For Two Meals A Day - Manushi. A Report on Tamil Domestic Maids...a survey of 25 Tamil women. Of these, four were un-married girls between the ages of 14 and 16, and seven were widows.

2 MANUSHI

LAJPAT Nagar, where the Manushioffice is situated, has a predominance ofTamil domestic servants. We conducteda survey of 25 Tamil women. Of these,four were un-married girls between theages of 14 and 16, and seven werewidows. We also interviewed four menof their own community and sevenemployers.

Our attempt has been to understandthe pressures which push them out oftheir villages in the south to a distantcity in the north, the nature of the workthey undertake, the reasons for takingup one kind of work and not another—if

there is a choice—and the conditions oftheir life in the city.

MigrationThe picture that emerges from the

women’s accounts of migration is one ofhuman beings shifting for survival. Whatthey hoped to find in this distant citywas not a life of luxury but a life thatwould ensure two meals a day, and a lifewithout debts.

A majority of those interviewed comefrom North Arcot district with a few fromMadurai and Tirunelveli districts. Theywere agricultural labourers. Low wagescoupled with recurrent drought and

accumulating debts drove them out oftheir villages.

The wage they received in the villageranged from Re 1 to Rs 4 for a woman forfive hours of work and from Rs 2 to Rs 8for a man for 10 hours of work. Thesewages were often paid in kind, whichmeant a kilogram or two of paddy.

Parvati says : “If we went to harvestwe received Rs 2 or Rs 2.50 per day. If wereturned at 1 p.m. we received Rs 1.50. Akilogram of rice cost ‘Rs 1.50, and 50paise were spent to buy spices for thegravy.” Their life was lived from day today. “It was enough if each day passed,”

For Two MealsA Day

—A Report On TamilDomestic Maids

PRABHA RANI, POONAM KAUL

NUMBER THIRTY FIVE, 1986 3

says Pattu. “If two from a family worked,the wages would cover a day’s meal forthe family.”

Having a little land was no protectionagainst starvation and indebtedness asthe landholdings were small and theproduce was not enough to last a wholeyear. Even families owning a little landhad to work as labourers to supplementtheir income. When the monsoons failedthere was very little work to go around.So there was only a marginal differencein the condition of a landless and alanded family.

As if this were not hard enough, workwas not available on all days of the year.Nearly six months in a year they had tosurvive on what they had saved duringthe other six or by selling jewellery, ifthey still had any. Jayalakshmi says : “Ifwe got three padis of paddy we wouldput aside one padi and that would standus in good stead during times ofscarcity.” “We just sat around duringthose days of idleness. Use up what isleft, sell jewellery and eat and when workis available, go again”, says Yashoda.

These months of compulsoryidleness were also months that broughtin indebtedness. As Valar-madi says :“Don’t we eat by borrowing money ?When we harvest, we repay that.” Thedebts were incurred in the hope of a goodharvest. But when the harvest failed dueto lack of rain or when it failed forconsecutive years, indebtedness becameacute and there was a compulsion tomove to a place where they wouldsurvive.

Preparation for migration broughtfurther indebtedness in its wake. All thewomen interviewed had sold ormortgaged their land or hut to pay forthe train fare to Delhi. Pattu, who had alittle land, had mortgaged it to survivewhen her husband died and she fell ill.When she decided to come to Delhi withher two sons, she mortgaged her hut forRs 300. Yashoda’s family had no land andno hut to mortgage, so they borrowedKs 600 from a person who trusted them,and after working in Delhi for some time,they repaid this amount. Valarmadi’smother mortgaged her land for Rs 700 tosend Valarmadi and her husband to Delhi.

To Work Every DayMost of the women interviewed had

come to Delhi because they already hadrelatives who had lived in Delhi for acouple of years and had repaid the debtsincurred in the village. Panjavarnam andher husband had worked on the land ofa brahman for many years. They heardfrom people who had migrat-ed to Delhithat, “There one gets work every day,men get government jobs, women workin four or five houses and earn Rs 300 or400. After spending on food, one cansave Rs 200 every month and in four orfive years save Rs 10,000 to buy a pieceof land in the village.”

Panjavarnam was exceptional in thesense that she migrated without havinganyone to turn to in Delhi. She roughedit for a couple of years and then, with abetter knowledge of Hindi, arrangedwork for herself.

Her nephew’s wife Valarmadi says :“Since she was here we thought shewould help us find houses to work in.We saw how, after 10 years in Delhi, shehad bought some jewellery and a threequarter kani* of land. We were facingmany difficulties. We decided we couldsurvive in Delhi and also repay all ourdebts.”

Delhi, though far from their villages,offers a better chance of survival than

does Madras. The wages for domesticwork in Madras are much lower. As Usha,a Tamil woman in Delhi who employs aTamil maidservant, revealed, a maid inMadras receives just Rs 30 or Rs 40 formopping, sweeping, and washing dishesand clothes, whereas a maidservant inDelhi receives anywhere between Rs 90and Rs 100 for the same tasks.

HousingThe Tamil migrant slum which we

visited for some of our interviews islocated bang next to a rail track. This ishow the slum came into existence. Thefirst man who came had a job in therailways. He was given a tent to pitchclose to the site of work. Within no time,other Tamil families started trickling inand settled in the area adjacent to thetracks.

The houses lie within a 50 feet radiusof the tracks. Lying cheek by jowl, theseare six feet high structures of brickcemented with soft mud. The walls andfloors are given a coat of cowdung whichhas to be applied afresh every three days.

Less than six feet separate the floorfrom the ceiling in the centre of the hut.Since the ceiling is sloping and barelythree feet at the sides, all movement withinthe hut is confined to a bent, crouched

The migrant colony

*One kani is two and a half acres ofland

4 MANUSHI

position. The entrance, a wooden door,is not higher than three feet in mosthouses.

Nearly all the huts have a roof oflightweight hollow reed which appearshighly vulnerable to flame. Unlesscovered with a plastic sheet, which manyhave put up, the roof leaks during therains. The total surface area of the hut issix by six feet. This space serves as akitchen, sleeping and living area for anaverage of four people.

The only source of ventilation is afive inch opening above the door. Mosthuts contain a single cot on which allpossessions are piled up during themonsoon. Makeshift shelves are createdin one part of the wall where plastic andglass containers holding spices, pulsesand cooking oil are kept. A stove, akerosene bottle, a chulha and someutensils can be seen in many huts.

There is no electricity in the huts.Drinking water has to be fetched from acommon pipe half a kilometre away. Thetask of fetching water is the responsibilityof women who collect a couple of bucketsevery evening to meet the family’scooking and drinking requirements. Thefirst few families who settled at the sitejointly invested in the installation of apump for their own needs. As the slumpopulation swelled, this became a sourceof income for these families. Each of theother families pays Rs 10 a month for theuse of the pump.

Brisk activity is evident in theafternoons when the women get down todoing their housework. Some can be seencleaning rice or pulses for the eveningmeal while others sweep the interior of thehut or comb their hair. Thick smoke fromthe earthen stoves greeted us on ourvisits to the slum. These take a good halfhour to light and the coal and wood usedgive on” thick, cough provoking smoke.Adding to the din of crying children, olderboy or girl children fetching water andwomen beating clothes were transistorsblaring film music.

Men bathe at the pump in broaddaylight whereas women perform thesame activity under cover ot darkness.Only a few people have enclosures builtnext to their huts to serve as private baths.

The slum-dwellers generally bathe oncein two days.

The open tracts of grassland nearbyare used as a latrine. Women have to easethemselves either at night or in the weehours of the morning.

Nearly all the immigrants who havebeen in Delhi for seven to 10 years havehad to move house three times becausetheir hutments were razed to the ground.

We feel that the government cannot beabsolved of its responsibility for creatingthe slums in the first place as it is theunskilled government employees whohave paved the way for the emer-genceof a slum by pitching the tents providedto them by the railways— the largestvisible employer of Tamil migrant labourhere.

During the Emergency, these

Interior of a hut

NUMBER THIRTY FIVE, 1986 5

migrants were evicted from the near-byDefence Colony flyover and were givenaccomodation on the outskirts of Delhi.However, commuting to their workplaceconsumed too much time and money sothey were forced to return to the city.This led to the growth of the present slumnear the Jal Vihar bus terminal.

The possibility of their hutmentsbeing mowed down again by themunicipal authorities, is a perma-nentsource of anxiety to the slum dwellers.Even after several evic-tions, they haveno resources to offer resistance againsta future one.

Working ConditionsOf the 25 Tamil migrant women

interviewed, 22 work as domesticservants. Their average income permonth is Rs 220 although individualearnings range from Rs 100 to Rs 300.The women measure their work in termsof their income. Devaki, for instance, saidshe works for Rs 200. Only a detailedbreakup of the number of householdsand the tasks in each, gave us an idea ofthe work involved in earning this amount.

Jaya has six houses in hand. In twohouses, she washes utensils and in twoothers, washes utensils and cleans thehouse. This fetches her only Rs 265 sinceshe is paid only Rs 25 or 30 in a housewhere she washes utensils but is paidRs 60 in a house where she does boththe tasks of cleaning the house and theutensils.

On the other hand, Pattu, who worksin only two houses, washing utensilsand cleaning the house in both, gets Rs190. One of her houses is a bungalow,where there are two huge rooms and aportico. She is paid Rs. 120 here and Rs70 for the other house.

The number of utensils and clothesa woman washes is directly related tothe number of members in a family butmay not be related to the money she gets.For instance, Lakshmi gets Rs 50 to 60 infour houses where the membershipranges from three to five.

The nature of their work pre-ventsthem from undertaking more houses toenhance their earnings. Since the firstround of utensils has to be done between7 and 11 a. m., the women try to fit in as

many houses as possible during thisperiod. However, they cannot do morethan six houses. Those who work in more,do so with the help of a younger sister orbrother. Valarmadi, who already cleansfloors and utensils in eight houses, saysshe would be able to do three more sinceher brother helps her with the work. Buteven that would fetch the two of themonly Rs 400.

From 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. the women arefree to either hang around or sleep andhave their lunch in a nearby park. At 2p.m. they begin the second round of workand finish by 4 p.m. Thus, they have apaid workday of six hours.

But work for the women does not endat 4 p.m. The women are entirelyresponsible for the work that needs to bedone back home. Lakshmi, 14, returnshome at 5 p. m. after finishing the work ofher five employers and gets down to thesame routine in her own house which sheshares with her parents and two youngersiblings. She cleans the dishes, fetcheswater and cleans the dwellingplace.Though her mother would like her to washclothes every day, she says she does itevery second or third day.

The men do not help in house-workat all. Even Ramachandran, who isunemployed, does not help Valarmadi inthe housework. “What heln can 1 extendto her ?” he asks.

And Valarmadi says : “He does notdo anything; he only hangs around.”Women’s Work And Men’s Work

Over the years, a pattern has evolveddetermining the work available to womenand that avai-lable to men in the city. Byand large, women work as domestic maidswhereas men have a wider range ofoccupations to choose from. The mostsought after jobs are those in governmentdepartments like the public worksdepartment, railways or the municipalcorporal tion. Men can also join cemen-factories, work as gardeners, vendvegetables or do petty business sellingganja and liquor.

A majority of the husbands of thewomen interviewed had joined therailways or the corporation and many ofthem held permanent jobs. A permanent,

unskilled worker receives not less thanRs 700 per month and enjoys all thebenefits of leave, provident fund, andloans, and an assured income until heretires at 58. Other jobs only serve asstopgap occupations for the men whilethey try to secure a govern-ment job.When a man gets a government job, hemay be made permanent in a couple ofyears or may remain temporary for nineyears.

Men already in governmentemployment help newcomers byinform-ing them of vacancies orintroducing them to their senior officers.Receiv-ing of bribes for this favour iscom-mon but since the likely returns arehigh, the new immigrant is not reluc-tantto pay. Ramachandran said he would beexpected to pay Rs 50 or Rs 100 to a Tamilworker to help him find a job. Kalvirayanwho had a permanent job with therailways had willingly paid Rs 10 to afriend who had informed him of a vacancy.Shankarna, however, who is educated upto the eighth stand-dard, registeredhimself with the employment exchangewhere he was given a card. When he wasinformed that the PWD was recrui-tingmen, he went there and got a job on thebasis of his card.

All these occupational outlets areclosed to women. Those women who arealready in Delhi work as domesticservants and are not in a position tointroduce other women to any otherprofession. If they have invited a familyto Delhi the women readily help newwomen migrants to mid a household towork in, but by doing so they alsounconsciously pull them into a situationwhere they are collec-tively the ultimatelosers. For 15 years of work as domesticservants is more likely to leave them earn-ng less thaa the younger ones, with theattendant danger of having to ceaseworking altogether due to age andexhaustion. More-over, long years ofemployment do not even bring in a bulksum in the form of provident fund or anassured income as pension.

Many of the women interviewed werenot happy with their work. Valli, 15, saidit was difficult work and she would liketo do any other work, though she could

6 MANUSHI

not speci-fy what work she would ratherdo. Lakshmi, whose husband worked inthe railways and is now dead, is workingas a domestic maid for her husband’sformer bosses, who have assured her ajob in the railways. However, she doesnot think they will give her work thatinvolves travelling to distant places bytrain, such as that of a cleaner on asouthbound train which she would like.

Chellamma believes that onlyeducated people are employed by thegovernment. Parvati, when asked if shewould have liked to do some other work,declared with a delightful sense ofhumour that she had wanted to be anartist but could not manage it, and thatshe was also invited to be a lawyer butsince she was not educated it did notwork out.

Men dislike domestic work even ifthey are unemployed. Ramachan-dranhas been unemployed for many monthsnow but when asked if he would dodomestic work he replied that onlywomen and young boys are preferred todo such work, that he would work forbachelors. He said he may suppress hisshame and work for a family but endedby saying he would not do such work fora woman employer even if she came tohim to offer it. Depending on his wife’searnings while waiting for a job waspreferable to doing domestic work for pay.

Little boys do domestic work only asa stopgap until they move • on to moresecure, better paying jobs. Lakshmi is sixyears older than her brother who nowworks in two houses. She keeps a watchon him to prevent him from running offto play and has literally to drag him towork. But in 15 years or even less, he islikely to be more secure economically thanshe will even be, to have seen more ofthe world, and to be surer of his future.

The Outside WorldWomen are far less mobile than men.

Their life in Delhi revolves around theirdwellings and the houses where theywork, with a visit to the market once aweek. There is little contact with Hindispeaking men and women of their ownclass in the city. Even when they do havetime, they sit around with other Tamilwomen. This leaves few opportunities or

access to, or even knowledge of, any lifeother than the one already chalked outfor them.

The men, on the other hand, moveabout more freely. The cinema, themarketplace and the whole city is openfor men to ex-plore and experience. A 13year old boy can just walk into a nearbytheatre when he has enough money. Sucha venture would be unthink-able for a girlof the same age. Devaki’s 11 year old sonis working in a cold drinks shop in themain market of Lajpat Nagar. Hisoccu-pation brings him in direct contactwith a world which is closed to a girl ofhis age.

Men work in places where men fromvarious backgrounds come to-gether, andthus have a better chance to understandthe workings of the city and the world atlarge. The possibility of their moving onto more lucrative work, provided it isavailable, is consequently greater.

Men would rather have the womenso enclosed in the dwelling place thatthey have little freedom to interact withthe outside world, particularly with menof the same social class since they posea direct threat to the men’s control overthe sexuality of the women. Theoccupation of a domestic maid exposes awoman to a relationship with an employerwho is usually a woman. Interaction withmale members of the employers’ family isminimised since all the work is doneduring the day when the men are away atwork.

Men actively prevent women fromcoming into contact with the outsideworld. When the two of us went to theirhuts to interview women, men crowdedaround, pre-venting our conversationand hinting that we had a vested interestin interviewing women exclusively. Theyfelt that men could give us more andbetter information. Men even felt insultedbecause we were giving more importanceto women’s lives.

More than that, we sensed an elementof hostility arising from a desire to preventwomen from questioning their lives inrela-tion to those of men When theyfound us asking pointed questionsregarding male female disparity, theycreated a general distur-bance in the

atmosphere, com-pelling us to confineourselves to interviewing women whilethey were working in Lajpat Nagar. Whenwe left the slum, young men evenfollowed us to some distance and passedcomments that were clearly sexualinnuendoes. This was also a clearmessage to the two of us that home waswhere we should be.

Interestingly, we encountered similarhostility from a husband in DefenceColony. We were interviewing his wife inher capacity as an employer. He firstrefused to let us in but when we persisted,reluctantly admitted us. He thenintroduced us to his wife quite bluntly as: “Here’s trouble for you !” Even beforewe could explain our purpose to her, thehus-band admonished her : “You know,you don’t necessarily have to answertheir queries. Think it over well.” The wifeperhaps caught a hint of his displeasurebut chose not to heed it and consentedto the interview.

Shy and hesitant at first, she finallyallowed us to record the inter-view. Bythis time, the husband had left the room.She soon felt relaxed and gave replieseasily. Midway through the interview, thewoman faltered while answering. Weturned around only to find that thehusband had reentered the room. Thistime, he said to her : “You don’t have totell them everything, you know.”Although we had at no point asked anypersonal questions, except her name forthe record which she had declined togive, the husband gave us the impressionthat he was the owner of the house andof everything in it, and that even anyinformation about the maidservantemployed in his house, formed part ofhis “property.”

By now, the wife was visiblyem-barrassed by her husband’sbehavi-our but in genial tones replied thateverything was all right and that we werequite harmless. At one stage of theinterview the woman employer said thatshe occasionally gave her maid milk todrink “on the sly.” Knowing that she andher husband were the only persons inthe house, we enquired whether herhusband would object to her generosityto-wards her servants. At this she hastily

NUMBER THIRTY FIVE, 1986 7

asserted that she had com-plete freedomin the running of the house and herhusband never inter-fered in her sphere.On our leaving the house, the husbandwas most gracious. He assumed the airof a kind patriarch who had allowed usto interview his wife.

ChildrenOn an average, these women have

three children. On an aver-age, they loseone child. Of three offspring born, onlytwo survive. When the number ofchildren born is five, the death toll isthree. This leaves the number ofoffspring equal to the planned familyslogan touted by the government : “Twoor three children.”

There was no significant differencein the numbers of surviving daugh-tersand sons. Most children died betweensix months and two years of birth. A fewdied of chickenpox. But by and large,parents did not know what had causedthe children’s deaths. Even in the twocases where the children had died at theages of eight and 18, the causes werenot known.

The children, when young, usual-lyfollow their mother to her place of work.However, if a daughter is eight years oldand has younger brothers and sisters,she is likely to stay behind to look afterthem.

Valli did not work for money before hermarriage, since she had to take care of heryoung sisters while her mother and eldersisters were at work. Now that she is marriedshe earns, and her sisters are old enough towork along with her.

When he’p is not available from suchsources, women are forced to leave theirchildren near a park in the colony. Toddlersplay around a huge pipal tree all the day long.This exposes them to traffic, and, sincethey eat just about anything that catchestheir eye, they are vulnerable to disease.The nonavailability of help to look afterchildren in their absence forces somewomen to opt out of paid workaltogether. Anjalai is one such. Herhusband has a permanent job so she isin a position to exercise this option. Shemay begin to work as soon as herchildren are old enough or if she findshelp.

When she is eight, the daughterbegins to lend a helping hand to hermother outside their home. She may dothe sweeping in a house where themother works, or help in rinsing theclothes or dishes. By the time a girl is 10or 11, she begins to work independentlyin one household and by the time she is14 or 15, the number of households sheworks for is easily four. This is equal to

the average number of houses anywoman above 40 works in.

By and by, the younger male childrentoo are initiated into domestic work. Theybegin, like girl children, by helping theirsisters or mother, and move on toindependent charge in a few years. Butthey do not stick to domestic work forlong, for, as they grow older, they haveother options.

EducationPoverty is the greatest barrier to

sending children to school. There werecases of children having stu-died up tothe fifth standard, of those who hadgiven up after the second, and of manywho had not been to school at all.However, the opportunities for schoolingshrank on migration. Quite a fewad-mitted that they used to send theirchildren, mainly sons, to school backhome, but discontinued it after movingto Delhi. Chellamma said her younger sonrefused to attend school in Delhi becauseof the use of Hindi while Kulamma’s sonre-tuined because of the hostility heencountered from north Indian fellowstudents and from the teacher. He willstudy when he returns to the village.

Some mothers do not insist on theirchildren going to school as they areapprehensive of the compli-catedprocess of admission which perhaps

Waiting under a tree

8 MANUSHI

requires a birth certificate. Lakshmi,however, is wary of sending her childrento school when they are still young.“Back home”, she says, “we had to fearenor-mous snakes. In the city, you don’tknow when you will be surprised by amoving vehicle.” However, she isdetermined to educate them. Once theyare old enough, she will send all of themto school together.

They also cite poverty as the chiefreason for their lack of interest in thechildren’s education. Lak-shmi, 50,educated her son up to the eighthstandard and one daughter up to thethird. The son did not study further whilethe daughter was required at home tomaintain the house while the parentswent to work. Boys too are recalled fromschool to babysit for younger siblings.

Veeramrna, 24, and Lakshmi, 12, saidtheir parents sent them to school butthey had refused to go. Both regret itnow Lakshmi had refused because shedid not know Hindi which is the mediumof ins-truction in the local municipality-run schools. At a later stage, when sheexpressed her wish to study, her motherqueried : “What are you going to learnnow ?”, implying that she had crossedthe age to be sent to school.

There is no doubt that education willmake some difference in theiremployment opportunities. But if thegirls continue to drop out from school ata young age and enter the domesticservant rut, chances are that their lifeconditions will be no different from theirmothers’.

MarriageMost girls are given away in marriage

after the age of 15. A number of themmarry cross cousins —the emphasis ison marrying within the family. Thedecisions in this regard are usually takenby the parents and the elders of thefamily.

Men, however, enjoy some lati-tudein the choice of mate and often, familiesgave in to this. Chinnapulai categoricallysaid that she would not allow herdaughter to choose her spouse as this is“dirty and vulgar.” However, she would

allow her sons the marriage of theirchoice : “A son can marry 100 womenand they shall all be welcome.”

We came across many migrantparents who sought a match for theirdaughters back home. One said theexpenses of a wedding in Delhi are v atleast Rs 2,000 more than in the village.Another said if they had a daughter backhome, the family could stay with her ontheir visits home and obviate someex-penditure.

The expenses on a daughter’smarriage range from Rs 2,000 to Rs 10,000.The lower limit is suffi-cient for a son’swedding. Generally, nose studs, a silk sariand utensils are given to the daughterby the parents. Sometimes, the in-lawstoo give some small gold ornament.

Traditionally, the bridegroom’s familypaid a brideprice which has declined to acustomary Rs 10.50. Though vestiges ofthis tradition remain, the trend these daysis to ape the middle class practice ofdemanding dowry. Most families save fora daughter’s marriage and even incurhuge debts to fulfil the expectations ofthe bridegroom’s family. Parvati’scomment brought this out clearly : “Youcan count the hair on your head but notthe demands of the in-laws.”

Sometimes, the marriage ex-pensesare borne by the families jointly and wecame across two or three young coupleswho were still paying instalmentstowards repay-ment of loans taken fortheir wed-ding feast.Marriage And Social Freedom

One reason why girls are married at ayoung age is the threat that parentsperceive to their sexual purity. “If adaughter talks to a strange man, tongueswill wag”, said Chinnapulai.

As long as a daughter is un-married,her family assumes res-ponsibility for herchastity. Once she gets married, thischarge is automatically taken over by thehusband.

Unmarried girls and married womenwhose husbands are alive never gobeyond the slums or the colony wherethey work. The likelihood of sexualencounters with men is rare). In contrast,

Veeramma, 24, who has separated fromher hus-band, is an independent woman.Her family has little control over herrelationships and her social mobility.

A few women travel long dis-tancesto reach their workplace. They usuallytravel with their relatives or with womenfrom their own communities. Only Laksmi,a widow of 25, who travels to Old Delhifrom Lajpat Nagar to work, does sowithout censure from the community.Drunkenness And Wife Beating

The women interviewed spoke freelyabout many aspects of their lives. Theyreadily informed us that their husbandsdrank habi-tually, putting aside a smallamount for their drink. But they were lessforthcoming when questioned about theincidence of wife beating. When asked :“Does your husband beat you ?” theyuniformly answered in the negative.

But when one of us put the questiondifferently and asked a group of threewomen : “What do you do when yourhusbands beat you ?”, they said theywere unable to do anything about it.Devaki was beaten frequently by herhus-band for years when he was sittingidle at home, entirely dependent on herwages for survival. She tolerat-ed thisuntil his death a year ago.

They never thought of the possibilityof neighbours restraining a man when heis beating his wife. Wife beating is treatedas a strictly private affair-little more thana man exercising his right over his wife.The women said if anyone intervened hewould say thai he was beating his ownwife and nobody had the right tointervene. There was apparently noargument against this.

When we asked them whether theypreferred sons or daughters weencountered a range of answers. Therewas no ambivalence in their answers butno clearcut preference for children of onegender either. A typical emotionalresponse would be : “Sons and daughterscome from the same womb.” Most statedmatter of factly that they “needed” both.

Even some of those who said that nohelp and care could be expected fromdaughters once they get married, pointed

NUMBER THIRTY FIVE, 1986 9

to the special sympathy a daughtershows for her mother. Kulamma said : “Adaughter sometimes enquires after amother’s well being. A son only questionsthe circumstances in which he findshimself and blames his mother for it.” Shealso added that she “prefers daughtersbut not birthwise.”

Chinnapulai began by saying sheneeds both sons and daughters : “Adaughter will look after me and give me abath when I am ill. But a son will only runaway and play. At the most, on my death,he will spend Rs 100. Whereas a daughtereven after she marries, will come to nurseme... On my death, I am certain mydaughter will weep for 16 days but myson will only throw my body away.” Sheconcluded by preferring daughters.

Parvati, who has three daughters andno sons, said that she could be proudsince she had daughters but that she hadto consider her hus-band’s sorrow sincehe had no son and “boys understand afather’s sorrow while girls understand amother’s sorrow.”

Though women valued the care andaffection given by daughters, there wasa desire for sons due to

the social advantages of having sons.As Chelamma says : “It is the son whowill inherit the burden of debts after me,just as he will have a right to my savings,if I have any.”

Panjavarnam, who has only onedaughter, said that a son could haveperformed the last rites and carried onher husband’s and her name. Thecommon refrain was that a daughter willgo away while a son will stay to earn andsupport his parents in their old age.

IndebtednessA stark fact of their existence is the

persistence of indebtedness. Of the 22households surveyed, 14 are indebted,four have no debts or have repaid theirdebts while no information is availablefor the remaining four. Some peopleincurred debts to survive in times offamine consequent upon failedmonsoons; others to meet marriageexpenses. Some were driven toindebtedness due to the prolongedillness of a member of the family.

The main motivating factor behindmigration was the hope, apart from adesire for a better life, of earning enoughto repay debts. However, migration itselfentailed taking a further loan to cover thepassage to Delhi and to tide them overthe initial months of unemploy-ment orpartial employment.

The rate of interest is very high. Ifland is mortgaged, the produce from itscultivation, which could be millet orgroundnut, serves as the interest.

Once in Delhi, they do succeed inrepaying the loans taken in the villageand retrieveltheir land and hut. However,while repaying pre-vious loans, theysimultaneously incur fresh debts in Delhinecessitated by their regular visits totheir village. Many also undertake longjourneys to pilgrim centres whereexpenditure could include sacrificing agoat and a hen.

Nearly 50 percent of the men work inthe railways and are en-titled to freepasses for their families and themselves.But the trend to visit home once everytwo or three years is common to all. Mostwomen inter-viewed, saved towards thisend. The cost of the passage of their stayfor a fortnight to two months, even whenthey reside with their relatives, is so highthat most have to take a loan. Long aftertheir return to Delhi, they continue to payinstal-ments towards repayment of theseloans.

Most of the loans in Delhi are takenfrom north Indian coworkers or frompeople from their own com-munity.Several families who have been in Delhifor 10 or more years and are drawing asubstantial salary from a permanentgovernment job can afford to lend money.

The rate of interest is usually 10percent on Rs 1,000 per month though it

Parvati

10 MANUSHI

My name is Pattu. I don’t know my age. We are fromKallakurchi taluk in North Arcot district.

I was married at 15. I gave birth to nine children. AH butthree died. What can I say how they died ? Does anyone getto know of children’s illnesses ? They died at the age of oneto four. My eldest child was a son. Second was a daughter.Both died. Third is a girl. She is married and lives with myparents. Fourth and fifth children were daughters. Both diedbefore they were one year old. The sixth child was a son whois now with me in Delhi and the seventh lives with hisgrandparents. My eighth child was a son. He died after thedeath of his father. My ninth and last child was a son. He diedafter coming to Delhi. Don’t know what happened. He vomitteda couple of times one morning and died on the way to thehospital.

We had a little land. My husband went to the forest tocut wood. I stayed at home with my children. But after he diedfour years ago I suffered much hard ship. There was no oneto work on the land. I had small children. What could I, alone woman, do ?

I worked as a landless labourer for four years. I had twobuffalos and sold their milk. But that did not work either. Peoplehad come to Delhi. I came along 10 months ago with my twosons because our neighbour Parvati was here. I joined herhere. She lives with her son. We live in the same hut but cookseparately. But I don’t pay for staying in the hut. To come toDelhi I mortgaged my thatched hut for Rs 300. I have nowretrieved it.

For some months after I came I had only two houses towork in. Now, for the last four months I work in four houses.My son helps me too. Together we earn Rs 350. A large part ofit goes on food. I have saved Rs 200 in the last several months.I contri-bute Rs 150 to the chit fund every month. I have torepay the petty debt incurred when I had no money to buyfood. When I get the chit fund money I will buy new clothesand visit home.

To date I am indebted for Rs 1,000. When my husbanddied I fell ill. I had to mortgage the land for my medication.Now I must pay back and retrieve the land.

I get up at 5 a.m, work in two houses and eat at 9 a.m. Wehang around till 2.30 p.m., when we have to do the secondround of utensils. After that we go home. At home 1 wash the

utensils, fetch water and then cook. What we cook at night webring in the morning for our midday meal.

What can I say whether I like daughters or sons ? Is it inour hands ? People might prefer one to the other. But I wouldsay girls have to live by their labour just like the ‘boys. Wecan’t survive without working. A girl goes away to anotherman’s house. Once we are married our parents would not carefor us as much.

I will go back and bring my son here too. It is all right evenif I die in Delhi. What is one going to do back in the village ?We will do the same work there. We have to struggle to live nomatter where we go. Delhi is better. If not one house one canalways find another. In the village even if you work every dayyou cannot save Rs 10. It is better to be here. One can’t talk ofmonths there. It is enough if each day passes. What wagesdoes one get there ? They give Rs 2. You have to buy rice andspices with it. Can’t take out 10 paise to put aside. And thenwhen one has no work for six months one has to survive onthe millet saved earlier.

They are threatening to raze down our jhonpdi. Don’t knowwhen. We may rent a room for Rs 150. If Parvati is willing I amwilling to live with her. We don’t help each other much, exceptthat if there is any shortage of a commodity we share it. We, ofcourse, share delicacies with each other whenever we makethem.

I am not educated. I have only two children left now. Whatam I going to get by sending them to school ? Maybe it isgood if they go to school.

What sort of life is our life ? And then when we go to sleepat night can we be certain of the morrow ?

(translated from Tamil)

“What Sort of Life isOur Life?”

PROFILE

Pattu

NUMBER THIRTY FIVE, 1986 11

can vary from 5 percent to 25 percent ayear. Most migrant families find it hardenough to pay the interest on theseamounts and often the principal sumremains un-affected despite steadyrepayment over several months.Surprisingly, the petty sums borrowedcasually from fellow hutment dwellerscarried an astronomical rate of interest ;as high as 50 percent. One cannot saywith certainty how widespread thispractice is but we have Pattu’s ac-countof having borrowed Rs 10 for herimmediate household expenses andreturning Rs 15 the following month.

Income And ExpenditureThe family size varies from two to

seven with one to four earning members.On an average, there are two earningmembers and four mouths to feed, in eachfamily. The average income of 22 familiessur-veyed was Rs 600. Women domes-ticservants earn Rs 220 on an ave-rage.Men, if employed, earn any-thingbetween Rs 400 and Rs 800. If the man isunemployed or temporarily laid off, thehousehold runs on the woman’s salary.Among women, Veeramma earned thehighest—Rs 450.

When the children begin to work, theyearn as much as an ave-rage adult. Evenyoung children enable their mother totake on more work by assisting her in thehousework.

Though the average income offamilies is Rs 600, a major part of this isspent on food and monthly instalmentsto the chit fund which is used to repaydebts. If a man earns Rs 700, hecontributes Rs 300 to-wards the familyexpenses. Of the rest, he will probablyspend nearly half on cigarettes, gambling,liquor, or eating out.

The contribution of the husbandtowards the family expenditure can-notbe taken for granted. He may give Rs 200one month, Rs 300 the next and virtuallynothing the following month. The manusually tries to use up his wife’s salary inrunning the household while he reserveshis to contribute towards the chit fund.

Families headed by widows are in abetter position to budget, and even

manage to save regularly. All men,whether employed or depen-dent on theirwife’s income, exercise the right to spendon themselves.

But few women ever have anymoney for personal expenditure.

Depending on the size of the family,20 to 80 kilos of rice are bought everymonth. A few have ration cards whileothers borrow these from their employersto buy rice, sugar and kerosene. This,however, is not always adequate andthey have to buy in the open market. Akilo of rationed rice costs Rs 2 to Rs 2.25and Rs 3 to Rs 3.30 in the open market.

A family spends Rs 5 to Rs 10 daily

are rejected by the main bazaar are soldat the slum colony at cheap rates. If at allany vegetables are used they are halfrotted or stale.

What Is A Fair Wage ?Of the seven women employers

interviewed, not one was an employ-edwoman. This is not typical.Maid-servants are generally hired toclean the utensils and sweep and mopthe house. The number of rooms isusually four to five including theverandah or balcony. Only house wiveswith relative ease and affluence or lessstamina due to advancing age, engagewomen to wash clothes. Others wash theclothes themselves. Most employers hireTamil domestic labour as it appears to bereadily available and not because of anypersonal preference, although oneemployer, Nirmal Kanta, said thatTamilians were easier to “handle.” Whenasked to elaborate, she explained that aTamil maid, with her limited vocabularyand lack of fluency in Hindi, is less likelyto answer back or argue for long.

We found great disparity in thewages these employers pay theirmaidservants. The wage depends less onthe family size and work area and moreon the relative afflu-ence of a locality andthe employer’s monthly budget. Therewas one employer in Defence Colony, aposh locality, who paid her maid Rs 120for two tasks for a four roomed houseand a two member household, whileanother, whose husband is in privateservice, paid Rs 55 for a family of four forthe same tasks. The latter, when askedhow she would react to the maidervant’sdemand of Rs 80 for two tasks, felt itwould disturb her monthly budget andshe might have to cut down on theirentertainment to be able to absorb theraise.

Yet another factor responsible for theanomaly in wages is the barg-ainingpower of the maid. A Tamil maidservantwho has just joined the community ofdomestic servants, will accept a lowerwage to enter the market. An example ofthis was Haijit Kaur’s maidservant whohad migrated recently and could not

The midday meal

on buying oil, spices, pulses, soap,kerosene and other sundries. Only a fewdo daily purchasing. Most buy once aweek or every 10 days.

The quality of food consumed bythese families is very poor. All of themcook once a day in the evening and bringthe leftovers to work, to eat in theafternoon the next day. This foodconsists of boiled rice and gravy. Thegravy could be sambar or rasam.Vegetables are not generously used sincethey are expensive. Often, vegetables that

12 MANUSHI

speak or understand Hindi. They own atyre retreading shop and pay the maidRs 60 for two tasks per-formed twice dailyfor a family of six and a four roomedhouse.

The maidservants’ idea of a fair wageis Rs 40 for each task. At present, theyget Rs 25 to 40 for one, Rs 60 for two andRs 100 for three tasks. If a maid washesutensils and cleans the premises in onehouse, she is likely to receive less wagesthan if she does the first task in one houseand the second task in another house.Manufactured goods are cheaper whenbought in bulk but to apply this rule tophysical labour is atrocious, because thecosts in time and energy do not decreasefor the maidservant when she does moretasks than one.

Working ConditionsThe notion of a fair wage is a

subjective one. One Tamil employer,whose husband works in a privateconcern, pays Rs 55 for cleaning utensilstwice daily and cleaning the floors oncedaily, for a family of four adults and afour roomed house. She tried to prove tous that this was a fair wage because shewas not satisfied with the quality of thework. Also, she had raised the wage byRs 20 three months ago, and maids inMadras charge only Rs 55.

She admitted that to pay the maidmore would upset her budget. She saidshe would increase the wage to Rs 65only if the quality of work improved andthe maid had put in one and a half years.

Kailash Batra who pays Rs 60 for twotasks for a family of two and a fourroomed house, said she was merelypaying the maid “the prevalent rate.” Themaid works in her house from 6 a.m. to7.30 a. m. every day. She felt that Rs 2 aday was a square deal.

Prakash Sethi, who pays her maid, agirl of 13, Rs 100 to perform two tasks fora family of seven, said she thought thewages reasonable but added:“Considering the poverty of thesemaidservants, these are not sufficient. Nowage would be really fair.” Her maid hadasked for an increase but Prakashrefused. She told the maid to do as much

work as she can. Prakash and herdaughter-in-law do the rest. Prakash’shusband and daughter-in-law, both ingovernment jobs, are the two earningmembers of the family.

Of the seven employers we spoke to,three admitted to getting extra work doneby their maids. For this, they usually payin kind or with a rupee or two in cash.This petty work is not easy to define. Awoman employer, when unwell, may askthe maid to wash clothes, grind spices orchop vegetables. Maids often have tocope with unexpected guests.

The maids generally have two hoursto spare between their morn-ing andafternoon rounds. The hope of earningan extra rupee or two besides theobligation they feel towardslongstanding employers, prompt them toaccept extra work. Some maidservantsearn about Rs 10 a month for such extrawork.

It is customary in many house-holdsto give tea and a snack to the maidservantdaily, although this is not part of the workcontract. But most maids cannot dependon this food, so nearly all of them fetchfood from home for their first meal of theday. The dependence on food given bythe employer, even if par-tial, renders themaid vulnerable to the vagaries of theemployer’s moods, and is more often thannot related to the availability of left-oversin the employer’s kitchen. The employers,without exception, derive satisfactionfrom occasionally giving food to themaids, and interpret this as an altruisticact.

Only when a maid has worked for atleast a year in a household does she askfor a Divali sari. This is one perk that mostemployers give their Tamil maids, someto respect their sentiments, othersbecause they want to keep the maidsatisfied. The objective is to estab-lish abond apparently outside the purelyeconomic contract, but this bond has infact a direct bearing on the contract. It isthis bond which prevents the maid fromopting out of a longstanding job and theemployer from dismissing her. But thistie works to the economic disadvantage

of the maid because the increments sheis given never bring her wage on par withthe wage demanded by and given to newent-rants in the maidservant market.

Most employers would like theirmaids to feel grateful to them. Theysubtly use extras to ensure pliancy. Whenthis is not forth-coming, as when a maidrefuses to stay overtime to «ope with extrawork or unexpected guests, em-ployersare offended. One employer was quick tolabel them namak haram (not true to theirsalt, un-grateful) and self centred.

LeaveWhen they take a job, most

maidservants agree to take off two daysin a month. Most of them said Ihey wouldlike the number of holi-days to beincreased to four. The em-ployers saythat on an average the maids do take offfour days a month. Occasionally,employers threaten to sack servants ordeduct wages for the period taken off. Inactuality, no one executes this threat. Oneemployer said that four days off wouldinconvenience the employer and it is afterall for their convenience that people hiremaids.

Since the upkeep of the house is theresponsibility of the housewife, nearlyall housewives take on the work of themaidservant on her day off. This meansthat apart from her daily routine whichincludes cooking, washing clothes,dusting the house, packing off thechildren and, husband to work, ahousewife has to wash the utensils andsweep and mop the floor.

If there are other women in thefamily—girl children, daughters-in-law,mother-in-law—there is some likelihoodof the work responsibility being shared.One employer said, when she is unwell,she usually gives some other Tamil maidRs 2 to do the job for that day.

No housewife ever contemplatesreceiving any help in this work from themale members. Two housewives, livingwith their husbands, when ask-edwhether they did the entire work of themaidservant on their own, innocentlyqueried: “But who else is there in thehouse ?” The husband was never

NUMBER THIRTY FIVE, 1986 13

perceived as a potential helpmate bythese women.

Prakash Sethi said : “Men areinexperienced in housework so theycannot be asked to help.” But she alsoadmits that she herself is to blame for nothaving inculcated in her sons the habitof sharing the housework—for which heremployed daughters-in-law now have tosuffer.

The Tamil employer we inter-viewedsaid that she did the work on her own theday her maid took leave and she did not“require” help. It seems that women arenot willing to own up even tothem-selves, how much they have tophy-sically exert themselves in order tolive up to the image of an efficienthousewife.

Most maidservants wanting to take aday off, inform their employ-ersbeforehand. This is acceptable toemployers. The employers inter-viewedunderstood the reasons whymaidservants take leave beyond theinformally agreed upon two days, or takeleave without intimation. Thissympathatic reaction was moreforthcoming from elderly employers whosaw themselves as equally susceptibleto sudden illness.

Miss B K Mehta, whose family ownsa shoe factory, said that she re-gularlygave or recommended medi-cine to hermaidservants as this was in her own “selfinterest.” If a maid-servant with a tummyupset or headache is not given timely andpreventive medical care^ chances are thatthe ailment will continue and confine themaid to bed for the next few days. “It is inmy interest to see that they do not fall illfor long”, she explained. The employerfrom Defence Colony gave milk to hermaid when the latter appeared fatiguedwhile another exempted her from moppingthe floor or washing the xlothes on somedays of the month:

hoisework is the housewife’sresponsibility, by hiring a maid she is onlymaking another do what she herselfwould otherwise have to do. Therefore,it is she who has to ensure that the workis done satisfactorily. Manymaidservants view their women

employers as hard taskmasters who areconstantly complaining about the qualityof work and are stingy.

A study of the woman employersshowed that most housewives have atight budget within which they have tospend judiciously. The expenditure on thehousework (in the form of wages and thecost of washing powder, broom ordetergent) usually takes a back seat toaccom-modate essential items like milk,fruit, vegetables for the family. So it is

chiefly the housewife who is viewed withhostility by the maid.

Men come into the picture when thematter falls outside the orbit ofhousework. In one instance, thehus-band of the employer threatened tohit a young maidservant who worked intheir house because a gold ring was lost.He heaped filthy abuses on her,threatened to report her to the police andeven tried bribing her into disclosingwhat she had done with the ring. The

14 MANUSHI

woman employer played a passive role inthe drama. Since the house andeverything in it belongs to the man, hecan assume the role of master even whenthe maidservant has been hired by thehousewife and not by the husband.

Employer’s PrejudicesA general comment of employers was

that Tamil domestic servants are dirty intheir appearance. The employers weinterviewed said that their maidservantswere sufficiently clean but admitted thatthe girls in their early teens have filthyhands and runny noses. Asked whatattempts they had made to ensure theirmaidservants’ personal hygiene, somesaid they allowed them the use of thebathroom to bathe and wash clothes.Most gave them a separate cake of soap.The young girls were asked to wash theirface, hands and feet before beginning towork.

The slum where the women live is halfa kilometre from their workplace. Most ofthem come at 7 a.m. and leave after 4.30p.m. During the day, when they wish toease themselves, they usually go to thehouse of an employer whom they havepreviously assessed to be leni-ent. A fewemployers outright refuse the use of theirlavatory. One em-ployer said they left itunclean after use. She allowed them tourinate but not to defecate in her lavatory.Another said : “They are also humanbeings. Being women, we know that theyneed to use the toilet on some days inthe month. I don’t forbid her to use it, butask her to pour pheneol after use.”

Quite a few said their maids neverused the toilet. They said it was possiblethe maid used the toilet without lettingthem know of it. They also said theywould not re-fuse such a request. But wegot the impression that none of them waswilling to grant the use of the toilet as aright to the maid.

Instances of employers having firedmaids to replace them by new ones arefew, but since the stage for the interactionbetween the employer and employee isprivate rather than public, there is scopefor harass-ment by the employer in theform of abuses, baseless accusations and

frequent dressing down. If manyemployers get away with such behaviour,it is partly because the maidservant isalone and defenceless and the dramatakes place within the four walls of theemployer’s house.

Some maids did complain of constantheckling by the employers but, by andlarge, the maidservants and employerssomehow mutually understood eachother’s circumstances. Mostmaidservants recalled instances ofemployers’ kindness, of stitching clothesfor them from cloth given by the maid orgiving curd instead of tea if the maidcom-plained of an upset tummy. Of theseven employers interviewed, five werevery pleased with their maids’ work andemphasised that they found themtrustworthy.

We wanted to know from theemployers whether they knew theconditions which forced these women tomigrate from their far off villages to comein search of work. Most admitted thatthey did make such enquiries. KailashSharma, whose husband retired fromgovernment service some years ago, saidthat she had visited her maidservant’sslum colony in Trilokpuri when the maiddid not report for work for a few days.She found that her maid needed medicalcare but had not visited the hospital as itwould involve some expenditure. Shepro-mptly parted with Rs 50 on the spot.She also said that when she confrontedthe Jife of deprivation these women leadshe felt like “filling the gap.” She lavishedmuch praise on her maid though at thesame time she spoke very critically ofTamil maids in general —of their beingbelligerent women, prone to using filthylanguage, dirty, petty thieves and so on.Each time we asked if her maid exhibitedany of these qualities, she replied in thenegative. The charges were general andher maid was “excellent”, and an“exception.” “Her care for me exceedswhat my mother would lavish upon me”,she conceded.

However, the contradiction in whatshe knew about her Tamil maid from herexperience as an em-ployer and the

picture of Tamil women which emergedfrom her strong condemnation of them,was not apparent to her. Her accountbetrayed a deepseated prejudice notsusceptible to logical examination. Forinstance, she vouched for her maid’scleanliness and took help from her inchopping vegetables. At the same time,she did not permit the maidservant toenter her kitchen though the same maidwashes her utensils.

Preference For DelhiDespite the heavy odds against their

living with dignity in Delhi, these women,by and large, wish to continue living here.Returning to the village could well mean“starving to death”, as Panjavarnamstated categorically.

Yashoda, who came to Delhi after hermarriage two years ago, remembers thatin the village they ate only when therewas food. When there was none they justwent hun-gry. But in Delhi, “There isalways food to be had.” Chellamma toofeels that Delhi at least ensures food andclothing.

But some long for a life in the villagewhere they could live off a piece of landof their own. As Nachi says : “It wouldbe difficult if one had to wash dishes inDelhi for ever. It would be good if wecould buy land and run our family in thevillage.” Taya feels that she has to workwith her hands for daily wages wherevershe goes, and no place offers enough tobe able to save for the future.

Women with husbands havingpermanent jobs with the government donot contemplate leaving Delhi at all. Butthose women whose hus-bands are stillin temporary jobs feel less secure abouttheir future, The same is true of widows.Devaki, who lost her husband a yearago,would have liked to return to thevillage since she feels that there one canchoose not to work for ten days if one isunwell but here one just cannot. In thevillage one can sur-vive on a rupee butin Delhi one needs not less than Rs 10for a day’s food. But even she does notcontemplate leaving Delhi as there is ‘noone to support her in the village. It seemsstrange that she feels unsupported in her

NUMBER THIRTY FIVE, 1986 15

The story of the suspension ofassistant subinspector Jugti Ram,provides an insight into one possiblereason for the growing tendency of theIndian police to repress their humaneinstincts. Jugti Ram, who hails from avillage in Haryana, has been undersuspension, receiving half pay, sinceNovember 1984 when he helped rescueand protect some Sikh women andchildren during the riots.

On November 2, 1984, Jugti Ram wason duty at block 20, Trilokpuri. At about 8p.m., two men came to request police helpto escort about 50 women and childrenfrom village Chilla, where they had soughtrefuge when Trilokpuri was attacked, to arelief camp.

Jugti Ram took the men to DCPSevadas and ACP Malhotra and askedfor a CRP vehicle and some policemen.These officers were not interested intaking action and told Jugti Ram not toact overcoura-geous. When he insistedon the need to go to the rescue of thevictims, they told him he could go but onhis own responsibility, and warned himthat he would risk getting the van burnt.

Jugti Ram proceeded to Chilla, withsome junior policemen, and brought the

women and children to Kalyanpuri reliefcamp. After this, he continued on duty allnight. But when he reached the policestation next morning, he found to hisamazement that he had been sus-pended.

The charges against him were vaguelyworded as “insubordina-tion” and“indiscipline.” Jugti Ram was thoroughlybewildered and pleaded with variousauthorities, all to no avail. He foundhimself isolated and ignored. Even hisneighbours, because of the generallyprevalent mistrust of policemen, think hemust have been involved in somecorruption case. He and his family facegreat financial hardship.

The report presented by DCP Sharma,appointed to enquire into the case, foundthat Jugti Ram is innocent, but he remainedunder suspension. Many of the womenand children whom he rescued and whoare now in Tilak Vihar, are ready to givestatements, but the police have notapproached them.

What is interesting in this case is howspeedily the machinery moves to punishanyone who takes initiative in saving liveswhile it is completely inert when requiredto restrain those who are bent uponmassacre.

The Story Of A Humane Policeman Stop Press : Jugti Ram was reinstatedin July but legal proceedings against himcontinue.

Without CommentThe following two news items

appeared on page 7 of Indian ExpressJuly 12, 1986 :

India eleventh poorest nation Indiaremains the eleventh poorest country inthe world with a per capita gross nationalproduct of $ 260—Not only is thecountry’s per capita income one of thelowest, but it is growing at a meagreannual rate of 1.6 percent compared toChina (4.5 percent), Sri Lanka (2.9per-cent) and Pakistan (2.5 percent)... Lifeexpectancy at birth, which is simply thenumber of years a new-born infant canbe expected to live, is placed at 56 yearsfor India as compared to 70 years for SriLanka and 69 years for China...

Govt. to import latest revolvers Thegovernment is planning to import latestrevolvers to equip officers up to the levelof assistant subinspector of police. Thisis a part of the government scheme toequip police and paramilitary forces withthe modern weapons... The home ministryis informing the state governments aboutthe avail-ability of sophisticatedequipment to enable them to placepurchase orders....

home village where her relatives wouldbe around but more secure in Delhi whereshe is all by herself. One possibleexplanation could be that being a widow,her brothers-in-law back home wouldexercise some control over hermovements and activities without acorresponding offer of support.

Valarmadi and Ramchandran havebeen in Delhi for a year and a half. Theyhad come in the hope of earning enoughto repay their debts and making enoughmoney to go home, and are still hope-fuland determined to return in three or fouryears.

Aspirations And DreamsHaving come to Delhi “to survive”,

many women have begun to . perceive

the drudgery that they have to gothrough to attain this end. There is adesire for a better deal from life and it isexpressed in many ways.

Elamarichi, 15, said she would gladlystudy if she could, and that this wouldmake her very happy. She said trinketstoo make her happy. Lakshmi, 14, whobe^an to work at the age of eight, whenasked about the number of holidays shewould like to have, said that she wouldlike to have a holiday every day but, “If Idon’t work I won’t be paid, and if I amnot paid I won’t be able to eat. Therefore,I must work.”

Valli complained that her pre-sentwork was very difficult. She expressedthe desire to do some other work if it were

possible but she did not specify whatshe would like to do. Elamarichi believedone could escape hard work if one wereeducated. “One has to do manual labourto survive if one is not educated.”

Yashoda saw the birth of child-ren asthe primary source of trouble andjestfully suggested that men and womenshould be put in two sepa-rate rooms atall times and released only to eat. Whiledreaming of a life without debts, shevisualised a world where all—men,women and children—could live withoutwork-ing, and where money just droppedfrom the sky to ensure their happi-ness.But she also expressed a desire to be bornagain—in a family where she would nothave to work manu-ally for a living