Our Mindset Episode 31
I didn’t answer any of Bhabhi’s questions. I knew she was testing me. She was genuinely concerned about me and my children. That evening, Mami’s eldest daughter called. She was kind-hearted and always spoke to me with warmth. Among Mami’s five children, her two daughters and eldest son never hurt me. In fact, the eldest son, despite being older than me, used to call me “Nandatai.” But Mangu and his younger sister always looked down on me.
She asked, “Are you and the kids doing okay? Are you managing at the farm? I’ll come to see you when I visit.” While talking, I mentioned to her that even after working for eight days, Mami hadn’t paid me. She simply said, “Alright,” and hung up.
I don’t know what conversation happened between her and Mami, but from the moment my husband returned after delivering milk in the morning, he stopped speaking to me. He only said, “Women are coming today to plant cotton. Don’t go to work at Bhabhi’s place.”
I replied, “That has nothing to do with me. I’m not working on Mami’s farm.”
He insisted, “Don’t work. Just help out—stand in line and hold the rope with me so the seeds can be sown properly.”
“Why should I help? Is Mami going to pay me for it?” I asked.
He sighed, “Stay home today. You can go to work tomorrow.”
The real reason they wanted me to stay was that the women working on the farm were from our extended family. If I had gone to work elsewhere, it would have been a major insult to Mami. So, they had planned this—forcing me to hold the rope all day would create the illusion that I was working on Mami’s farm while making sure I didn’t get paid.
The women arrived for work. Mangu and Mami were there too. Ignoring everyone, I got ready to leave. But my husband grabbed my arm and dragged me inside.
“Didn’t you understand when I told you once?” he snapped.
I was already furious. I yelled back, “She hasn’t paid me! Why should I help? You’re all working for free—should I do the same?”
He stormed outside, grabbed a thorny babul stick from near the stove, and started hitting me. I screamed loudly, telling the women, “Mami makes me work and doesn’t pay! She gives just a hundred rupees and three measures of wheat. If she had no money, why did she call us here to starve? There’s not even electricity in our house. Even on Sundays, we’re expected to work for her! Don’t we have our own family to take care of?”
Since I addressed Mami informally, my husband beat me even harder.
The women understood everything, but what could they say? Mami, worried about how she looked in front of them, also began speaking up.
“Your husband isn’t working for free. I saved him. He used to have fits! Did he even have food to eat at home? His own mother wouldn’t have done as much for him as I have. I took care of him like my own child. In exchange for his work, I gave his mother gold! Otherwise, she didn’t even have a single bead in her necklace.”
The women finally said, “Enough, Dada.”
My children had started crying. I quickly wiped my tears and stepped outside, but seeing them cry only made me break down even more.