George Menezes

At a recent paper-leaked-out SSC examination, the Geography section had an interesting question. “Where is Bandra located?”
All those who answered Chhatisgarh or Jharkhand were given full marks.

Now there is no need to get agitated because your child got it wrong. Obviously he doesn’t live in Bandra and hasn’t seen millions of adivasis from the above two States crawling all over Bandra in locust like formation.

It appears that over the years some dear and Rev. Sisters have found them jobs in hundreds of households as domestic help. They come in various shapes sizes and colors. But they are mostly young women and their mostly Catholic.

Opinions differ about them. They’re called rogues, scoundrels, immoral, thieves, lazy bums and dimwits. A few of them may fit these labels. After all they are uneducated village girls. Gold and cash lying around are a temptation. Holes in your expensive dress may be discovered after ironing. The dirty dog may land up in your washing machine and your wet slippers in your microwave oven.

But most of them do not deserve the labels I mentioned. They learn fast, are basically honest, extremely clean and very soon are able to produce a good masala “armlet” for breakfast” and some decent “cutlasses” for lunch

Statistics also reveal that liars, thieves, lazy and drunken bums, scoundrels and immoral characters among the sahibs and memsahibs out number the adivasi girls by 100 to 1.

Today I am writing about the time when the old girl had her kidney transplant. Her immunity was low and she was so fragile that we had to be very careful about infections and prevention of rejection of the transplanted kidney.

She was isolated in one bedroom and we had access to her with a masks on our faces and gloves on our hands.
Tina, our adivassi maid, was heaven sent. Heaven being the house of a friend of ours from where she came.

Thin, dark, strong, as clean as a pin, she worked hard, was thoroughly reliable and a splendidly quick learner. And when she laughed she tilted her head to one side as if the head was fixed on hinges

In the year of her retirement from the French Trade Commissioners Office the old girl couldn’t have asked for more.

So why does Tina want to go on a morcha? Well, that’s what she came to tell us one rainy Sunday morning.

She doesn’t know. She only knows that the Rev. Sisters have asked 1000 of them to assemble at the Azad maidan. Buses will be provided for the return journey.

Tina is scared. Will there be violence, she asks. I assure her that all will be well. I also tell her that I had once been a speaker at one such Morcha years ago. That brings a smile to her innocent face. I then explain to her all about the rights of domestic workers and the Industrial Disputes Act 1947. Her attitude to the ID act is the same as that of my German boss when I had explained it to him on his first arrival in India in 1970. Total dismay and disbelief !

But Tina doesn’t like any of the laws. The minimum wage figure would mean that her salary would be reduced. Did the phrase “job security” mean that she was not free to seek new employment at the drop of a hat or the drop a precious imported serving dish? What about tooth paste and soap, gold bangles for Christmas and sarees for New Year.?

I give her the bus fare, money for snacks and ask her to get answers to questions at the Morcha.

The old girl is angry, always a gentle anger, that I’ve shifted my Personnel Manager’s role from my office to the house. “You should not encourage the empowerment of domestic help. You never know what demands they will make” she says.

I know she’s not serious about what she’s saying. Nobody I know is more sympathetic to those who work for us as she is. Her nature is not to be demonstrative. I am over demonstrative and one such person is enough in a household of two.

Hours later Tina returns with none of her questions answered,

And regrettably, much more downtrodden than when she had left for Azad Maidan.

It seems it rained heavily and she was drenched to the skin looking as sad as a wet hen. The speeches were in Marathi. And to crown everything, a corrupt and nasty policemen had stopped the bus at Mahim Causeway and collected Rs 10 from each of the passengers before allowing them to proceed.

When they arrived in Bandra and got off the bus Tina had made a little speech as a result of which she was elected as the leader of the girls that had got off the bus,

She’s fascinated with Morchas. In fact she is planning a Morcha. Maybe more than a Morcha. One against The Rev. Sisters who wasted their holiday, and one against The Police Traffic Department

The old girl was all smiles. That’s the way to go she said.