal for me to lead the evening of life, and to exit gracefully.
Now I know, my true age.
Changes
The Change - Shortage and its Blessings
The conductor inside the bus asked “Do you change” meaning “do you have change” in broken English, and my friend replied I don’t change I remain like this as he did not speak Hindi and new to the City – New Delhi.
I explained to him that the conductor is asking for loose coins equivalent to 0.55 paisa- being the bus fare from Ghaziabad to Shadhra – in the year 1969. The fear of loosing a definite 5 paisa was more than anything else on my friend’s face.
Based on observations and personal experience, many gained more than its worth (of change), by refusing to return the balance in most cases of cost of the tickets.
It appears that the authorities also did not bother about fixing cost of a journey ticket to a rounded off value, so that there was no problem in tendering the change.
I had quarrels with bus conductors on several occasions and demanded the balance after taking the correct value of the ticket. In most cases, the conductor often wrote the balance value owed to the passenger on the back of the ticket and signed it. The commuter was then requested to collect it from the transport company’s office.
This system had its own flaws, as many didn’t live close to the bus depot nor they had the time to take effort to retrieve the small balance.
At times, I told the conductor that he has robbed the public to build his own house and suggested that he should name it PUBLIC HOUSE.
As I personally did not want to encourage giving away 5 or 10 paisa like this, started collecting and saving changes for helping other friends who more often than not, used buses for moving around Delhi and its neighbor hood.
The first one to help me was my uncle, who dropped all the change he got into a box on daily basis. There was always an increment of 5 to 30 paisa daily from this collection.
I also made sure that I will never part with any small change.
During my college days, the bus fare to college was 14 paisa to my college. Interestingly, many of my class mates lost 2 paisa daily to the conductor as it was difficult to return 1 paisa every time. Eventually, I decided to walk the distance by straight away saving the entire 28 paisa daily- 6 days a week.
My financial condition was very bad then, so this method of tiny saving besides taking care of my health, provided me with a sizable sum to buy blank sheets for writing notes.
One ream of paper was sold at Rs.7 in those days, and I purchased 3 reams per year.
I realized that, the value of this small amount when put together.
Collecting changes and saving it helped me to learn more about saving. Most of my relatives, learned about my habit / hobby, approached me for change, for donating to poor people (alms) during their pilgrimage to Kasi, Haridwar and other holy places via Delhi.
At one point, I got some gifts in return for huge change provided for an elderly member in our family. Soon my mother learned about this thru’ the relatives,( who spoke of my generosity in providing required loose coins for their holy trips) that ,I’m saving LOTS OF MONEY IN LOOSE COINS. On one occasion, I had to send R501 (in loose change to my mother for a family function and to be used for giving away to Brahmins and poor ladies.) with my uncle who flew to my native place. Jokingly he told me that this 501 in change would be the heaviest single luggage in the flight.
In this quest for looking for change, I came across old coins and some different ones from other countries. I retained some of them for my collection.
I became user friendly with some bus conductors who instead of asking for correct change, often accepted the nearest small value for the ticket ( say, took 75 paisa instead of 80 paisa) Between 1965 and 2009, I tendered change and purchased tickets denominated from 14 paisa to Rs.3.50. The face value were paisa 14, 35, 45, 80, 90, 110,120,160,190, 210,240,270 and 290.
These, not my imaginary figures, but face value of tickets fixed and printed and put into use (in the past 45 years) for the benefit of bus conductors. One can imagine how much of this went into the pockets of unscrupulous bus conductors.
Then there were good among them as well. I know of some DTC conductors, who trusted me to return change in my next trip, as I was frequent traveler during my stay in Ghaziabad.- in the 70’s
Now it is the turn of conductors here in Coimbatore. The shortage is not 2, 5, or 10 paisa any more. It is also increased. Now it is 50 paisa, Re1, Re.2.
Who ever is lucky gets the change. The benefit due to shortage of change goes with the change in time.
The shrewd and clever one wins the change.
Siva – Adapted from Personal Dairies.
The conductor inside the bus asked “Do you change” meaning “do you have change” in broken English, and my friend replied I don’t change I remain like this as he did not speak Hindi and new to the City – New Delhi.
I explained to him that the conductor is asking for loose coins equivalent to 0.55 paisa- being the bus fare from Ghaziabad to Shadhra – in the year 1969. The fear of loosing a definite 5 paisa was more than anything else on my friend’s face.
Based on observations and personal experience, many gained more than its worth (of change), by refusing to return the balance in most cases of cost of the tickets.
It appears that the authorities also did not bother about fixing cost of a journey ticket to a rounded off value, so that there was no problem in tendering the change.
I had quarrels with bus conductors on several occasions and demanded the balance after taking the correct value of the ticket. In most cases, the conductor often wrote the balance value owed to the passenger on the back of the ticket and signed it. The commuter was then requested to collect it from the transport company’s office.
This system had its own flaws, as many didn’t live close to the bus depot nor they had the time to take effort to retrieve the small balance.
At times, I told the conductor that he has robbed the public to build his own house and suggested that he should name it PUBLIC HOUSE.
As I personally did not want to encourage giving away 5 or 10 paisa like this, started collecting and saving changes for helping other friends who more often than not, used buses for moving around Delhi and its neighbor hood.
The first one to help me was my uncle, who dropped all the change he got into a box on daily basis. There was always an increment of 5 to 30 paisa daily from this collection.
I also made sure that I will never part with any small change.
During my college days, the bus fare to college was 14 paisa to my college. Interestingly, many of my class mates lost 2 paisa daily to the conductor as it was difficult to return 1 paisa every time. Eventually, I decided to walk the distance by straight away saving the entire 28 paisa daily- 6 days a week.
My financial condition was very bad then, so this method of tiny saving besides taking care of my health, provided me with a sizable sum to buy blank sheets for writing notes.
One ream of paper was sold at Rs.7 in those days, and I purchased 3 reams per year.
I realized that, the value of this small amount when put together.
Collecting changes and saving it helped me to learn more about saving. Most of my relatives, learned about my habit / hobby, approached me for change, for donating to poor people (alms) during their pilgrimage to Kasi, Haridwar and other holy places via Delhi.
At one point, I got some gifts in return for huge change provided for an elderly member in our family. Soon my mother learned about this thru’ the relatives,( who spoke of my generosity in providing required loose coins for their holy trips) that ,I’m saving LOTS OF MONEY IN LOOSE COINS. On one occasion, I had to send R501 (in loose change to my mother for a family function and to be used for giving away to Brahmins and poor ladies.) with my uncle who flew to my native place. Jokingly he told me that this 501 in change would be the heaviest single luggage in the flight.
In this quest for looking for change, I came across old coins and some different ones from other countries. I retained some of them for my collection.
I became user friendly with some bus conductors who instead of asking for correct change, often accepted the nearest small value for the ticket ( say, took 75 paisa instead of 80 paisa) Between 1965 and 2009, I tendered change and purchased tickets denominated from 14 paisa to Rs.3.50. The face value were paisa 14, 35, 45, 80, 90, 110,120,160,190, 210,240,270 and 290.
These, not my imaginary figures, but face value of tickets fixed and printed and put into use (in the past 45 years) for the benefit of bus conductors. One can imagine how much of this went into the pockets of unscrupulous bus conductors.
Then there were good among them as well. I know of some DTC conductors, who trusted me to return change in my next trip, as I was frequent traveler during my stay in Ghaziabad.- in the 70’s
Now it is the turn of conductors here in Coimbatore. The shortage is not 2, 5, or 10 paisa any more. It is also increased. Now it is 50 paisa, Re1, Re.2.
Who ever is lucky gets the change. The benefit due to shortage of change goes with the change in time.
The shrewd and clever one wins the change.
Siva – Adapted from Personal Dairies.
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