By Savitri Narayanan
Asha Madam was on leave and it was Gupta Sir who came for substitution.
“Everyone open your Hindi book to the current lesson,” he looked around the class and said, “Follow your roll number and read a paragraph each!”
He had brought along a heap of notebooks. Soon, he got engrossed in his own task, correction. The class was getting increasingly boring and the students more and more restless. They looked longingly at the playground where some class – must be their sports period – ran around merrily and, also, at their lunchboxes lined on the windowsill.
To their relief, the bell chimed soon, Gupta Sir rose from the chair and went out with his notebooks. Within seconds, the students grabbed their lunchboxes and ran outdoors.
The ground came alive as children headed for their regular spots with their friends, exchanging news, complaints, jokes and talking about everything under the sun!
“Your mom must be a good cook!” said Sushi, her eyes on Smriti. “A delicious smell spreads around as you open your lunchbox!”
They were seated on the bench under the peepul tree.
“And it looks delicious and colourful too!” added Veena. “Beans, carrots, pumpkin and even some gourd!”
“Thanks! Mom always talks about nutrition and balanced diet!” Smriti said glowing in the compliment.
“She’s a housewife, right?” Sini joined in the conversation. “My mom is a career woman, gets hardly any time for housework; so, we have two maids!”
“‘Homemaker’ and ‘helper’ are the words used these days,” Zaheera chipped in, “‘housewife’ and ‘maid’ have had their time!”
Zaheera smiled, pleased with herself as she stood beside the bench with a rolled-up roti in hand.
Sini was clearly offended. There was contempt and a tone of dismissal as she concluded, “Whatever be the word, the work they do is housekeeping!”
On the other hand, Smriti’s voice was kind as she offered, “Zaheera, share some subzi from mine! Here’s plenty!”
Though no one talked about it, everyone had noticed how Zaheera ate only a couple of rotis for lunch. Her water bottle would be open from which she took large gulps in between.
“Zaheera, have half of this cupcake!” offered Sushi, extending the cake. Her father worked in a bakery so often she had ‘goodies’ in her lunchbox.
“No thank you, friend!” said Zaheera as she gulped more water. “I’m ok with my lunch! My stomach is full!”
“How is it possible? You eat only rotis for lunch, just rotis!”
“That’s not true; there’s pickle inside it! Mango, lemon, aamla, etc., mouthwatering!”
“That doesn’t give you enough nutrition! Zaheera, please share some subzi from mine!”
Zaheera had unwittingly attracted attention! She noticed a small group of students had gathered around! Friends, known faces, onlookers but the expression was the same- of concern, care and curiosity!
“Thanks for your concern but don’t worry about me!” said Zaheera, “I’m perfectly ok as I eat a good dinner and a good breakfast!”
Zaheera’s father was a fisherman, owned his own small boat. At dawn he ventured out into the river with his fishing net. Out of the morning’s catch, some he delivered home for his regular clients, the rest was sold in the fish market. The same was done in the evenings too. Zaheera’s mother went to three bungalows to sweep the floor and wash the dishes.
“You mean your mother is a maid?”
“Many men and women pursue their careers thanks to ‘helpers’ like my mom!” There was pride in Zaheera’s voice. “Being a ‘helper’ is her career! In the evenings she cooks dinner – fish curry or fried fish along with rice!”
“I love fried fish! Zaheera, please save some for me and bring along tomorrow!”
“Sorry friend, we don’t own a fridge!” laughed Zaheera. “Wait till I grow up; will pursue a career become rich and invite you all to our bungalow for lunch! We’ll have lots of fish curry, you can take some home too!”
At the bell, as they headed to their classrooms, Zaheera walked tall, glowing in the many glances of admiration.
