Part 1
She orders some tea at the chai walah downstairs. Holds that plastic cup but her eyes are holding the Zari machinery. She sips unknowingly and looks at the street of Hanuman tekra number 4 in Golwad. Her son must be on his way back to home. She dumps the plastic cup and crushes it underneath her foot. Rubbing her glittery forehead, she goes inside the house and methodically starts holding the golden threads to fill them in the rolls. Her husband is also doing similar kind of work, but at a different place. At a relatives' place. They all know each other and so the work becomes familiar and familial. But he doesn't get the family money, he will just get the wages, approx five to eight thousand rupees per month. He comes back home in the evening. Opens a bottle of scotch, made from fake essence and drinks it. She is busy cooking the meal. The radio has been turned off now. It was a companion for the whole day's work with glitters.
Now, it is the real world. The reality shoots in the house. The wooden staircase has fossilized the hard work and is resonating pain. The ceilings have befriended the rainfall and so the water from the skies observes them. The noises from the other end of the street are of the gamblers. They have come in cars, someone will make a lot of money tonight and someone will lose. The fingers of people inhabiting this house seem blunt, with flat nails. Some even have scratches that run into dark colors. One can see his face in the same room and can cook meals in the same room. The mattress is adjacent to the boxes of copper threads to be processed to make zari. A second hand school book with names scribbled has its corners folded because of the carton of empty reels that has been mistakenly placed on it. The house has sections, but no rooms. There are no walls. The walls are outside the houses, the invisible and the inevitable.
She stills thinks about it. She has autonomy, she can spend her money but she has to work for it. She wonders if this is same for all the 'she' out there. The Zari business has seen huge recession now it is no longer the silver and gold zari but it is metallic zari and that yields very less. Everyone in the family has to work, it is a difficult world.She shares some gossip with her neighbor. They tell her, the story of 'she' is different everywhere. Not everyone has to work this much. But why? Because they didn't like daughters and now they have a poor sex ratio of girls over boys. Is that why they want to marry daughters of our community? Yes. Our daughters adapt easily and besides that, there's very little work one has to do. All one has to do, is to cook some nice meal and watch television. She had heard about it, but now it is more or less clear.
Part 2
He is sitting on that small wooden chair and folding the packets to be arranged neatly in his 100 year old shop in Begumpura. The shop is small and he doesn't want to change anything about it, not even its visual contours. He is worried about his son. He is now 25 and is unmarried. He has learnt some computer accounting and works in a 'company' and earns about twelve thousand every month. Who will give his daughter? He tried to bring him in this shop and expand the business but that has been an unsuccessful attempt. Whenever he comes, he would sneak out with his friends and spend money on food and tea, laughing and chatting at some crossroads. That's why he has asked him to better be in the 'company'.
His house is in Sonifaliya. A flat that hosts people from various communities. He likes chicken and mutton, so burns incense sticks and cooks so that nobody knows about it. The irony is that, a street next to Soni Faliya, there are Muslim who eat this on a daily basis. But he doesn't want to go to their localities and eat chicken/mutton. He wants to get his son married and no girl will come to his flat in Soni Faliya. He has to change his house to some other locality. He is trying to save money for that.
He gets to know from his son that there is a girl who is nice and would be fit for the family. She is from Golwad. She has been busy doing the Zari making work since her childhood. She is not much bothered if he lives in Soni Faliya because she would be fine anywhere. She belongs to Gola community and he belongs to Ghanchi community, they have similar culture of eating non-vegetarian food and consuming alcohol. The alliance would work very well. Besides that, a Ghanchi girl would want a car, a house in Adajan area, a well paying job or a business and she might throw tantrums.
People living in the neighborhood could afford moving to Adajan because most of their family members are in the Powerloom sector. Powerloom has always been a great area to work, the Marwadis have also created a lot of capital by entering the sector.The saraiya or the incense sticks business doesnt yield much and the 'company' doesn't pay well either.
Part 3
All day she has to work. She hopes that once she is married to a Ghanchi, she would not have to work this much. She could go to the weekend trips to Piplod with her husband. She could take a nap in the afternoon and escape the golden glitter on her face.
All that she would miss is, ordering tea in plastic cups from a local vendor at her own wish.
She orders some tea at the chai walah downstairs. Holds that plastic cup but her eyes are holding the Zari machinery. She sips unknowingly and looks at the street of Hanuman tekra number 4 in Golwad. Her son must be on his way back to home. She dumps the plastic cup and crushes it underneath her foot. Rubbing her glittery forehead, she goes inside the house and methodically starts holding the golden threads to fill them in the rolls. Her husband is also doing similar kind of work, but at a different place. At a relatives' place. They all know each other and so the work becomes familiar and familial. But he doesn't get the family money, he will just get the wages, approx five to eight thousand rupees per month. He comes back home in the evening. Opens a bottle of scotch, made from fake essence and drinks it. She is busy cooking the meal. The radio has been turned off now. It was a companion for the whole day's work with glitters.
Now, it is the real world. The reality shoots in the house. The wooden staircase has fossilized the hard work and is resonating pain. The ceilings have befriended the rainfall and so the water from the skies observes them. The noises from the other end of the street are of the gamblers. They have come in cars, someone will make a lot of money tonight and someone will lose. The fingers of people inhabiting this house seem blunt, with flat nails. Some even have scratches that run into dark colors. One can see his face in the same room and can cook meals in the same room. The mattress is adjacent to the boxes of copper threads to be processed to make zari. A second hand school book with names scribbled has its corners folded because of the carton of empty reels that has been mistakenly placed on it. The house has sections, but no rooms. There are no walls. The walls are outside the houses, the invisible and the inevitable.
She stills thinks about it. She has autonomy, she can spend her money but she has to work for it. She wonders if this is same for all the 'she' out there. The Zari business has seen huge recession now it is no longer the silver and gold zari but it is metallic zari and that yields very less. Everyone in the family has to work, it is a difficult world.She shares some gossip with her neighbor. They tell her, the story of 'she' is different everywhere. Not everyone has to work this much. But why? Because they didn't like daughters and now they have a poor sex ratio of girls over boys. Is that why they want to marry daughters of our community? Yes. Our daughters adapt easily and besides that, there's very little work one has to do. All one has to do, is to cook some nice meal and watch television. She had heard about it, but now it is more or less clear.
Part 2
He is sitting on that small wooden chair and folding the packets to be arranged neatly in his 100 year old shop in Begumpura. The shop is small and he doesn't want to change anything about it, not even its visual contours. He is worried about his son. He is now 25 and is unmarried. He has learnt some computer accounting and works in a 'company' and earns about twelve thousand every month. Who will give his daughter? He tried to bring him in this shop and expand the business but that has been an unsuccessful attempt. Whenever he comes, he would sneak out with his friends and spend money on food and tea, laughing and chatting at some crossroads. That's why he has asked him to better be in the 'company'.
His house is in Sonifaliya. A flat that hosts people from various communities. He likes chicken and mutton, so burns incense sticks and cooks so that nobody knows about it. The irony is that, a street next to Soni Faliya, there are Muslim who eat this on a daily basis. But he doesn't want to go to their localities and eat chicken/mutton. He wants to get his son married and no girl will come to his flat in Soni Faliya. He has to change his house to some other locality. He is trying to save money for that.
He gets to know from his son that there is a girl who is nice and would be fit for the family. She is from Golwad. She has been busy doing the Zari making work since her childhood. She is not much bothered if he lives in Soni Faliya because she would be fine anywhere. She belongs to Gola community and he belongs to Ghanchi community, they have similar culture of eating non-vegetarian food and consuming alcohol. The alliance would work very well. Besides that, a Ghanchi girl would want a car, a house in Adajan area, a well paying job or a business and she might throw tantrums.
People living in the neighborhood could afford moving to Adajan because most of their family members are in the Powerloom sector. Powerloom has always been a great area to work, the Marwadis have also created a lot of capital by entering the sector.The saraiya or the incense sticks business doesnt yield much and the 'company' doesn't pay well either.
Part 3
All day she has to work. She hopes that once she is married to a Ghanchi, she would not have to work this much. She could go to the weekend trips to Piplod with her husband. She could take a nap in the afternoon and escape the golden glitter on her face.
All that she would miss is, ordering tea in plastic cups from a local vendor at her own wish.
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