An Invincible Deadness

Nationalism is a shared feeling of being one in spite of the  odds in a society like poverty, creed, beliefs, social and economic conditions. Nationalism is well preached  as patriotism well before elections prioritizing  a secular spirit, sovereignty and fairness to bond people. Who would prefer not to be a Nationalist in a country like India, which is known for its rich heritage and ethnicity at the brink of the trustworthiness of people.  

Rekha sat down and rested her back to the wall of the railing, cold wind gushed through the openings making her shiver, and  she felt clumsier than ever in the uniform given by the educational institution.  She yearned for the warmth of her saree. She bent to  have a look at herself, she was wearing the hard leather like, boys shoes,  a navy blue pant and a striped shirt. It was the uniform of the institution where she worked. The dress was introduced as a mark of respect, and to make the maids look modern and well-groomed to suit the environment, but the job was the same. She was appointed in this huge institution to clean the restrooms, the toilets and the corridors.

The institution had many floors, many corridors and many more washrooms. There were several women like her who came early in the morning adorned in sarees, but  they had to change into the uniform to gain  a distinction and work for their livelihood. Rekha felt unwell today, she felt feverish as the frosty wind  gusted through the bars, it made her terribly sick as she looked at the messy footprints on the floor. She had cleaned the washroom sparkling clean just then, put the board, “Sorry for the Inconvenience” and had placed the wet mop to block the door, but  then she saw Neethi the professor enter in a haste before she could caution.

Neethi was considerate, she wiped her feet on the poke mat to clean her feet, but the students rushed behind her. It had rained heavily the last night and the mud and puddles had dirtied their shoes, leaving pug marks on the shiny clean tiles. Rekha felt tired as there would be an inspection soon and any footprints on the floor would be justified by the inspector as  a mark of negligence on her part. As she sat ill, memories flooded and she was hurled back into her childhood. 

They lived in the outskirts of the city in a shanty. Rekha belonged to a large family of four sisters and 3 brothers, she remembered her mother a tall lady who was dark, and well built with a round face. She combed her hair forever into a bun. She had seldom seen her mother leave her hair open. She wore a typical shining Bindi on her forehead and that was the mark that depicted her society, they were typically called by a weird name that was related to a clan.  Rekha as a girl never understood its meaning till the day the school teacher asked her to wash the toilet in the school. Her mother was annoyed at hearing that her daughter was asked to do  a menial job while the other students studied.

Occasionally, when she accompanied her mother to work she could see her mother wash the toilets which were built outside the homes of the rich. Rekha would carry disinfectants and cleaners for the ladies in the houses where her mother worked, but they would pay her at a distance.  Many a times the ladies would call  her and ask to stand away and throw the food into her palms. She never minded it as a child, but could see her mother’s tear filled eyes. As a young girl, she wondered why her mother had to clean the toilets of the rich for a very low price, she was told “we belong to the caste of scavengers”. 

The men and women who cleaned the toilets lived huddled in shacks and shanties away from the society. Their roles were varied. They were human scavengers and would clean the manholes in the houses, as the drainage system was still not laid in these places. The day, her father,  cleaned the sewer, he would have his bath at a distant place. He never wanted the germs to spread, he definitely knew the hygiene part.

Rekha never wanted to join this line, she did not want to clean toilets for sure, her aim was to become a doctor. The few days she went to the school were always spent in cleaning or scavenging. One of the days her mother was found suffering with a rare respiratory disorder, perhaps it was due to the hydrochloric acid and the disinfectants. She suffered with cough, blood tinged sputum and had a trouble in breathing. Being the eldest Rekha took up her mother’s responsibilities. Now her younger siblings carried the disinfectants. Her life revolved in the washrooms, drainages and the dirtiness in life.

Her marriage was a big compromise in life, but her husband and she had decided that they would educate their children well. She had taken up this job in the educational institute as there was an improvement in the life styles of people. They believed in cleaning their homes, and a well laid drainage system had reduced their means of earning. Rekha knew no other occupation. The educational institution was kind, her fellow friends belonged to various walks of life and there was great bonding. The institution respected them and provided the dignity of labour that was missing in her childhood, yet she found people move away from them as they carried the wastes and avoid them. She felt she belonged to a society far different from the one people loved being a part of. They were no longer poor or deprived, yet the feeling prevailed.

 She suddenly felt a cold palm on her forehead, she opened her eyes to see professor Neethi’s palm on her forehead. She said, “Rekha, your forehead is burning hot, why don’t you go home and rest”, tears gushed out of Rekha’s eyes, she had never been spoken to thus. Perhaps, it was the bliss of feeling another soul,  or it was the ecstasy of putting an end to the untouchability she had experienced throughout her life.

"To say that a single human being, because of his birth, becomes an untouchable, unapproachable, or invisible, is to deny God." M K Gandhi