This Is Not That Dawn: Jhootha Sach (156 page)

Nath apologized for his absence from home, ‘I was stuck in an awkward situation.’

The Prime Minister had performed the inauguration ceremony of the Indian Anthropological Society that afternoon. Dr Solis was a member of the organizing committee, and had invited Nath to the function.

Nath was peeved, ‘Now hear this. When the president of the Welcome Committee invited the Prime Minister to inaugurate the council, he referred to him as “our scientist Prime Minister”. The Prime Minister spoke for over an hour on the problems of population growth and food shortage. As is his habit, he said everything three times. It was difficult to swallow what he said. Why did he speak on a subject if he did not know anything about it?

‘When Dr Solis was asked to speak, he could not help but say, “It would be a bit rash to formulate government policy on the basis of the views expressed by the Prime Minister on population growth and food production. His ideas lend a fresh perspective to the subject, but are not based on scientific theories.”

‘The Prime Minister said heatedly, “You all have become such specialists in your area that you only think mechanically. You should be broad-minded about scientific ideas and have a pragmatic approach to the problems.”’

Chaddha was listening attentively, temple resting on his hand. He blinked once, and asked, ‘What was it that the Prime Minister wanted to say? He shouldn’t have agreed to inaugurate a symposium on a scientific topic.’

‘It’s others who ask him to do so,’ Tara said.

Gill joined in, ‘People invite him to such events because they know that the Prime Minister feels flattered.’ Turning towards Nath, he said, ‘Doctor sahib, does the Prime Minister really think himself to be a scientist? Didn’t he object to his being called a “scientist”?’

Tara spoke up before Nath could, ‘An honorary doctor of science degree was conferred on the Prime Minister by the University of Delhi. How is he to blame?’

‘Does the Prime Minster not know that he is not a scientist but a politician?’ Kanak said. ‘To accept such a degree is to encourage sycophantic behaviour.’

‘You blind the Prime Minister with flattery and he would believe anything you tell him,’ Gill said. ‘When I was living in Lucknow, if the sweeper did not show up in the morning or if the gali’s open drains and gutters were not cleaned, we’d know that the Prime Minister was visiting. All the cleaning personnel would be put to cleaning the roads in welcome of the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister should see the roads clean at the expense of ordinary people enduring the stench of blocked drains. The mantra of the bureaucracy is: Keep your superior happy.’

Kanak said, ‘The government officials are only concerned with filing their reports and keeping the files complete. If the public sector worked along these lines, then?’

Chaddha expressed his concern, ‘Without union representation in organizational decision making …’

‘One second,’ Nath gestured to indicate that he wanted to say something. He had not been able to get a word in edgeways. He called Bhoop Singh over and told him to bring tea, and said, ‘I’d have been delayed even more had I stayed there for tea.’

‘I’ll see to tea,’ Tara said, and went inside with Bhoop Singh.

While Tara boiled water in the electric kettle and helped Bhoop Singh to make tea, she could hear Narottam speaking in an agitated voice in the living room. She knew that he was talking about the Seetalpur factory. Narottam was in Delhi on leave, and had already told Tara about an incident that was troubling him. He often quarrelled with Chaddha on the subject of the high-handedness of labour unions, and wanted to discuss the subject with Nath. Narottam had the belief that allowing union representatives to to be a part of the factory management would be very detrimental to the national interest.

When Tara came back with Bhoop Singh carrying tea, Narottam was saying, ‘I wrote a note to the superintendent that for making a groove in a sprocket, it wasn’t necessary to score it twice. The superintendent already knew that. If the two-score method was dropped, the daily wage would have been cut by one hour. The union gave notice to strike. The superintendent lost his nerve. He was afraid that he’d be criticized for the way he handled the crisis. He asked me to write in my report that the lathes at our factory were older than the lathes at the Babora factory and did not work as precisely. Therefore, the second score was needed. I didn’t agree to that. The superintendent put off the order to cut the daily wage, and
wrote to the director general a confidential note about the looming strike. The director general “suggested” over the phone that a strike should be avoided at all costs. Why wasn’t it made clear to him that workers oppose every measure to reduce the wages in order to cut the cost. The workers would never settle for eight workers doing the work of ten.’

‘No one wants to be unemployed,’ Gill cut in. ‘The workers should have a guarantee that they’d be given some other job.’

‘They have the guarantee, but they don’t want to be transferred to any other factory. They always put their convenience first. They goof up at work half the time. The supervisor is afraid to object. If he does, he gets a thrashing. Any disciplinary action against a worker means strike! The management knows that government won’t stand behind them in case of workers going on strike. A strike bursts the bubble of popularity of the government, so the management has to cover up the affair and report that everything is well under control. They are only interested in drawing their salaries, and their only concern is keeping their superiors happy. To me it feels like cheating the factory and I’ve failed the people and the country. I don’t want any more of this.’

‘That indeed amounts to defrauding the country. Why don’t you inform the newspapers about it?’ Kanak asked.

‘Don’t even think of doing like that,’ Narottam warned. ‘It’s an official secret. But it shows that be it the the workers or the bureaucracy or the minister—nobody cares about the country. The workers want to do the least possible amount of work but receive as much wage as possible. The bureaucrats report to the ministry that all’s well so that they can retain their jobs. The ministers have to contest the next election and therefore can’t afford to antagonize the public.’

Chaddha gave a detailed explanation that the workers have a negative attitude because they feel oppressed by a ruthless management. Only employee representation on management boards and their participation in decision making can result in workers having a responsible attitude.

Narottam was not willing to put his trust in workers and kept on repeating, ‘That is never going to work.’

‘What is it that you want? Should labour unions be abolished?’ Nath interrupted him.

‘That can’t be done in a democracy. The only course is dictatorship,’ Narottam said in a firm voice.

‘You want the Prime Minister to be a dictator?’

‘At the moment he’s the only trustworthy person. He’s the only one who can save the country from regressing.’

‘And what if he’s surrounded by those who suck up to him and blind him with flattery?’

‘Isn’t he already?’

Tara had looked at her watch several times. The discussion bored her. She had heard all this not once but hundreds of times before. Endless discussion, no solution. She waited for the chance, then said, ‘Doctor sahib, may we take your leave?’

Tara had been unable to comprehend why she had to suffer so helplessly, so she had explained it to herself as a sardonic twist of fate. The sense of achievement and deep contentment she had felt during the past seven years had given her a new self-confidence. She had become sure of herself and her ability to handle different situations, but then something happened that left her feeling powerless before circumstances. Purandei had become ill after she got drenched in rain and had caught a cold last August on her way back from the Hanuman temple on the Queens’s Road. Her condition had deteriorated steadily.

Problem and worry does not come alone but in multiples. The same happened with Tara.

On a Sunday afternoon in May, Khem Singh, the domestic servant of Tara’s neighbour Talwar came to see her with Parsu, and sat down on the floor before Tara, his palms joined respectfully. He said, ‘Sarkar, I have a request.’

Khem Singh made a request on behalf of domestic servants of the neighbourhood, ‘Huzoor, you’re the only big government official here. Huzoor, only you can do us justice. We can only appeal to you. Who else will listen to us? Huzoor, the servants in the houses of government officials in New Delhi get four hours time off every day. They also get one evening free every week. In the embassies servants are off duty on Sundays. The employees in the restaurant below have afternoons free. Sarkar, we are human beings, we can have chores of our own. Huzoor, we should be given some rest time.’

Tara realized the serious implications of Khem Singh’s request and his apparently polite demand for his rights. ‘Today he was asking politely;
after a few days he and others will threaten to go on strike.’ In Delhi the behaviour of domestic servants towards their employers was changing. The white-collar middle class felt uneasy about the servants’ attitude and demands for higher wages. Tara was paying a greenhorn like Parsu Rs 18 every month, meals and clothing. Parsu might have been a little dense, but he well understood that he had been a domestic servant longer than Khem Singh. Therefore, if Khem Singh got twenty rupees per month, so should he. Parsu also knew that there was no dearth of job opportunities in Delhi, and that he’d probably get more money in a new job. Sure, he was quite happy working for Tara bibiji. He felt obliged to her for spending money on his treatment when he had fallen sick, but how long could he go on suffering a loss of two rupees every month?

Although Tara had never hired a servant for herself before 1952, she was aware of the change in servants’ attitudes. She knew that Mercy had hired Chimmo at twelve rupees per month and free meals. The servants in the houses of Dr Prabhu Dayal, Ghaista Ram and Dewanchand, her neighbours in Lahore, had been paid monthly salaries of eight or ten, at the most twelve rupees. Those servants used to work, without a squeak of complaint, from before their masters woke up in the morning until after their masters had gone to bed. The question of domestic servants receiving luxuries such as time off and a day’s weekly leave never arose.

Tara also knew the reason for the change in their attitude. Nath had twice hired servants at Rs 25 and 30 per month, but both proved to be unsatisfactory. Bhoop Singh would get irritated with them and grumble, ‘These low-born have been spoiled rotten. They used to come to the plains from their homes in the hills to look for work, or starve. These days they have no shortage of work in the hills. Government offices are opening everywhere. If not offices, some road is being built here or there. They can easily earn Rs 1.25 or 1.50 daily. Now those who come here are just good-for-nothings who want to get paid without working for it. On top of that they steal from their employers. Bite the hand that feeds them. Shameless bums.’

Tara thought, ‘Khem Singh came to plead with me probably because I had got him the job through Durga Pande. Still, he has no business speaking to me on behalf of Parsu or asking me to tell my neighbours how they should treat their servants!’ Tara knew very well how her neighbours would feel about this matter.

Tara said to Khem Singh, ‘If Parsu wants to say anything, he can do it himself. Why are you pleading his case? If you have any complaints, tell Talwar Sahib about it.’

Inspite of Tara’s curtness, Khem Singh said politely, ‘Huzoor, Parsu is a bit simple. He asked me to talk to you bibiji.’

‘No, you don’t worry about Parsu. And don’t bother to speak for him. If you have any problem, speak with Talwar Sahib or tayeeji. I’ve nothing to do with all this. And what’s troubling Parsu? I leave for office at ten o’clock. He is free between twelve and five o’clock. He either sleeps all day or goofs around. You think I don’t know?’

Khem Singh did not go away. He said with an ingratiating smile, ‘Sarkar, how can anyone have difficulty at your place. Huzoor, you treat your servants like your children, but, sarkar, we are on duty all day. Huzoor, sometimes a person needs time for chores of his own.’

‘If Parsu needs time off he can tell me. You may go.’ Tara ended the conversation.

A couple of days later Parsu said hesitantly to Tara, his eyes downcast and fingers entwined as he scratched the heel of one foot with the toe of the other, ‘Bibiji, all servants get a break until five in the afternoon. Buaji does not give me any time off.’

Tara did not want this conversation to drag on, so she said shortly, ‘Don’t talk rubbish. What do you do in the afternoons?’

‘Bibiji, I had gone out for a while and buaji shouted at me.’

Tara said angrily, ‘You’ve come to me to tell on buaji! Don’t you know she doesn’t keep well? Sometimes she even shouts at me. She’s like our mother, treats you like her son. Didn’t your mother ever shout at you? Don’t be stupid.’

Tara said to Purandei, ‘Give this
moya
some free time in the afternoon. We have to move with the times. He’s at least trustworthy, hasn’t stolen anything from us so far. If he quits it’ll be a hassle for you.’

Purandei denied Parsu’s allegations in a loud voice, ‘He sleeps like a crocodile all afternoon. I send him to the bazaar to buy two annas worth of stuff and he returns in two hours. Disappears whenever he wants without telling me. I won’t bother with him any more. He can goof around all he wants.’

Tara said sternly to Parsu, ‘Behave yourself if you want to work here. Don’t hassle buaji. Don’t go out without telling her. If you have some
work of your own, you may go out between one and five o’clock, but come back on time.’

Not even a week had gone by when tayee and Gurandei came to complain to Tara, ‘What harm have we done to you that you’ve caused this trouble for us. Everybody’s servant says that you’ve ordered that all servants will get hours off every day.’

Tara protested, ‘That is not correct. I didn’t give any such assurance. I have nothing to do with other people’s servants, nor do I want to.’ But her explanation had no effect.