‘I had nobody to share my pain with. My husband would beat me up if I told him and peers would take my advantage if told them,’ Nakdi smiled smelling of fresh, grounded spices as she sat on the floor, staring at me. My repeated requests of using the chair wouldn’t let her shift from her position as she blushed like a young girl who just had her periods.
‘But why didn’t just divorce your husband?’ I stormed out of my usual concern.
‘Oh could I?’ she nodded her head and laughed. ‘My father left me with him.’
‘But tolerating everything when you were the one to take care of your 4 children and 3 daughters?’ I couldn’t really understand how a woman who was so empowered herself would withstand such abuse!
‘Yes! But what else could I do? I did want to die sometimes. Perhaps drink poison or jump in front of a train but just didn’t.’
‘And it must have been terrible for you to go through all these changes. Wasn’t it?’
‘That’s a part of life. Grow up and you will understand but I pray to God so that you don’t need to face all these hardships,’ she tells me. ‘It’s true that I had to struggle a lot. After my husband lost his job with the closing down of the factory at Kamarhati (on the outskirts of Kolkata) where he worked, we migrated to Kolkata. He took up the job of a daily wager for construction sites while I started working as domestic help. He became an alcoholic and spent all his money while I managed the household. Yes, times were difficult. But now we have a home of our own.’
Nakdi, who was once our domestic help and now has retired owing to the stability of her children, comes to visit us when visits are children in Kolkata. Her real name is Kanak Purkait. Married at the age of 19, she belonged to those extremely low economic backgrounds and could only get the chance to study until Grade 7 owing to her father’s financial condition. Life was never easy for her but she was committed to her family. She managed her household all by herself with an alcoholic husband who would beat her up almost every day and meeting the demands of her 7 children, undergoing labor pain and menstrual cramps, using only cloth pads. Currently, she has moved back to her village and has a small farmland. She doesn’t regret. Her serenity brightened my birthday as she got me a large bottle of coke. With her, I celebrated freedom, the joy of making it through, counting every stone as we walk along, true to ourselves and to the ones we love.