Sari Caste Read online

  I was told they had been abandoned. Mona had rescued them. My respect for her grew but not my affection. She was cold and hard especially with the children. As long as everything ran smoothly she left us alone but if the smallest thing went wrong that was another matter.

  I came into the kitchen one morning and found Ch'en wearing only a vest, sitting unusually quiet in a corner under a table. I crouched down to see him engrossed in pouring molasses and oil over his hands, which he rolled, and slithered together. As if to cast a spell on himself he trickled the thick black mixture over the floor and wall around him. Everyone had been too busy to notice his happy little game. He looked so funny with his small round face covered in the dribbling tarry mixture. By the blackness of his tongue he had obviously treated himself to plenty.

  "What are you doing Ch'en?" I should have sounded cross but could not conceal a smile.

  His little face lit up. "Bah!" meaning "well done!" A Bengali expression he had picked up from me. It was my favourite word of encouragement to the children.

  On impulse I dipped my finger into the gooey mixture and licked. "Delicious." I coated my finger again but this time pulled it in a long squiggle across the floor. Ch'en shrieked delightedly, scooped up a runny handful, and streaked it across my scrawl. He waited stiff with excitement for the next challenge. Laughing and covered in his gooey recipe we enjoyed our silly game. It was childish fun and my first carefree moment since I had arrived. The very moment Mona chose to appear. My stomach tightened. I hoped she would not notice me, and that the reason for her visit would be to choose a small servant to run an errand for her, rather than to sniff out anything that could displease her.

  "Manasa, what are you teaching that bad Ch'en?"

  "I am helping him to make a children's puja." I smiled sweetly at her to appease her irritation. I could not believe the intensity to the angry twist of her mouth. Mummy would never have made a fuss about something so trivial.

  "What rubbish! Clean it."

  "I was trying to teach him about religion Mona. I did intend to clear up afterwards."

  "If you want to stay here teach the children they must earn their keep and help you earn yours. Teach them hard work, not religion."

  I held my tongue. Poor little Ch'en. His lower lip began to quiver. In an attempt to hide from her, he climbed into my lap and dropped his head onto my shoulder rubbing molasses and oil into my sari.

  "Ch'en, you wicked, wicked boy, get down!" Mona railed at him. He wriggled from my arms and slithered to the floor. There he turned from me to shoot a magnificent spurt of urine over Mona's bare feet. Ch'en howled with delight. I did my best to smother my giggles into something between a cough and a grin. Thunder and lightening raged in Mona's eyes as she stomped over and flung her hand across the side of his face catching his ear with the flat of her hand.

  "No, Mona. Leave him alone." I wailed as I scooped him up onto my hip. She turned her hard look on me and slapped me too knocking me off balance. I wanted to fly at her with my hands and feet but that would risk either losing my treasured new position in the brothel or giving her reason to throw me back onto the street. I hid my tears of rage and humiliation as Ch'en and I leaned our heads into each other's shoulders.

  "Ha! Not laughing now! Look at that sari. Clean it!" She bellowed above Ch'en's howling. "This afternoon we go to the clinic. Eat and drink nothing until we return. It's a costly treatment. Don't forget, another baby and you will be thrown back to the street." She dismissed us with a flapping hand mumbling complaints as she strutted away.

  My heart began to race. My special position was only special in my mind. She obviously intended to use me as a prostitute in this place, this Sari Caste, but she could not force me, could she? Not if I insisted I would do only domestic work. Why would she care what I did? I hoped there would not be such a confrontation. The strange creatures of fear and dread twisted and tumbled inside my stomach. The desire for food had gone.

  That afternoon, I left Lipika to sleep under Supriya's care and went to see Mona. She was watching a quiz show on her television but she jumped up as soon as she was aware that I was watching with her.

  "What are you doing?" she hammered at me.

  "You sent for me. Please don't switch off. We will miss the end, Mona."

  "We haven't got time for this rubbish!"

  "I thought you enjoyed it too. I wish we could see the end."

  With an arrogant wave of her hand she pushed the switch. "When did you eat last?"

  "I don't know. Could we see the rest of the quiz? It must be nearly finished now. Shall we just see the end?"

  "Answer me!"

  I was beginning to recognise that any opportunity to oppose or frustrate was never allowed to slip past Mona. She had no need of a friend. I shrugged, "Last night. I haven't eaten anything today."

  "Good. We'll take the rickshaw to the clinic now. Then you will be ready to work like the others."

  This was the moment, I knew, to plead not to do anything but domestic chores.

  "Why are you standing there like an idle fool with your mouth open? Send for the rickshaw."

  My mouth would not work. I could not utter one single word to stop all that was about to happen.

  "I will, Mona," I hesitated to straighten myself and find a way to begin. "Mona, are you pleased with my work?"

  "It is work. Work is work. I am pleased only when we make money."

  I wanted her approval so that she would agree to let me do only servant work and nothing else but that didn't make her any money. One glance at her face, hard and solid like a slab of stone, told me nothing human could touch her. But this was the time to insist I would not lower myself to the depths of prostitution. Now, now before it was too late.

  I took a slow breath and steeled myself. "I work very hard doing domestic chores. It leaves all the other women free to make more money for you. Could I continue to do only that? It is the thing I do best and would save you spending money at the clinic for me."

  "You will work to pay for the clinic. All women earn the money. You work, eat, sleep, live here or you go."

  Her cold immovability etched away all feeling from me, even shame. She was demanding a simple service. I must provide my body. In return she would feed, clothe and shelter it. We were not related. She was not responsible for me. I could eat or I could starve. I could live or I could die. It was not important to her. She owed me nothing. Words, arguments would not convince her. I must look for another way. Meantime, I was to call a rickshaw for the clinic.

  Mona's large frame had me squeezed uncomfortably against her in the small vehicle. Even in this forced closeness she remained unfriendly. Towards the end of the journey she delighted in reminding me, "Once this is done you will soon be ready to begin some real work. Make money." That depreciative taunt echoed my father's voice. I would do everything I could to defy her wish.

  The journey was short. We jolted down the bumpy side streets. Mona cursed the rickshaw wallah each time he ground the wheels into a rut or swerved suddenly to avoid one. It was worse for me. Whenever she slid against me, her girth seemed to expand and crush me as punishment for her discomfort.

  How frustrating that we should be making a completely unnecessary journey. When we stopped Mona handed me a few coins and struggled to the ground. While she put up her umbrella fussing about having to wait for me in the heat, I was left to deal with the driver. I managed a good price by sealing the bargain with a promise to use him again for the return journey. I thought it might be possible to work in my favour that she relied upon me in this way.

  "You will say I am your mother-in-law, today." Mona informed me with a sharp glance that defied any queries. If she had been even a little softer, I would have made some protest, tried to reason with her. Instead I hoped I could find some other way to get what I wanted.

  The heat weighted each one of our steps. I was beginning to feel apprehensive. I had never seen a doctor. We followed a weathered concrete path leading away
from an elevated wooden sign, which displayed a picture of two babies. The beautiful boy in his smiling father's arms with a huge tick beside them both: A black cross covering a string of unadorned girl babies who lay suspended in the air as punishment for some unknown crime. It worried me. I had to hurry to catch up with Mona, who had joined a queue of women seated on the rough grass beside a rambling bungalow. For a moment, we each appraised the other idly wondering.

  A young boy, carrying a bucket almost too big for him to grapple with, travelled the length of the queue selling water to drink. The tepid water revived the women, who formed groups of lively gossipmongers, reminding me of hagglers in the market. Their energy exhausted me. I became drowsy and began to nod off until prodded by a woman next to me in a dusty blue sari.

  "They'll take you in on a stretcher. I have a little water left, take it." Her voice rasped against my ear. I wanted to scold her for making me jump but it was a kind offer so I took it and drank gratefully.

  "How much longer do you think we must wait?" I sighed.

  "You've only just come." she sniggered. "It will all be over by dusk. Then no more baby girls to worry us. I have five girls and at last I have one boy. How many girls do you have?"

  I was confused. She echoed my father's attitude and the worrying picture on the notice board. "I have one girl, Lipika and I am proud of her." I snapped defiantly.

  "And now you have a boy at last too! You're glad and the family is praising you now! Thank the gods for a boy. You're so lucky you didn't have many years to wait for a son but why are you sterilising now? You might still be blessed with more boys and more favour."

  "My mother-in-law says it is time." I decided to let Mona take some of the blame but I was angry with myself as well. There was no hope of me ever having a husband, so what was the point in sterilising me except to make myself obey Mona's disgusting wishes?

  Soon the place was abuzz and they were all staring at me. The dusty blue sari spoke up. "One girl and one boy. You are so young. Suppose one of them dies? It's a sad thing to end without a son because you have stopped the possibility too early." She turned on Mona who stood scowling and rigid beside me. "You mustn't do this. You're not being fair to your son and daughter-in-law."

  Mona pouted. There was a deathly silence. Some of the women looked as if they would attack her. At last she said, "This is not your business. I have no son and if I did she would not be my daughter-in-law." They all gasped at her brazen reply.

  "Get on with your families and your cackling. She uses her body to make money. She doesn't waste herself slaving for lazy husbands and sons who don't deserve her."

  "That is very wicked!"

  In fascinated horror the words, "Prostitute. Prostitute and her keeper" echoed around us.

  "No. You are wrong. She is my very kind employer but I am not a prostitute." I corrected desperately hoping Mona would note my loyalty.

  Mona turned her back like an iron hedge against them. I tried to understand these women who were shocked by prostitutes yet hated baby girls. I opened my mouth to speak but they had all moved off into a huddle. I turned my back to prevent them seeing my tears and took my place defiantly next to Mona who grinned at me slyly.

  No one spoke to us after that but when the nurse came to call the next patient they made a huge fuss. I listened carefully to all that was said. The nurse had to calm them down and reassure them that prostitutes had a separate tent with instruments used for them only.

  They all insisted I go next. They did not want me near them, polluting them. Mona waited close by indifferent to their animosity. To negotiate payment, she had given me Pramath's wad of money. I made the best bargain I could stomach. I handed the money over and was led into the tent. A male doctor and a female nurse, in strange green gowns and white hats took charge of me. The air was infused with heavy disinfectant. I could feel it drawing down into my lungs and seeping into the pores of my skin. At the sight of the instruments heaped on a tin trolley I shrank into a corner. There was the waiting couch raised high on bricks like an altar, for which I was the sacrifice! Their no-nonsense orders demanded obedience. Too timid to make a fuss I lay on the couch trembling. They explained I must breathe the magic gas, and then I would sleep while they performed their ritual. A gas mask placed over my mouth obliterated the disinfectant. Nervously I took the three or four breaths to oblivion.

  I woke up in discomfort with the nurse tapping my cheek as I surfaced through the murky waters of semi-consciousness. I became aware of pain in my stomach as I gulped in mouthfuls of the familiar disinfected warm air.

  "Take your time. Slow breaths."

  Though drowsy I was conscious now. "What has happened to me?" I began to panic when another pain shot through my stomach in my attempt to sit up.

  "No need for such a fuss. You're completely sterile. No more worry about babies." The nurse frowned as she helped me up.

  I began to remember Lipika. "I must not have any more babies." I babbled. "I am a ... pros ... "

  "Prostitute. Yes." I sensed her effort not to show her disapproval but even the pause between her words seemed weighed with distaste. "You must remember to come back for check ups. We must protect your clients' and their families' health." I felt the doctor's eyes watching me as though I was some strange demon, wondering what unexpected mischief I might perform but I was too weary to care any more. All I wanted was to get away from them. I swallowed the tiny thimble of water the nurse offered me and stumbled out to Mona.

  My hair was sticky and clung to my head. The long plait limp over my chest, hung in untidy puffs of stray hair. I roughly smudged away my tears. I didn't want Mona to see me distressed or hear her thoughtless comments. As if I stood outside myself, slightly disconnected, I felt the muscles around my mouth attempt to smile. "They have finished with me." I decided to forget the check ups. I would not be coming back. It was Mona I had to worry about not the clients I didn't intend to have.

  I was determined not to let my employer know of my needs, something that seemed to bring out the worst in her. I still remember her satisfied smirk as she turned her face away and led off to the rickshaw. She had enjoyed inflicting this experience on me. My value, to her, was the work in me, nothing more. The doctor had made a hole in me and robbed me. It gave Mona greedy delight to think of the uses she could put me to and the money I could earn for her. A heavy silence fell over us on our journey back. She made no attempt to shift her weight from me. The rickshaw seemed to have shrunk and her bulk spilled over to bear down on my wound.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I examined the small wound near my navel. Supriya told me one or two of the other women had been for treatment and had a wound like mine. She thought I should be happy. It meant I didn't have to take pills. What did I care about taking pills or not? All I was interested in was finding a way for Lipika and I to continue safely to have something to eat every day.

  There were other puzzles to wonder about too. Why so many children with us when babies were not allowed? The children were well cared for in a material sense. They had plenty to eat and shelter. Before I had arrived, they had been worked hard and generally neglected because no one felt responsible for their happiness. Most of the very young ones were clingy and subdued.

  Careful to keep away from Mona, who seemed to have forgotten me, I worked at organising the place. The other women slept most of the day. Without family to care for or to take care of them, their lives seemed hollow and wasted. I pitied them. I managed to make it my job to take charge of the other children as well as Lipika. I enjoyed it. Sheltered with full stomachs in that strange family group they, at least, would not perish on the streets. It was pleasing to hear their shrill voices ring out mummy's songs that I taught them. They lay on the floor or leaned trustingly against me. They were thrilled with my stories of magic lizards whose mischievous spells protected their maharaja lord, bold and straight in his swaying howdah set on the back of a bejewelled elephant. Ch'en sat stubbornly outside the group but follo
wed everything with his thin slanted eyes. I kept the children occupied and well away from Mona. Perhaps that suited her too.

  The market was my happy place of escape. I usually took two or three of the younger children with me. Together we wandered round buying overripe fruit for everyone to share later. It was wonderful to be out of the dreary little rooms we inhabited. The children were free to run and squealed with delight as they dashed between the stalls eagerly accepting small pieces of food offered to them. They loved it. My thoughts turned to Sharmila and her sad little family. Her children would do well here and would not starve. Guiltily, I remembered their sombre hungry faces as I wandered round bargaining for the things we needed. I must share this food with Sharmila. Here I was eating every day while she and her family often went without. I missed her. It would be so wonderful to have her near me again. It would lessen the loneliness of missing mummy and Kajal.