Election Day. All ready to vote and get a flu shot.
Four years ago I was in Mumbai. My host came and said,"Obama won. Distribute the sweets. The driver is waiting downstairs." I pick up my bag and rush to Brijvaasi Sweets in Juhu shopping Center. I buy the whole lot of Gulabjamuns and laddoos and come back.
The family cook is Nillamma. She is from Karnatak and comes around eleven in the morning. Her kitchen is the meeting place for all other maids in the building. They finish their morning work and congregate in Nilamma's kitchen. Since the guest room is across the corridor from the kitchen I am aware of all the activities, chatter and laughter. It is confluence of many languages, Tulu, Marathi, Hindi and Telegu. I go to the kitchen and give each woman a laddoo.
"What is is? Grandma?" one woman asks," Puja prasad?"
"No. A good man has become the President of America."
Now, they all know about me and my stay in America. It is a land of cold and snow, of English and McDonald.
They are amazed.
" Married?"
"Yes. to a very nice woman." I say.
"Children?"
" Yes. Two daughters."
They are satisfied. They eat their laddoos and go off.
Four years later.
Same kitchen, same women." Why are you leaving so early?" Shanta asks.
" I have to vote. A woman this time. A grandmother."
They know that a woman canbe the President and the Prime Minister of a country. India had both. but they donot know American mindset.
" If she wins, I'll give you all new saris."
They laugh happily.
I've often thought about them. These women who live nearby in slum dwellings. They were rehabilitated. The government built one bedroom, kitchen and indoor toilet apartments for the, but they have rented them out, built new shanties and moved back into the slum. They work hard cleaning the houses and washing dishes. Most men beat them regularly, snatch their money and blow it on drinks.
"Such is our fate." says Yashoda. She is educating her sons. She has hopes for a better future for them. Three days later she is dead, of undiagnosed Dengue fever.
Four years ago I was in Mumbai. My host came and said,"Obama won. Distribute the sweets. The driver is waiting downstairs." I pick up my bag and rush to Brijvaasi Sweets in Juhu shopping Center. I buy the whole lot of Gulabjamuns and laddoos and come back.
The family cook is Nillamma. She is from Karnatak and comes around eleven in the morning. Her kitchen is the meeting place for all other maids in the building. They finish their morning work and congregate in Nilamma's kitchen. Since the guest room is across the corridor from the kitchen I am aware of all the activities, chatter and laughter. It is confluence of many languages, Tulu, Marathi, Hindi and Telegu. I go to the kitchen and give each woman a laddoo.
"What is is? Grandma?" one woman asks," Puja prasad?"
"No. A good man has become the President of America."
Now, they all know about me and my stay in America. It is a land of cold and snow, of English and McDonald.
They are amazed.
" Married?"
"Yes. to a very nice woman." I say.
"Children?"
" Yes. Two daughters."
They are satisfied. They eat their laddoos and go off.
Four years later.
Same kitchen, same women." Why are you leaving so early?" Shanta asks.
" I have to vote. A woman this time. A grandmother."
They know that a woman canbe the President and the Prime Minister of a country. India had both. but they donot know American mindset.
" If she wins, I'll give you all new saris."
They laugh happily.
I've often thought about them. These women who live nearby in slum dwellings. They were rehabilitated. The government built one bedroom, kitchen and indoor toilet apartments for the, but they have rented them out, built new shanties and moved back into the slum. They work hard cleaning the houses and washing dishes. Most men beat them regularly, snatch their money and blow it on drinks.
"Such is our fate." says Yashoda. She is educating her sons. She has hopes for a better future for them. Three days later she is dead, of undiagnosed Dengue fever.
