Jayalakshmi
is a domestic violence survivor,
and her story is that of lakhs of other Indian women. That is why it needs to
be told
Her father, once upon a
time, owned a number of theatres in Andhra Pradesh. He was semi-literate, and
he paid a price for that – quite dearly. He was duped by friends and partners
and lost all he had, except his family. Hounded by debtors and driven by hunger,
the man, his wife and three daughters fled to neighbouring Karnataka.
There was little,
however, that her father could do to pull the family out of the woods. He could
not get over the sense of betrayal or loss of fortune. Before the family could
realise, he had gone mad. The woman and her three little daughters were now
left to fend for themselves. The mother started out as a domestic help in
Bangalore. Jayalakshmi was barely eight at the time.
In another eight years,
she would be married off, and would tread her mother’s path, by washing
utensils and sweeping the houses of the better off. Her problems were only
beginning.
Only a few months had
passed, when the man of her life started accusing her of infidelity. He
probably had a guilt complex chewing him from the inside – he was himself wont
to be sleeping around. The accusations didn’t come alone; they were accompanied
by violence. Brutal.
Sixteen years and three
sons later, nothing much has changed for Jayalakshmi on the domestic front. No,
let’s be straight on this – the man hasn’t changed. He remains sadistic, drinks
himself violent, and steals from her meagre earnings. He is a satyr, and has no
end to sexual urges. He needs to watch porn on their television even while the
children are asleep in the shack they share in the Shampur area. Protests are
met with, needless to say, brutally.
Jayalakshmi doesn’t lose
focus. She works in six homes from six in the morning till seven in the
evening, and her life revolves around her three sons. The eldest is 14, the
little one ten. She manages five grand a month, of which 1,400 goes towards
house rent. She still manages to send the children to school, and feed them as
well. The husband lives off her, and gambles away.
She hasn’t lost her sense
of self-respect either. Men lust after her, incessantly asking her for sexual
favours. Jayalakshmi wards them off, with dignity.
The women of the
households where she works identify with her to varying extents. They donate
the rice she desperately needs – times of inflation or otherwise. When she got
her bonus for the month of Ramzan, the first thing Jayalakshmi did was run to
the school to pay the fees. Every time that she gets a hundred rupee note,
Nargis can virtually see her calculating what amount will need to go where. The
beast meanwhile, continues to live off her, stealing the money she sets aside
for a rainy day in garbage bins. She has reasons to fear the man – he and a few
friends of his had once allegedly murdered a woman in the area.
The first thing one loses
in times of adversity, probably, is humour; Jayalakshmi hasn’t, despite being a
domestic violence survivor.
Jayalakshmi’s mother died
of cancer a few years back. Both the younger sisters are married, and the
husbands thankfully provide for them. Her father’s condition grew worse over
the years, and then one day he simply walked out of the house, never to return.
That was five years ago.
The first thing one loses
in times of adversity, probably, is humour; Jayalakshmi hasn’t despite being a
domestic violence survivor. She is incisively witty, and that possibly is one
of the reasons why she gets along with Nargis.
Wisdom does not come from
education; Jayalakshmi is a living example of the contention. When Nargis’ own
uncle had to be sent to an institution for the mentally ill, words of wisdom
came from her help: “Don’t use harsh words against them. They don’t do these
things on purpose.” Our maid would have known; as a child she had seen her
father transform into a sorry creature who would even gnaw away at the walls in
dismay.
My piece was to have been
about a domestic violence survivor. Could I call Jayalakshmi that? Nargis has
an answer : “in spite of such a husband and a lecherous society, in spite of
financial restraints, when a woman has come to this point where her kids are
into schooling and she is not into debts, and shows signs of progress and keeps
her spirits high. That’s a survivor.”
So there we are.
There is probably nothing
outstanding about Jayalakshmi. Her story could also be that of lakhs of such
women out there. That’s why this story needs to be told.
