The route I usually take to office has these cloth factories tucked away behind non-descript facades. Sometimes, when I am late, I find it transformed. Half an hour's delay casts me in the middle of a sea of humanity.Waves of women, walking, some running… to work. All hues and shades, brightly colored sarees, salwar suits, some with purses, some without, all with well oiled, neatly tied hair with a sprig of flowers tucked in with a pin.
They walk as if in a daze, I’ve never seen one smile. They don't talk... masses of women, and not a word spoken. They have this purposeful stride, they have to get to the factory on time, else they lose their wages.
When I look at them, I wonder... what are their lives like? These working women, who are so different than you and I... who walk miles to get to that factory and work like machines from 9-5?
They don't have air conditioned offices, respectful colleagues, cars to drive to work in, maids to run errands, hot food and warm beds waiting at home. And I picture what their day would be like... getting up at 5 in the morning, cook, clean, stand in line for water probably, send the kids to school, the husband to work. Rush through their toilette and start the long walk to work.
Work with the leering manager hovering around and scowling at every tea break. Stand the long hours under the hot tin roof and the lint filling their nostrils. Walk back to the house with its endless chores, the hungry children to be fed, the gods to be prayed, and probably a drunken horny husband waiting to be laid.
How do they survive? Do they have time to look for meaning in their lives? Do they know what boredom is? Do they "hang out" with friends? Have they ever taken a "hobby class"? Gone out to eat? Stayed in bed a Saturday morning? Read a book over Sunday brunch? Do they do any of the things we take for granted?
And when I think of all this, I wonder... we have so much... yet we make so little of it. I get restless on weekends; because I have nothing to do... would I swap for a day of back breaking thankless work? I fidget if I don't hang out with my friends. I get angry if the chores I do are not appreciated. I want "me time" and "space" and I like to "do my own thing". Do these women do that?
Maybe, they are there as a reminder to me... to be thankful for what I have and to make the most of it... But sometimes... it's so easy to forget and look the other way!
