"THE SECOND SHIFT"
Vidya switched off the TV. It was three o’clock in the afternoon; her two serials on Sun TV were over and had stopped at such crucial junctures. She wondered what was going to happen to Anandi tomorrow. The poor thing was being tortured by her mother in law. She sighed to herself and came back to real life.
It was time for her second shift. Her husband had not come home for lunch yet, and she didn’t know whether he was going to come today. She covered the food and kept it on the floor with a plate nearby so that he could serve himself if he came home. He had no fixed timings. He had a small space on a foot path and set up shop with whatever he could according to the season.
It was the Navaratri season now and his wares were dolls and Plaster of Paris figurines of Gods and Goddesses. Business was good, but Vidya knew that she would never see any of that money. She didn’t care these days; she knew that it was not something that she could control anyway. She was earning three thousand rupees each month now and was keeping half of it a secret from her husband. A thrill swept over her just thinking about the money she had given Shantha akka for safekeeping. Two more months and she could actually buy something in gold for herself. But then, that too would have to be kept a secret from her husband. If he ever knew that there was anything valuable in the house it would be forced to take up permanent residence in the pawn shop. But atleast for the first time in her life she would have something in gold. The very thought made her feel like a queen.
She locked her house, a small single room made of wood, tin, plastic and tarpaulin sheets with a press lock and put her hand inside the tiny window and hung the key on a nail. Her husband knew where to find the key, as did most of her neighbors. But the only thing of any value in their house was the small TV issued by the government, and all the houses in the neighborhood had one these days. All her friends did the same thing before setting off to work. She called out to Vasanthi and Kavitha, and they joined her as they walked across their slum, animatedly discussing Anandi’s plight on the soap like neighborhood gossip. The crossed the big open sewage gutter and walked into the big apartment complex where they all reported for their second shift.
They all worked as maids in the buildings. There were almost three hundred houses there and there was no dearth of jobs for them. The first shift started at six thirty in the morning where Vidya worked in A32 and B20. She washed the vessels, swept and swabbed the floor and washed the clothes in the first house and rushed to the second house where she did the same thing. By nine thirty her work was finished and she headed back to her own house to do the same work there. Her husband usually ate the breakfast she whipped up in a hurry and rushed off to open his stall on the footpath. She would then finish the rest of her own household chores, prepare lunch and relax with her dose of daily soaps till three in the afternoon and again rush off for her second shift.
She returned at eight in the evening and prepared dinner waited for her husband to return as she watched the next set of soaps on the tiny TV. Most days, he came home drunk, the extent of his drunkenness depending on the success of his footpath sales that day, and beat her. Then he would calm down after some screaming and nagging from her end and they would settle down to have the cold dinner and go to bed.
On days when his buddies taunted him on his childless status he would come home even more drunk and beat her harder. They were the only couple in the street who had not yet produced a brood of leaky nosed, ragged children running around their house. It was almost a crime that they had not added to the bursting population of their slum, and Vidya’s mother kept sending her to various temples to pray for a boon. Three years of marriage and still childless, she feared her son-in-law would soon seek another wife.
Vidya had dropped out of school when she was twelve and began to accompany her mother who worked as a maid in the Electricity board quarters then. She learnt the tricks of the trade from her and by the time she was sixteen she was ready for her first independent stint as a maid.
When the big apartment complex was being built, almost everyone from her slum went to work there as construction workers, and then many of them had graduated as maids, watchmen and handymen there after the buildings became occupied.
At eighteen her father had married her off to a man twice her age after an emotional promise to a fellow drunk in the arrack shop, sealed over plastic cups of cheap country liquor. Three years had passed and she had settled into the life she lived now, just like her mother, grandmother and almost every woman in their slum had settled into.
She didn’t know of another way of life and sometimes watched the women in the apartment complex with a twinge of longing. “If I am ever reborn, I want to be reborn as one of them” she silently said to the deity she passed each morning before she entered the apartments.
She pressed the elevator button in C block. Her next job was in C28. Divya and Karthik’s apartment. Vidya could never understand how these people worked. One spouse worked days and the other worked nights. During her morning shifts in A32 and B20 the women usually came back home from work in the wee hours of the morning and sleepily ordered her around the house as their husbands got ready for work. The moment her work was over and the men left, the women crashed out on their beds and slept blissfully for the rest of the day.
The situation in C28 was the opposite. Divya, her mistress worked days and the husband worked nights. Karthik usually woke up at around four o’clock every afternoon to get ready for work. Vidya ringing the doorbell was like an alarm clock for him.
Today also, Karthik opened the door for her rubbing his eyes, sleepily muttering “Is it four already?” and plodded back into the bedroom.
Divya, his wife had left at eight that morning when Karthik was fast asleep and the house was in shambles as usual. Newspapers were thrown around, chocolate wrappers were lying on the floor, clothes were scattered over the furniture in the living room and a half eaten slice of bread and jam from her breakfast was lying on the dining table with a swarm of ants around it.
Vidya set about her daily tasks mechanically. She began to straighten out the mess around, as she did each day, wondering how Divya could turn the apartment into shambles overnight.
Vidya went to the kitchen, straight to the sink. As always there were very few dishes to wash. Usually she had to just wash up a just a couple of plates and some plastic takeaway containers. She rarely saw home cooked food in any of the houses she worked in. Many days, she struggled to stuff in huge empty pizza boxes into the dustbin before taking out the trash. She even made a few extra rupees on the numerous empty Coke and Pepsi bottles that she collected from the four houses.
She wondered whether the husbands and wives ever saw each other, because she rarely saw the two of them together in any of the houses she worked in. On weekends all her shift timings went haywire. She always found herself standing outside the apartments, ringing the doorbells for a long time and returning home since no one answered the door. The couples slept for odd hours and she had to keep coming back again and again to see if anyone was awake in any of the four houses. Some days all the maids gathered in the park below and gossiped about their respective employers while waiting restlessly for atleast one couple to come out of their slumber so that they could finish off their duties for the day.
She quickly washed up the dishes and tidied the kitchen. There was a bottle of pickle growing fungus on the kitchen counter. The bottle was almost full and she didn’t know if she should throw it away or leave it there. She didn’t dare to take any decision without proper instructions these days. She had once taken a pair of torn jeans to swab the floor, only to hear Divya screaming that they were perfectly serviceable ones that Karthik used and that she had spoilt them now. Divya had even threatened to deduct some money from her salary because of that. So she let the pickle bottle remain on where it was, as it was. Maybe it was some rich man’s delicacy.
She put the dirty clothes in the red bucket with a handful of Surf to soak for some time and picked up the broom and began sweeping the floor.
She entered the bedroom and could hear Karthik in the bathroom, having his bath, getting ready for work. She could never understand how he worked for Americans but returned home each day. Once Karthik had tried to explain to her that it was through computers and even shown her his laptop. But it was way beyond her comprehension. However it gave her some sense of satisfaction when she realized that her TV at home was much bigger than the computer he had shown her.
She finished sweeping and picked up the wet cloth and bucket of water and began to swab the floor. She was never comfortable with the long mops and preferred to squat on the floor and swab, bending low.
She was swabbing the bedroom when Karthik came out of the bathroom, humming to himself, wearing just a towel. He always came out that way, never bothered about Vidya’s presence in the room. She watched him as he went up to the mirror and began spraying himself with wonderful smelling deodorants and perfumes. His hair was wet and slicked back and he applied something to his hair. The entire room was filled with a musky, manly smell. She continued swabbing the floor.
She suddenly felt a gaze fall upon her. She looked up. Karthik was just standing there, in front of the mirror, still bare bodied in his towel, but staring at her. Instinctively, she looked down. Her sari pallu had shifted and her breasts were half exposed, overflowing from her blouse that was secured by more safety pins than hooks. She grabbed the pallu and covered herself, blushing. He looked away immediately and continued to do something in front of the mirror again.
Hastily, she picked up the bucket and cloth and walked out of the room.
She went back to the kitchen to boil the milk and prepare his coffee. She never knew what to refer to the meal he ate before he left for work. Technically it was his first meal for the day and should be breakfast, but it was at five o’clock in the evening!!! Was it lunch? Or tea?
She prepared the coffee and took it to the dining room searching for him. He was not there. She called out for him “Sir, coffee”
“I’m here, bring it here” he called out from his bedroom.
She took the cup and handed it to him. He was still bare-chested, wearing yet another pair of faded jeans. The wet towel was lying on the floor.
Karthik took a sip and smiled at her, “You make really good coffee, you know” he said, his voice husky.
She smiled shyly. “I have taken the butter out of the fridge sir; the bread is on the dining table. Do you want me to make an omlette or something?”
He didn’t say anything; he just stared at her for a long moment, suddenly looking very sad. She was reminded of the stray dog she put out leftovers for every day. He had the same look in his eyes, waiting longingly for something from her. The thought embarrassed her. “How could I compare her employer to the stray dog?” she thought, suppressing a smile.
“You know Vidya; I have eaten more food prepared by you than Divya” He sounded hurt.
“Amma has no time sir; she is a big officer working in that big office. I am after all a servant, this is the only thing I know” Vidya replied, not knowing how to respond.
She bent down and picked up the towel from the floor, feeling a bit uneasy. She turned to leave the room.
Suddenly Karthik reached out to her and grabbed her by her waist. She was stunned. For a moment she did not know what was happening and tried to push him away, but to her shock and surprise found herself responding to his advances very eagerly.
Twenty minutes later she hurriedly put on her clothes and rushed out of the apartment, smelling of aftershave and deodorant mingled with Fair and Lovely and Surf Excel. The red bucket of clothes sat on the balcony, soaking.
She didn’t go back to C28 the next day. She went with Vasanthi to D block and found another apartment for her second shift. There was always a demand for maids. She even got two hundred rupees more that was Divya and Karthik were paying her.
Two months later, Vidya’s husband returned home drunk after giving a party to his buddies in the arrack shop. Vidya’s father had also got drunk with his son-in-law and they walked back home, through the narrow alley, at nine pm singing loudly.
“I am proud of you my son-in law”, Vidya’s father slurred drunkenly “I am going to get my grandchild. You have proved that you are a man. A real man.”
Vidya’s husband staggered behind him mumbling something. The rest of their motley party was also following them not far behind in the same inebriated state, fully geared up to beat up their wives as soon as they reached home.
Vidya sat in her small room and touched her belly. She smiled to herself as she heard the father- in- law and son- in- law bonding drunkenly outside the house.
The doctor had told her that everything was perfect and she could continue to work as usual. “Continue to work as you do now, you will definitely not need a caesarean” she had told Vidya.
Deepa on her nine o’clock soap on Sun TV too was pregnant. She had someone to share her happiness with.
Her husband was banging the door. She got up to open it, one eye still on the TV. She knew he would not beat her tonight; his ego had been given a boost today.
She patted her stomach. Nothing showed yet. That would take another two to three months.
She hoped her baby would be a boy.
A fair, smart handsome boy.
A boy who would grow up to become a big computer engineer.
Just like his father.
__END__
PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM
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