All in a days work
This is a story loosely based on the life of a young girl who works in the house across my street.
Pitter-patter, the sound of the water dripping onto the vessels wakes her up at 4 a.m. It is yet another day, and she needs to wash the vessels before the sound of the water wakes the owner’s wife. She had forgotten to do them the previous night. The sight of children playing on the street till late in the night had her mesmerized enough to forget her daily routine. Maybe one day she would get to play. Perhaps on the street with children her age. Or in the comfort of her own home with dolls like her master’s daughter. She used to watch the girl longingly as she braided the doll’s curly locks. The doll wore a new dress each day – shades of red Monday through Wednesday and black and blue the remaining days. She remembered looking down at her worn-out shirt and skirt, one of the only 2 pairs of clothes she owned. Her mother had given her the new dress, telling her that it was on the occasion that she was going to start a new life and everyone needs a new outfit to commemorate an important event in their life. And that dress was now in rags.
Her master was never cruel to her. He was the nicest man, but he never smiled. She knew he was an important man though, he received so many phone calls. His wife was nice too as long as she didn’t cross her. If she did her work on time, the lady of the house would give her food on time, and allow her to sit by the table while the family dined together. She used to look forward to this moment each day as it reminded her of the days her brothers and sisters would gather around the fire in her village to eat a hearty meal.
A lot had changed since then. When her father had lost his job, her family could no longer afford to keep her around the house. When her father’s friend offered to send her to work for a rich family in the big city, she volunteered to leave because she couldn’t stand to see the tears her mother shed every night.
She used to listen as her master’s children attended tuition every day. She collected the papers they threw away and practised the alphabet and numbers with great concentration. Driver uncle had said that she had learnt more than what her father knew at her age, and she smiled to herself wondering how proud her father would have been had he seen her.
She never spent the money she earned working there. Though a meagre amount, she let it accumulate so one day she had enough to visit her family again. After six long years of toil, she had just about enough.
Pitter-patter, she heard the water bring her back to reality, and she began to scrub happily. Soon she would be home.
Pitter-patter, the sound of the water dripping onto the vessels wakes her up at 4 a.m. It is yet another day, and she needs to wash the vessels before the sound of the water wakes the owner’s wife. She had forgotten to do them the previous night. The sight of children playing on the street till late in the night had her mesmerized enough to forget her daily routine. Maybe one day she would get to play. Perhaps on the street with children her age. Or in the comfort of her own home with dolls like her master’s daughter. She used to watch the girl longingly as she braided the doll’s curly locks. The doll wore a new dress each day – shades of red Monday through Wednesday and black and blue the remaining days. She remembered looking down at her worn-out shirt and skirt, one of the only 2 pairs of clothes she owned. Her mother had given her the new dress, telling her that it was on the occasion that she was going to start a new life and everyone needs a new outfit to commemorate an important event in their life. And that dress was now in rags.
Her master was never cruel to her. He was the nicest man, but he never smiled. She knew he was an important man though, he received so many phone calls. His wife was nice too as long as she didn’t cross her. If she did her work on time, the lady of the house would give her food on time, and allow her to sit by the table while the family dined together. She used to look forward to this moment each day as it reminded her of the days her brothers and sisters would gather around the fire in her village to eat a hearty meal.
A lot had changed since then. When her father had lost his job, her family could no longer afford to keep her around the house. When her father’s friend offered to send her to work for a rich family in the big city, she volunteered to leave because she couldn’t stand to see the tears her mother shed every night.
She used to listen as her master’s children attended tuition every day. She collected the papers they threw away and practised the alphabet and numbers with great concentration. Driver uncle had said that she had learnt more than what her father knew at her age, and she smiled to herself wondering how proud her father would have been had he seen her.
She never spent the money she earned working there. Though a meagre amount, she let it accumulate so one day she had enough to visit her family again. After six long years of toil, she had just about enough.
Pitter-patter, she heard the water bring her back to reality, and she began to scrub happily. Soon she would be home.
Comments
There is one such girl in my neighbour's household. She might be sharing the same dream.
moving and provoking!
@barath: thanku thanku :)