Stories of Excluded Women

7/31/2019 Stories of Excluded Women

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Story 1: Leela

It is a chilly December morning. Kaushalya walks through the lanes of Maroonda village in

Mahoba, Uttar Pradesh to find Leelas house. Leela has been identified as one of the respondents

for the study on the IGMSY.

As Kaushalya nears the kaccha hut that is Leelas house she can hear the excited screams of

children playing in the yard. She enters the aangan to find four small children running around,

barefooted and scarcely dressed despite the cold. The hut is small and stands miserably in the

midst of the courtyard. A group of bent old women are huddled on the verandah. A narrow dirty

drain flows below the verandah. It is choked with rubbish that causes a stream of dirty water to

stagnate in there. A goat tied on one corner of the platform chews thoughtfully at some grass.

Kaushalya finds Leela squatting in a corner of the aangan, her face hidden behind a long

ghoonghat washing a wailing infant. She turns to see Kaushalya and greets her with an

imperceptible nod of her head. As Kaushalya waits patiently for her at the verandah, one of the old

women asks her why she is there. Kaushalya explains about the IGMSY and one of them is quickto say that her daughter-in-law is yet to receive the promised compensation. She looks at

Kaushalya expectantly for some help, who tells the old woman that her daughter-in-law will

receive money in due time but right now she has come to meet Leela.

As they settle down onto a ragged charpoy in the aangan the group of old women disperses. The

baby in Leelas arms lets out a loud hungry wail and she is promptly put to the breast. Leela and

her husband Kashi belong to the Kushwaha caste. They make ends meet working as wage

labourers in the stone quarries nearby. On the days that she does not get work Leela goes to the

small field that they own to get fodder. All of 28 years, Leela has already had seven pregnancies.

Two of her children died when they were still young. Now she has a six year old son who goes toschool and three daughters who are sent to the anganwadi centre in the village. The youngest is the

gurgling five month old baby girl in her arms. Leela is shy and remains silent when Kaushalya asks

her why she or her husband have not undergone a nasbandi till now. She then reluctantly

responds, He didnt want it till now. Now I am going to get it done.

The baby is fast asleep now and Leela strokes her face gently. My daughter was born in the

hospital. The people from the village had arranged for a taxi for me and my husband to go when I

was in labor. But gudiya needed an operation after she was born. She could not urinate and the

operation was needed to rectify that. Now she is fine. Kaushalya asks, How much did you spend

on treatments? We spent on medicines. The rest was free. But every time one went there one hadto spend at least Rs.400.

Kaushalya looks at her lean body, wrinkled belly and gnarled fingers and her face hidden by the

ghoonghat. She cannot help but wonder whether this body that has weathered so much gets to rest

or have its fill, at least when it is carrying. Kaushalya pauses and feels hesitant to ask questions

about food. But she has to do it. It is part of her work. On being asked about what and how often


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she ate during her pregnancy Leela promptly answers that she ate thrice a day. The morning tea is

counted as a meal. Lunch and dinner consist of rotis with vegetable ordal. On some days it was

only rotis, a piece of onion and some salt. Kaushalya does not want to press further.

She asks, Did you get rest during your pregnancy? Leela lifts herghunghatwith two fingers and

looks at her and passes a half helpless smile. She then says with a little indignation, How can thepoor rest? You tell me. I stopped going for work after eight months of my pregnancy because I had

no choice. My body had given up. I just couldnt work anymore. I used to feel ill and giddy. I had

to visit the hospital four times in course of my pregnancy. Once by taxi because I passed out at

night and needed to be rushed to the hospital that is in Mahoba. It is difficult to get there.

Kaushalya can imagine the woman looks practically emaciated.

Leela continues, My sister-in-law came to help me, but that was one of the rare occasions when

there was work in the village. So she would also go formazdoori. I stayed at home but did all the

housework. From dawn to dusk I was at it. Who else will do it? She continues, After the baby

was born I rested for 10 days, on the 11th I was up and about doing all the housework except thingslike fetching water or lifting heavy weights. I started going out to earn money within a month and a

half of the delivery. I would carry my little daughter to the site and leave her by the road and keep

an eye on her while I worked. The maaliknever complained when I got up to breastfeed her. My

son took care of her there. I thought your son goes to school.says Kaushalya. Some days he

does and on other days he doesnt. On the days that he goes to school he comes back after lunch

time to wherever it is that I am working and takes care of the baby. Without him it would be hard. I

feel very tired and weak but I have to go for work. How will we eat otherwise? As it is we had to

take a loan of Rs.4000 from Pratap Thakur at Rs.5 persaikada. That, we somehow managed to pay

back without much loss because I got back to work early.

She looks pensive and then looks down at the baby. Her rumination is interrupted by a little girl

who runs in gaily to complain about her brother who is pinching her. Leela thwacks her back

distractedly and the child disappointed at the lack of interest on her mothers part walks away

pulling faces at her brother. As it is, it is so difficult to make sure everyone sleeps on a full

stomach and when I dont work it becomes even harder. The children do not get enough to eat and

so, just so that, they are not hungry I continue to breastfeed them till as long as I can. She

recounts how even the worm infested panjeeri given as part of the supplementary nutrition

programme at the Anganwadi centre is at times cleaned and made into laddoos for consumption.

Kaushalya realizes then that Leelas earlier account of her eating habits is not entirely true - her

pride probably stops her from saying more about the meager meals that they partake of given that

they dont even have a ration card. Kashi has approached the pradhan two-three times to get a

ration card but he has not helped them out yet despite his promises.

Leela listens carefully to Kaushalyas descriptions of the IGMSY scheme and to the reasons for

her ineligibility. Leela is puzzled and at the same time knows that she is being penalized because

she has more than two children. Why are women with more children kept out of the scheme? We


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need more support, no? We have more liabilities. If I had got that Rs.4000 then I wouldnt have

had to take that loan! Leela is clear about what she wants from the sarkar. She wants free

treatment for her children and free good quality medicines so that she can take care of her children

well. Her children could also go to school and be healthy. She looks down at her hands and adds

Women suffer from weakness and khoon ki kami. Thesarkarshould give them blood so that they

can feel stronger. She looks at Kaushalya but her thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the baby in

her lap who stirs and is awake now.

Right now there are pressing concerns that demand urgent attention and cut short her flight of

imagination.

Story 2:Nandini

Yeddeghadi village in Bargarh district, Odisha wears a forlorn look. It is not new to loss. The

statue of the goddess Raadhegudi at the entrance of Yeddeghadi has borne mute witness to people

abandoning this land since the last two hundred years. Bargarh is right next to the KBK districts

but does not share their formidable reputation. This year like the last three has not seen a drop of

rain. Even the winter air is dry as a bone. So poor is the land in its productivity that even those

owning as much as eight acres of land work as masons in Bolangir!

A brown hut with low gables on the sides stands in a sparse courtyard on the edges of Yeddeghadi.

It is surrounded by a low parapet all around. Half naked children cavort around on the dusty road

by the side of which the hut stands. The loud rhythmic sounds from hand looms in the nearby huts

rent the air. Twenty eight year old Nandini cooks in one corner of a covered verandah of the neatly

plastered mud hut. The small corner that is her kitchen has washed aluminum pots and pans

stacked in a tub while reed baskets hang from the ceiling made of rough logs of wood. A pot of

curry is bubbling away on the fire when Dhanashree enters the hut. Nandini hears her footsteps and

turns around to smile at her. I was expecting you, she says. Dhanashree is thirty. She is

enthusiastic and has a ready smile. She is meeting women from villages in Krishnapur block and

talking to them as part of the study of the IGMSY.

Dhanashree sits on a cot next to the front door. It is adorned with a tattered yellow and red toran

which has lost its former glory. She looks around at the verandah and her eyes take in the clutter of

sacks at one end and the clothes bunched up on a clothesline. A piece of broken mirror has been

plastered into the wall behind her to serve as a looking glass. A baby girl sleeps peacefully on one

corner of the cot. Nandini fetches tea and some snacks from her little shop outside. She has had a

busy day. A kerosene powered rice mill does its job. The morning has been spent in parboiling and

putting out to dry two vats of grain. The winter chill means that it will take longer to dry. Just then

her husband Siba walks in with a sack ofguron his head. They will be selling it in their little shop.


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Nandini settles down to answer Dhanashrees questions. She leans over to check on the baby

before sitting down on the floor to talk. Nandini has had three daughters, the first of who was born

through a caesarean procedure. All her children have been born at the private hospitals in the

adjoining district of Bolangir. It has meant considerable sums of money. What to do? The hospital

here does not provide any services. Nandini continues, The government needs to make things

work in the hospitals here. No services are available. It is of no use to go there. That is why we go

to private hospitals. At least one can be assured of ones well being.

They have had to take loans but the small shop has helped them to be able to return the money

without having to sell anything at home. She says that she prefers the hospitals in Bolangir, Their

services are of good quality. Computer testing is available and the doctor pays attention.

Nandini invites Dhanashree to share lunch which is ready. The latter declines and watches as

Nandini sets the food out for her husband who is leaving for the local market at Krishnapur. The

plate has rice, greens some daland bhujia. After Siba has left Dhanashree asks her about her meals

when she was carrying her baby girl. One needs to eat well to have a healthy baby. I ate the samefood and had rice cakes. He goes out frequently and keeps getting something or the other to eat-

fruits like apples, oranges and grapes. We might have spent about a thousand rupees on that. She

adds, The chhatua from the anganwadi is also tasty. I roast it and make snacks that we all eat.

They have got the BPL card recently. The rice, sugar and kerosene from the ration shop have made

life much easier for them. Nandini looks happy. How much we had to pursue thepradhan to get

this! She exclaims. Dhanashree sees that she is a slight but energetic woman. Her in-laws have

been most supportive. They have taken care of her. After the third month I didnt do any heavy

work. My nieces used to fetch water when I was pregnant.

In this drought prone village where that yearly migration is an accepted part of life for decades

now Nandini and Siba who are Keutas (SC) have managed to deal with the rigours of bearing

children and taking care of them. Between two of her pregnancies Nandini had to be operated on

for a lump in the uterus. All of this has probably been made possible because of a relatively stable

income. Their little shop, Dhanashree can see, is quite popular. For these parts it is reasonably well

stocked. There have been two customers in the last half an hour. The additional support from state

services like the PDS and the Anganwadi has made it possible for them to emerge with relatively

few losses, as compared to many others in their own and neighbouring villages. This is not to

discount the presence of a caring extended family. However there were many who did not make it

in the same way; that presence notwithstanding.

Does Nandini want anything from the government and the IGMSY? Everything seems to be fine

with her. Dhanashree checks her thoughts. How easy it is to fall into these traps! The poor are

constantly evaluated to for signs of abject poverty and near destitution. Any exhibition of well

being or relative comfort makes us doubt the need for state support. They are undeserving!


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She smiles at Nandini who thinks that good health care services are a must, the lack of which is

forcing people like her to go out to avail them. On the question of the IGMSY she expresses her

opinion, albeit a little feebly, The government should take care of everybody. Dhanashree

notices that she stays away from the question of the number of children as a condition for being a

beneficiary. The mildly chastised look on the face that had been spirited up till now speaks

volumes of the lack of a language to question this rule. She has crossed the line. She has been too

fertile!

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Stories of Excluded Women