I thought I was being headstrong and obstinate, but not powerful
Life has unravelled the many meanings of power to me. I have come to understand that power is not always with others, but with us as well. Being myself, expressing myself in the way I like, is also an act of power.
I got married on 10th May 2005. All the relatives that came to attend my wedding left 10 days after the marriage. I took off all the jewellery I had to wear for the wedding. I got myself ready in the way that I liked. I wore one bangle in each of my hands, a plain blue saree, and a pair of slender anklets. Looking at me, my mother-in-law started scolding, “Is this how a newly married woman should look like? What did your mother teach you? Nothing!?” She continued with her rant, “A married woman’s hand should be full of bangles, hair full of flowers, and a forehead with a big bindi. Are you a kid who wears anklets like that? They should be huge and visible. A newly married bride wearing a blue sari is a bad omen. What unfortunate thing do you wish to bring upon my son!?” She ordered me to listen to her and wear what she wanted me to wear. She scolded me for not following her orders. She shouted at me saying “If other happily married women see you like this, it is bad luck for them.”
I neither listened to my mother-in-law nor changed my attire as per her wish. Instead, I told her “Ok, Attamma, you have seen me like this now – let me wait and see what bad thing happens to you.” She retorted “How headstrong and uncouth you are! You do not possess even a single quality of a woman.” I did not care much for what she said. I stood up for myself and wore whatever made me comfortable.
The next day I asked her “You saw me yesterday. I see nothing has happened to you?” She repeated her words saying “You are headstrong and do not know how to behave like a woman. It is not you; the real culprit is the one who arranged this match for us.” Like that, my mother-in-law went on cursing the person who fixed my marriage.
Till now, I thought I was being headstrong and obstinate, but not powerful. I thought this because I wasn’t the kind to listen to my husband or in-laws. I stayed the way I liked. Even my own parents called me headstrong. I never thought of it as being powerful because I was of the opinion that only people who are above us have power because hierarchy wise, they are greater than us. I always thought powerful people are the ones who rule us or exercise dominance over us. Since I thought I was always at the lower rung of hierarchy, I never thought of myself as someone with power. It is not just the people above us, but each one of us has power. A daughter-in-law could also have some power just like a mother-in-law in a house. As I realise this, I think back to the many instances in my life where I thought I was being a headstrong woman, but maybe I was simply exerting my power.
When my son was one year old, I expressed to my mother-in-law how I did not like working in the agricultural fields. I said, “We will go to Hyderabad, and search for work in a company there.”
She started shouting at me as soon as I said that, “My son does not even know our village block properly, what do you want to make him into by taking him to an unknown city?” It wasn’t an unexpected reaction. However, I was bewildered when she said, “There would be many vehicles there, do you want to get him killed in accidents?” I tried to reason with her logically. “You are saying he might get killed in an accident in the city. He might die here as well. Even in villages, people die of various causes like snakebite, alcohol addiction, and pesticide consumption.” My mother-in-law had no comeback. Instead, she said “It is difficult to talk to you about anything. I do not want you to take my son to Hyderabad. If you wish to go, go alone.”
I thought about it for a couple of days. I approached a government school teacher in my village whose word is considered sacrosanct by my family. I told him about my plans of migrating to Hyderabad and my family’s arguments against them. He immediately spoke to my family. He asked my mother-in-law, “If people in Hyderabad die of accidents, people in villages die of other causes like suicides and alcohol abuse. If he stays here, will you guarantee your son’s life?”
With her sari pallu on her head, she hung her head down and said “I did not think about it this way, Sir.” After she left, the teacher assured me saying “You have made the right decision, they do not know much about migration. I will try to make them understand again. You go ahead with your plans.”
We came home. I spoke to my acquaintances in Hyderabad. I asked them to find a job for us. Accordingly, they did and also found a small room for us.
***
With a bag full of utensils, another one full of clothes, and a can of kerosene, we started our journey. There was a bus to Hyderabad from our village at 3 PM. I boarded the bus with my son, clutched in my left hand and the can of kerosene in my right hand. My husband boarded with one bag on his head, and one in his hand.
***
We rented a small room. We did not have a stove to cook. Our neighbours gave us a kerosene pump stove, a small bucket, and a big bucket. The next morning, I poured some kerosene into the stove and tried to light it but I could not. Again, I knocked on my neighbour’s door for help. She came out stretching, sleepily. She asked me to bring the pump stove out and taught me how to light it. Then I cooked rice and dal with the items I brought from home and boiled milk for my son. I served the food to my husband and packed his box. My son and I ate the food as well. For the first time, my husband started working for a salary of 6K. He wrapped his lunch box in a plastic cover and left.
We spent a week like that. We used up all the money brought from home. We did not know what to do. There was still a month for the salary to come.
***
The people in my Basti used to work as decorators in weddings and other functions. I’d often see them Stringing flowers. I had a strong desire to work and earn, but my son was too small to be left alone at home. There was no money to buy milk for my son, which is why I wanted to earn at least to look after the household expenses. I was suffering a lot. One day, while I was looking down from my balcony, I saw a woman giving a basket of flowers to other women in the Basti for Stringing. I stood there, hesitating whether to ask her for some flowers to string or not. Since I was new to that Basti, I just stood there watching all of them.
At last, I mustered courage and asked the woman to give the last basket of flowers left to me to string. She made a face and said “You are new here. Do you even know how to string? What if you ruin them?” I convinced her to trust me. She gave a basket of flowers along with a ball of string and a needle. I came up with a basket in one hand and my boy in the other hand. I took the liberty of giving him some of the spoiled flowers to play and started stringing. I took out the needle and thread, prepared to start my work. I took an hour to string the flowers into a garland. I immediately went down and gave the garland to the woman. She accepted the garland and appreciated my work. She assured me that she would give me another basket the next day.
I got Rs. 2 for stringing the flowers. I was extremely happy to earn, so I bought a Parle-G biscuit packet for my son, took it to my home, and fed him. The next day, I was given two baskets of flowers. The number of baskets increased with each passing day. After a week, the woman brought 30-40 kilograms of flowers to us. I, along with a group of 5 children, strung the entire bunch. I earned 10-15 rupees per day, with which I would buy milk and biscuits. I stopped asking for money from my husband. For the first time I thought, “If I earn money, I need not ask my husband for any money.”
***
One day I approached my neighbour, who worked at a bindi making company, for some work. She asked me “You have a small kid with you, how will you work? Will he let you work? There is expensive material around. What if he spoils it?” I assured her that I’ll keep an eye on him. She asked me to come with her to the company so that she could introduce me to her supervisor.
***
I woke up around 5am in the morning. I cooked for my husband, gave a bath to my son, packed a lunch box for my husband and got ready. I also packed a towel and lunch for me and my son in a cover. I held my son on my left hip, held my lunch bag in my right hand and went to meet the supervisor with my neighbour. As expected, he asked the same question, “You have a small kid. How will you work? There is also a lot of expensive material here.” He did look remorseful while saying it. I assured him that I won’t let my son touch or spoil anything. “Please give me an opportunity. If he spoils anything, I will stop working.” He gave me the job.
The person in charge took me inside and explained all the rules and regulations. There were 20 to 30 women working in that company. They stormed at me with a lot of questions. “Where are you from? How many kids do you have? What does your husband do? How will you manage the work with your son?” I answered all of them with a smile. I told them that I came to earn money on my own as I do not like sitting at home doing nothing.
I was shown a spot near the washroom. I was asked to work there. I spread a towel on the floor, laid my son on it and started working. I was given all the material, gum, and glitter to make Bindis. I was concerned that all the glitter would fall on my son’s ear and nose but the in-charge there helped me by showing how to carefully make a bindi. On my first day, I earned Rs. 60. Every day, I earned more as I worked more. After a few days, I started earning Rs.100 per day. My first salary at the end of the month was Rs. 2100, and then it was Rs. 3000 soon. The happiness I felt when I received my first salary was priceless. I was determined to work harder. I woke up every day early in the morning, did all the household chores and went to work. I started getting more work, and more money. Soon, I was earning around Rs 4000-6000 a month.
Earning made me self-confident. I started to respect myself more. It gave me courage. Many of my relatives would question me, “Is it necessary to work when you have a small kid to take care of?” I strongly replied, “I want to stand on my own feet, I want to earn. I like going to work, so I will go. I do not like to sit at home. I want to work hard and earn my own money.” I realised I felt powerful when I earned my own money.
***
After 8 months of working there, I became pregnant for the second time and was advised bed rest. So, I stopped going to work. Instead, I would go there once a month, and bring material home, so that I could work out of my home with ease. In this way, I would earn Rs 300 to 400 per week. I worked five months into my pregnancy and then took complete bed rest.
I admitted my elder son to school five months after the second delivery. The school was near my home, his school ended at 3 PM, and my work at the Bindi factory was till 5 PM. I had to get my son from school but I did not know how to manage both. There used to be a girl in my apartment on the 4th floor. She worked at Idea (the company) as a tele-caller. I told her that I was looking for work from 9:30 AM to 3 PM. I asked her if she could put in a word for me at her office. She told her superior about me and my young son who I would be carrying with me to the office. The superior agreed to meet me. They were in need of someone who could convince their subscribers to convert their prepaid plans to postpaid. The employee would be paid Rs 270 per successful conversation.
The next day, after sending my elder son to school, I took my younger son with me and walked 2 Km to reach the office. The superior made me sit on the balcony because I had to feed my son. I was given a phone and SIM card, and data of all the callers. I sat on the balcony and started on all the calls with my son in my lap. I managed to sell around 6-7 SIMs per month. One day, on my way to work, an old man stopped his two-wheeler beside me and offered to give me a lift because I was “walking in hot son with a small kid.” I felt pitiful about my situation. I remember that feeling of extreme sadness till date.
Once my younger son was 3, I admitted him to the same school as my elder son. I also asked one of the teachers if she could babysit my sons while I was at work. She agreed to do that. I paid her Rs. 400 per month for taking care of them after school. Meanwhile, I also looked for other work opportunities.
Once, a cousin of mine was visiting us in Hyderabad. He used to work in an NGO that I had grown to love ever since I was a little girl. The NGO people have helped me in all stages of my life. I had gotten brain fever as a child. They admitted me to the hospital and looked after me till I recovered. After marriage, when I had difficulties with my in-laws, the NGO supported me. Later, when I got pregnant, they took me to the hospital for regular checkups. When I started experiencing pains in my 8th month, the NGO staff gathered money out of their pockets to send me to a hospital called Niloufar in Hyderabad.
I asked my cousin if he could get me work in any NGO. But I was also sceptical because I had finished only 10th class and did not know English. I was not sure if anyone would hire me with that qualification. He encouraged me to at least try. He spoke to the Director of an NGO he knew and got me a job. Two-three days into my joining, the staff there said, “You come from a village, you don’t know anything, how did the superiors even hire you?” I was struck.
I realised I knew nothing about my workplace. I did not know which level staff sat on what kind of chairs. I suffered in silence but did not quit because I was determined to keep this job at any cost. I worked in that NGO for 1½ years. After that, I heard about vacancies in Bhumika Women’s Collective and gave my resume. I got selected eventually. When I first joined Bhumika, I did not know that there are separate laws for women and girls. After joining there, I learned a great deal about the laws. I also read a lot of manuals and books. I went to bastis, spoke to the people, and listened to their concerns. Many of them reminded me of the struggles I had faced. The knowledge from my own experiences and training lent me some power and helped me in actively engaging with the women in the field.
It has been 12 years since I came to Hyderabad. My first salary was Rs. 2, now I am earning Rs. 22,000 per month.
The story is written by Manjula Onteru. She is working as a Community Mobiliser in Bhumika Women’s Collective (Hyderabad), an organisation working to eradicate violence against women.
Credits:
Story by Manjula
Translation by Raghavi
Mentors by Ruchika and Madhuri
Artwork by Sharvari Deshpande
Produced by the Centre for Budget and Policy Studies and The Third Eye
