An elder brother from Jabalpur(these are as valid relations as those by birth), who is a retired doctor posted a poem on Facebook on 27 May 2020. His poem expressed that women who take up jobs do not do justice to highest position of women, motherhood and various relations of women. They are engrossed in making money and their greed of money is at the cost of relationships. Men by default do outside work and hinted women ought not to follow or compete with men. At least I should not flinch that people can still think in such patriarchal terms. My head has been continuously churning the layers of construction that has gone into it. But I posted on his wall — ‘it is a beautiful poem but one sided. I would try to write about this in leisure. Doubt that I will be able to cover the complete story but no harm trying.’ There is not going to be any leisure so the time is now. When he replied with a note ‘see the wordings: see Rupoyon ke laalach me (in greed of money)’. My impromptu response was, ‘Who is a farmer? Boye jote kate dhaan khet kaa malik vahi kisaan (one who puts seeds, sows and cuts is the farmer owner of the field — this slogan was used in Bodhgaya struggle for bonded labourers in mid 70s) all work done by women. What greed of money do they work for?’ He replied this is not for you, you enjoy the poem.
Thanks to that poem I took to writing some basic understanding and oh yes I enjoy this.
I am not here to state how female headed households made its way into Census of India account, that is a long history to it. Such an attempt to erase history of working women in post lockdown period is because there would be lesser jobs so why not send women to the domestic space, the love of being mothers. This strategy too is age old but I doubt those who do it are even aware of what is being done. Nothing women have achieved has been without struggle. I might as well start a campaign for having an identity as woman and woman alone. Oh, but that was started when AIWC (All India Women’s Committee) members went to demand for voting rights, not as wives, mothers, daughters but as women, in 1917. But, making of mothers, started eons of years ago! Making of greatness of mothers even before that!
We all love stories. So here I go with some of my experiences where I do not have to validate anything. I wish to acknowledge though, I will state nothing that has not been said earlier, even if it is not got written or said, it has definitely been done time and again since time immemorial.
My mother whom I would call Amma, Matti, Manni, was a working woman in 1955 to 1961. Working woman, feel like laughing at myself, oh well, she had a paid job of telephone operator. She got married in 1956 when she was twenty seven and had babies in 1957, 1958, 1960 and 1961. She gave up the job after her last pregnancy as it was a difficult on her health. At home she used to cook and wash buckets full of clothes as it was a joint family, but working at home does not qualify to become a working woman. In a house full of many members she was the invisible person. In 1966 Baba, my father had a major accident with head injury in which he lost his taste and smell. He was advised to avoid travelling so he applied for a quarter near the office, Madhya Pradesh Electricity Board, Rampur, Jabalpur where we shifted on 14 August 1966. Once the living was settled in the quarter Amma continued doing things for earning from home, like stitching, selling books. Baba got a house made in a cooperative mode where we moved in 1969. She started a crèche at home when in 1973 another working woman, an architect in MPEB, who had diabetes got to know that she had conceived, came to Amma for support. Amma committed to her that she will take care of the baby. Working women who came to Amma for their children were more her daughters during that period than at least me.
The joint family constituted of Mummum, my grandmother, my grandfather(who died in 1961) my father, his three brothers (one died in 1960), and three sisters in that home in Wright Town, Jabalpur. Baba and Pishi, my aunt who did not get married, were earning members of the family. I do not remember Amma going out for work but we sisters all have memories of Pishi working. Two of Baba’s sisters were married, Lapishi, the third aunt lived in Satna Building and Boropishi, the eldest of all of them, who was working in Railways, lived on Ridge road. My grandfather died when I was four. I have heard famous stories about him not being able to keep a job. It was Baba’s initiative we moved from joint family to unit. If fact he encouraged and supported my Kakamoni, his younger brother to move to Bhopal for job in 1964. They, neither of the brothers, cut the umbilical cord with the family. My Kakamoni used to support the remaining family and my mother financially without any ado.
My family has a way of distracting me from any topic I am writing. I am trying to write about working women and motherhood. Sure enough the family tries to get attention pertaining to various family matters which is everything under the sky. I am not able to build any relation of motherhood or fatherhood to the status of working woman or man. From day one I was born I slept with Mummum. That four feet nothing woman was the backbone of the family. I saw most things through her eyes. She called my mother Bou-ma, an address reserved for daughter-in-law. I too called my mother Bou-ma ten years of my life. I could see my mother’s invisibility even when she was doing a lot of work around the home. I was probably a feminist even at that young age even though not knowing the concept or the word. I had four women mothering me, my mother had the least say and my grandmother the most, my Pishi was second and Etu, my other aunt played a supporting role. Chhoto my youngest aunt I considered younger than me even though she was ten years older than me, the equation was she was youngest in her generation and I was eldest in mine except my Didibhai (elder sister, My eldest aunt’s first child) who was a quiet person. I was extremely fortunate to be mothered by my uncles too with immense love, all three of them gave something to me to become what I am, compassion from Kakamoni, sportsmanship from Monikaka and fearlessness from Chhutkaku, unconditional love and a safe childhood from all of them. During my childhood I have the imprint of two working women Pishi and Boropishi, one unmarried and the other married.
Even though women working outside home, was a naturally accepted part of my growing up, this needs to be written in black and white, and iridescent colours, so the confusion about women working and earning outside homes is cleared and the contribution of women to the so called national economy becomes visible. Both my aunts and my mother started jobs when they were around 21–22, my aunts in 1946 and my mother in 1950. My aunts joined the Ration Office under Civil Supplies Department but later they both probably got posting in separate departments (neither are alive for me to confirm this), my Boropishi in Railways and Pishi in Post and Telegraph. Amma on the other hand joined Telephones. For selection there were tests but according to her women got jobs as there were not many applying and their handwriting was good.
https://fcs.up.gov.in/Important/History-en.aspx 29.05.2020/11.47 p.m.
In my maternal house initially only my Bodo Mama (eldest maternal uncle) earned after Dadu’s retirement. Eldest Mashi (Amma’s eldest sister was ten years older and married after clearing class ten even though she was good in studies. Class ten was lot of studies. My mother started teaching in a school after they migrated to West Bengal due to partition and continued with her studies. Soon she got the government job along with my Phoolmashi, younger sister of Amma, who continued to work after my mother’s marriage till Monimashi, another of my mother’s sisters was able to contribute for two sisters and a brother were still studying. I am barely addressing working women in two families in India soon after independence.
I married in 1972 soon after clearing class eleven, had two boys thereafter, shifted to Delhi in 1976 from Mumbai with a stopover at Adipur where my father-in-law lived and in 1978 first time took a job in a school where my kids were going near the home where we resided in Kirti Nagar after shifting from South Patel Nagar, both suburbs of Delhi. The boys were 6 and 5 years then. The Principal, a nice woman, told me to apply for the librarian cum helping teacher post in that particular branch. I went with one single sheet application where there were so many applicants with folders of different shapes and sizes. In India where we have 100 schools 20 colleges and 5 jobs (the ratio is a hypothetical comparison), the number of people coming even for underpaid jobs is beyond imagination. I not only got the job but also the choice of placement in the school where the kids were studying. I needed the job for practical reasons. In a city where everything comes with payment, where even the basic requirements cannot be produced, so income is required. I was not socialized well in patriarchy so could not sit back and wait for the man I had married to provide, moreover there were two kids to feed. He had started a business without any financial backing. Why I got the job above so many candidates, I have no clue. I was Higher Secondary pass with no teaching experience. I never met the interviewer who was probably the owner of the school after the interview. I was twenty one then. In 1984 I started to study to give exams thanks to my younger sister who suddenly realized while doing her Ph D that I did not have degrees. I took jobs with intermittent breaks. My three sisters studied, got jobs, married, had children and are still continuing with their jobs.
Thanks to being away from my mother the first day of being born and joint mothering I learnt that there is no attachment required in any relation of love. I did give birth but thankfully did not mother the boys born to me. I was just one adult around them so they did not hurt themselves, were fed and kept dry as infants, and was around till they became adults and ready to have lives of their own. When the younger one did not want to keep relation as he had adopted Christianity, the sky did not break on me. I am filled with wonder each day that the elder one has such a loving considerate relation with me.
I am not concerned whether women become mothers or not, take jobs or not, do paid work or unpaid, it is a choice, right to decide which they give themselves.
