On my wedding-eve, my father reminded me that academic brilliance by itself would have nothing much to do in real life. “You may win a gold medal in university but may not even count a copper in society,” were his words. No one can impart certain traits like getting along with people; one has to learn it all oneself. He instructed me to keep my mind open to learn from others anything that is good, and adapt it suitably for my own situation. I still cherish his words.
My new guru is my maid. Shanti is dark-complexioned, middle-aged, of medium build and average height, with lustrous eyes and a bright smile all the time. On the whole she is beautiful. Her husband, on the contrary, is fat and very ordinary looking. She has practically no use for him; except that she has had three children through him. He picks up odd jobs and gets good sums of money — that he spends immediately on drinking. He takes up no financial or physical responsibility in running the family. Shanti takes him as just another kid in the family with absolutely no complaints.
Shanti works in five houses through the day, amidst her own daily chores such as cooking, washing and shopping for day-to-day necessities. She also has to pump out buckets of water for the needs of her home from a hand-pump on the street. God knows how she brought up her two daughters and a son, gave them a decent education and conducted their marriages, all essentially by herself.
Shanti lives opposite my apartment complex and her activities are quite transparent for everyone to see. At the crack of dawn she crosses our gate with a bunch of flowers for the elderly woman staying alone in my block. She works in four houses including mine and then gallops to that of a north Indian family a little distance away. Shanti is always cheerful and happy faced wherever she is. She keeps her cool with her jovial nature and will be ready with a laugh. She gets along well with the elderly lady who constantly tests her with her nagging and probing questions, and with the working couples who chase her up all the time to finish the chores quickly. While in my house she will talk with understanding about the north Indian lady who she says would find it tough without her to prepare breakfast on time for the big family, or how the husband is managing the house downstairs without his wife who has gone home for delivery.
Such a kind soul she is, but she will turn into a devil if she spots laziness anywhere. Be it the watchman, sweeper, toilet-cleaner or civic worker, she would take him to task if he is at fault. As though she is the manager of the apartment complex, she would defend the residents and get things done with a commendable sense of duty and involvement. And a moment later, Shanti will patch up and be friendly again with the same person she was pitted against. When I ask her how she does it, she will wink.
Whether it has to do with the ration shop or the LPG supply agency or the civic body, Shanti is the spokesperson for the entire area. She knows no niceties and will call a spade a spade. Seeing her take the initiative, others in higher stations of life will get the drive and enthusiasm. Shanti never sits and broods or gets depressed. She doesn’t worry about the past, the present or the future. Both her daughters were widowed around the age of 26 and both have a child each.
Shanti stands like a pillar to all her three children. She helps raise the little ones. She got one of her widowed daughters married again, and took care of the new-born. Her husband meanwhile fell sick and was hospitalised. To cap it all, around the same time she lost her only source of support: her mother. Earning just a few thousand rupees a month, she managed all the crises. She doesn’t let personal tragedies come in the way of her work. There are no laments anywhere to evoke sympathy or extract money. She does not visit temples or godmen to cry her heart out.
Shanti is simple, uneducated and ruthless, but her clear thinking and practical outlook leaves me astounded forever. She is comrade, champion, task-master and above all a brave woman. Most men in her position would have been shattered. Shanti garners every atom of strength and stands like a heroine to my eyes.
Every time I see her, my father’s words echo inside me. He once told me: “It is not that people do not have problems. But some refuse to worry about them.” Yes, Shanti is determined to live joyfully whatever befalls her, and she has won many hearts in her own way. A woman to be celebrated indeed!
(v.ramesh1955@gmail.com)
Keywords: Shanti, women issues
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