Bai bai ka rishta.
No one tells Ganga bai what to do. She will decide how many bartan she would like to clean for the day and whether the quick hockey-like move of the jhaadu qualified as 'a clean sweep'. If she doesn't approve of your new white shirt, she will imperiously dye it patchy-pink for you.
'Tereko kuch praublem maangta hai kya?'
'Arre arre, nahin Ganga bai, aap ne theek kiya', and you hurriedly tuck your tail between your legs and continue cowering in the corner till she slams the door and leaves. This happens everyday and by now most of your wardrobe is monochromatic.
The city she lives in is cruel and unrelenting. Same city, one million different worlds. She was once a fisherwoman. If you brush past her, her pores still ooze the tantalizing stench of fish. Her words are punctuated with paan and baangda. Eventually, the fish vanished from the ocean and settled in the long-digested memories of the city. Ganga bai was out of work and out of luck. She slowly fell in love with toddy and her long-suffering husband hurriedly packed his remaining self-esteem and stole away into the smoggy night. She promptly moved in with a lout half her age and dared the bastiwale to object. It hardly caused a ripple.
Her sister-in-law was aptly named 'with a good heart'. Suman. She worked in a Sindhi khandan during the day and passed on gossip through the evening. Ganga encouraged it, why she loved it! 'Suman's mistress is a conniving whore', she thought and smiled a wry smile. 'Why we could have been sisters!'. One day,bataon bataon me, Suman unknowingly dropped a gem into Ganga bai's lap. 'Woh aurat shaitaan hai, haan woh Pooja! Aaj woh aur uski amma baitkar uske maradh ko khallas karne ko soche. Woh aadmi aaspital me hai, nikaal dengi yeh chudail, aur paisa bachayegi'. Ganga bai's paan-chewing went ino overdrive. 'Yeh baat uske khandan ko maalum kya?'. Suman laughed. 'Pata hota, tho inko bahar nikal denge'. Ganga nodded sagely. 'Achcha, achcha.'
The following dawn saw a determined Ganga bai threatening a bus conductor to drop her off without a ticket. She marched up six floors, lift-shift kaisa chalate hai, and leaned on the Hirnani doorbell.
'Ae shane, sab jaanta hai apun. Tera bell bajaya apun ne, bhagwan ki puja kar. Mujhe tere ghar me kaam karne ka hai. Pagaar ek hazaar rupaiya lega. Aaj se shuuru.'
Pooja Hirnani stood with her back to the wall with a wild look in her eyes. 'Hey Ram', she whispered. Prey meeting predator. Then she recovered her voice and made a brave attempt. 'Bahar nikal, kaun hai tu? Kya jaanti hai?'
Ganga bai moved in. 'Ae, kal tu aaspital me kya palaan bana rahi thi? Maradh ko maaregi, kuttiya? Tereko tho narak me bhi jhaga nahin milega, samjhi? Terko chaain se jeena hai, apun tere yahan rahega.'
That is how the maid hired a mistress. Long before Pooja aunty ran away, Ganga bai had vanished. After all, a city this size is full of opportunity.
'Tereko kuch praublem maangta hai kya?'
'Arre arre, nahin Ganga bai, aap ne theek kiya', and you hurriedly tuck your tail between your legs and continue cowering in the corner till she slams the door and leaves. This happens everyday and by now most of your wardrobe is monochromatic.
The city she lives in is cruel and unrelenting. Same city, one million different worlds. She was once a fisherwoman. If you brush past her, her pores still ooze the tantalizing stench of fish. Her words are punctuated with paan and baangda. Eventually, the fish vanished from the ocean and settled in the long-digested memories of the city. Ganga bai was out of work and out of luck. She slowly fell in love with toddy and her long-suffering husband hurriedly packed his remaining self-esteem and stole away into the smoggy night. She promptly moved in with a lout half her age and dared the bastiwale to object. It hardly caused a ripple.
Her sister-in-law was aptly named 'with a good heart'. Suman. She worked in a Sindhi khandan during the day and passed on gossip through the evening. Ganga encouraged it, why she loved it! 'Suman's mistress is a conniving whore', she thought and smiled a wry smile. 'Why we could have been sisters!'. One day,bataon bataon me, Suman unknowingly dropped a gem into Ganga bai's lap. 'Woh aurat shaitaan hai, haan woh Pooja! Aaj woh aur uski amma baitkar uske maradh ko khallas karne ko soche. Woh aadmi aaspital me hai, nikaal dengi yeh chudail, aur paisa bachayegi'. Ganga bai's paan-chewing went ino overdrive. 'Yeh baat uske khandan ko maalum kya?'. Suman laughed. 'Pata hota, tho inko bahar nikal denge'. Ganga nodded sagely. 'Achcha, achcha.'
The following dawn saw a determined Ganga bai threatening a bus conductor to drop her off without a ticket. She marched up six floors, lift-shift kaisa chalate hai, and leaned on the Hirnani doorbell.
'Ae shane, sab jaanta hai apun. Tera bell bajaya apun ne, bhagwan ki puja kar. Mujhe tere ghar me kaam karne ka hai. Pagaar ek hazaar rupaiya lega. Aaj se shuuru.'
Pooja Hirnani stood with her back to the wall with a wild look in her eyes. 'Hey Ram', she whispered. Prey meeting predator. Then she recovered her voice and made a brave attempt. 'Bahar nikal, kaun hai tu? Kya jaanti hai?'
Ganga bai moved in. 'Ae, kal tu aaspital me kya palaan bana rahi thi? Maradh ko maaregi, kuttiya? Tereko tho narak me bhi jhaga nahin milega, samjhi? Terko chaain se jeena hai, apun tere yahan rahega.'
That is how the maid hired a mistress. Long before Pooja aunty ran away, Ganga bai had vanished. After all, a city this size is full of opportunity.
posted by Ambika Sam | 10:42
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