Steps in the house with a bunch of marigolds, roses or hibiscuses
puts near Mum's altar, picks the chalk, the bucket and the mug
heads for space outside the front door
washes and draws rangoli pattern
an Indian morning ritual.
A gappy smile for Padma, the neighbour's maid
both exchange their daily chitchat
hands draw beautiful rangoli designs on the floor.
9 am, Sarojini's second or third house by then,
a grin for the family members when eyes meet,
the gap of her lost front tooth an accustomed view
as the scorching sun outside in the south Indian city.
Similar chores repeated flat after flat
vessels in the sink, the rooms, the bathrooms, the kitchen slab,
the thrash binned and more.
Up and down, just as the lift of the building.
her feet get some rest when shouted for tea and breakfast
breakfast skipped, packed for her fatherless boys
hot sugary tea, her energy booster, back in the loop once more.
Round and round from one room to another,
from one house to another
as a Ferris wheel she spins till sun sets.
but. another house still left
her shack, chores need to be finished,
boys need to be fed; her treadmill does not stop.
Her daily milestone of ten thousand or twenty thousand steps or more
no smart watch to track, no one to pat and no one to share or compare with.
A relief in every Indian housewife's face,
the minute the maid rings the calling bell.
Housewife's smile warmer for the maid
than for the husband when he comes back.
The husband may earn
the lift may carry people and their bags
but she relieves the fatigue of every housewife.
In addition, the building gossip, the maids share
who bought a new car, which flat's
tenant has left or who is the whiny neighbour
and more, the topics and names change
an unpaid entertainment at all times.
Sarojini or Padma, to name a few
backbone of every Indian household,
their backbones do get tired too
but none remembers
as their motor never stops to spin.
Monday, July 7, 2025
MAIDS OF HONOUR
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