Are you — Nobody, — too?
Then there's a pair of us. "
Emily Dickinson.
My day begins early. I'm up by 5 and ready to face the world by 6. On a school day, I wake up A, and then begins the routine of getting ready for school, cooking lunchboxes for her and the husband, getting breakfast ready. A has to be out of the house at 7.45 to catch the bus, so we try to sit down for breakfast by 7.30. Most days it is a race against time. Then, the storm suddenly ends, as both father and daughter head out, breakfast done, bags in hand. The husband sees A off in her bus, and goes on to his office.
Just as they head out, I go to the kitchen and put on water to boil for tea. Tea for two. The second cup is for Amma, without whom I never have the morning cuppa.
Now tea is something only I drink in the house. Amma was a coffee drinker before she started working at my house. Over the years, she has switched loyalties to tea. So much so that if she does not come to work for a day or more, she sorely misses it. So, as soon as my morning rushing around is done, I make that tea, pour a cup for each of us, and sit down for a peaceful few minutes. Amma sits by me with her cup and we have a few social moments.
After tea Amma begins her work and I sit down to browse online/read the paper/read a book I want to/just chill. Rarely do I have to oversee any of her work. After so many years, she knows the routine and goes about it impeccably even when I am not around. She knows where I keep everything, and when I need her to do, for eg. washing the balconies or removing the curtains for washing. On days when I am low or distracted for some reason, she senses it and works around me, comforting me with her very presence. She reminds me if I have something to be done that I have spoken to her of, in case I forget it. She literally frees me to do my own thing. I look forward to her coming in the morning, and I am somehow lost on days when she is not in for work. It is not just about the work. She is like a friend who just comforts you by being there.
Married at an early age, she was a mother at 18 and thrown out of her husband's house with her infant daughter. She went to stay with her mother and brother, who fully support her decision not to go back to her husband's house where she was abused, beaten and kept without sufficient food. She has since worked as a housemaid, and last week, her daughter started school. She wants to educate her enough so that she can stand on her own two feet. Her dream is of seeing her daughter 'work in an office or teach in a school.' She does not want her to be getting into the grind of early marriage, household drudgery and the ignominy of financial dependence. No, Ma'am.
Let me make it clear here that I have never had a full-time or live-in maid. Amma comes only for a few hours in the morning. She has been working at my house for the past four years. We have the tea in the morning and then breakfast together later. She toils so that I am free to pursue my interests. She is not just my maid, she is a member of the family in my mind, and is treated as one.
"Behind every successful man," it is said, "is a woman."
"Behind every woman...her maid"? Maybe so.
Published by New Hampshire publications.
Image: Courtesy Amazon.
An excerpt from the article:
The “invisible” kitchen was headquarters for people mostly lost from the public record—and it was her interactions with them that changed and helped define who Emily Dickinson was as a person and a poet.
Another article about this book says:
"...Murray looks behind the "volume" of Dickinson's work to the lives of the women and men who made that amplification possible and who extended the poet's literary range and human sympathies. Aífe Murray's scholarly research reveals a meaningful relationship between the presence of servants and the volume and nature of Dickinson's literary work."
I would certainly credit Amma for the comfort I enjoy in terms of getting the daily chores off my back. And she goes about it with such affection and commitment. I can depend on her to take days off only if it is really necessary. The affection is amply returned, and in no small measure. I acknowledge my debt to her.
I love the poetry of Dickinson. She says it all for women, who, whatever anyone else may say, think differently from the other half of humanity. Here are some inspiring lines. I read them sometimes when the going gets tough.
"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—
I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me
It would be treat for me to read this book. I shall be keeping an eye open for it.
