Fathima is a maid servant who comes to clean my Airbnb apartment in South Delhi every morning. In July, 2022 I moved to New Delhi from New York City. I rented out this place for a month. She comes at 10:00 am every morning to sweep and mop the floor, take out the trash, do the dishes and water the pot plants on my terrace. She’ll do my laundry and change my sheets once a week. Fathima tells me she is only 22 or 23 years because she doesn’t know her age correctly. In that case, she probably started working with my host’s family at the age of 17 or 18 years old. She has two daughters aged 6 and 2 years. She probably became a mother at the age of 17 and got married at the age of 16.
My host mentioned that Fathima is very trustworthy, she has been working with them for five years now. I grew up in South India and a maid served my family for almost 18 years. I exactly know what it means to be trustworthy. Trustworthy in this case essentially means two things. She doesn’t lift things or money even if she were to see wads of cash lying around (India is still a cash economy largely). She’ll probably act like she hasn’t seen the currency bills or give them back to its rightful owner. The other part of her trustworthiness is that she’ll come to work every day in relentless heat and humidity of Delhi. She’ll also make it on the days when there is a torrential downpour. She makes $100 per month working as a maid in two homes. She’ll get days off only either when she or her two young daughters fall sick. My host’s family is nice to her in their own way. They’ll look after her and her family in small ways that they deem considerate. Guests like me will tip her or leave her small gifts for her service.
As I started talking to Fathima, I learned that her husband doesn’t go to work. I asked her why? I thought addiction issues and utter irresponsibility. Turns out, he is a paraplegic. she was married off to a man who is paralyzed in his two legs when she was 16. They moved to the city of Delhi in search of better life. He stays home and keeps an eye on their two-year-old while she comes to work as a maid. He apparently collects a small sum of money, $50 monthly from the government as a disability pension. I asked her if he became paralyzed after marriage. She said he was like that when she married him. I was utterly baffled. I am not sure if he is paraplegic or polio stricken. Fathima further shared that she lost her mother when she was days old and her father remarried and left her and her three older brothers to fend for themselves. They stayed in their village working as farm labourers and they migrated to the city one after the other.
This morning, I made her upma (flavorful South Indian breakfast dish made with semolina) served it with a dollop of ghee and green mango pickle. She ate a small portion and said she never tasted it before and she quite liked it. She could only have a small helping as she can only eat little at a time.
She’ll have to go back home and cook, clean and wash for her family. I asked how her husband passes time and she said he sits out and spends time on his mobile phone. I asked her if she gets angry and she said she yells at her daughters as she gets very tired through the day. I thought of the rage I carried in my heart for many, many years. I processed my rage but what about Fathima? How will she ever climb out of that abyss?
