‘Pichippoo Ladies’
who walked ahead of me!
She loved to see the morning rays
reflecting on the dew drops. Day dreamer- she liked every sight on the
way. Sometimes she assisted the news paper boy to distribute the newspapers and
was late for her class. When it rained, she loved the rain drops and played in
the rain. The cool breeze of the dawn was her companion and she
never missed to say hello to the tea shop guy who was always busy making tea as
she passed by his small shop. But she was more fascinated by
something else!
What else could be a more
beautiful picture than a group of ‘Pichippoo ladies’ on their way to cardamom
plantations amidst the morning rays peeping through the mist? Attired in
‘saree’ they always adorned their neatly tied hair with Rose and Jasmine
flowers. As they pass the junction and curves their number slowly increased. A
few waited for them in front of the tea shop where the elder folks of the
village had tea and made conference on the top news of the day.
Though they worked at cardamom
plantations their lives were never as fragrant as cardamom, nor were they the
‘queens’. They earned between Rs.60-70 per day and there too discrimination
surfaced to the fore- men were paid higher for the same work... Carefully
knitting the torn and worn out sarees, the Pichippoo ladies saved their money
to feed the mouths of the near and dear ones in her family.
The most innocent as well as
interesting fact about them was that there were no secrets. When they had
something confidential to share, they murmured to each other which eventually turned
out to a big commotion. In fact their secrets were never secrets and nothing
was personal too. Sometimes they moaned about their lazy, drunkard husbands and
non obedient kids, sometimes about their responsibilities and shortage of
money. They even made public where they ‘hide’ the keys. They needed money not
to lock it off in vaults but to fulfill their basic necessities. They had very little
gold but nobody took advantage of this.
She used to meet them on her way
to school. It was a sheer coincidence that their work timings and her school
timing were exactly the same. Every morning she followed them. She was keen to
listen to their conversations and most of the time they spoke in an alien
language which was beyond the comprehension of a school kid. Their
conversations were not about the root nodules, least common multiples, or how
water formed out of hydrogen and oxygen and hence she understood very little.
Nevertheless she followed the ‘Pichippoo’ fragrance. In the evenings when they
returned from the plantations; with a bundle of firewood and groceries in their
lunch bag, their face would be as dry as the flower on their hair.
Even after so many years I still
remember the girl who silently waited for them on the lonely school ground and
it always brings a melancholic smile on my face just because the girl who
waited for them was me. It has been more than 13 years and things have changed.
The misty climate no more exists and so are the ‘pichippoo’ ladies. No school
kid walks to school today; instead they wait for their school bus. Plantations
are mechanized as they find it difficult to get the labour force and the
existing labourers are often given vehicle facilities also. Though I could
understand the development and growth, I felt sorry. I missed something
nostalgic for ever…
The Pichippoo Ladies’ represented
an era, when women in high ranges had to struggle to make a living. They
worked hard to make both ends meet and life made them stronger. They symbolize
a culture and the movement wherein the selfless women in the high ranges flung
opened their doors and went out to the plantations in search of job. Limited were their dreams. All that they wished was a piece of land, a
shelter, better food and education to their children- their dreams always
confined to the four walls of their home.
It was a really tough to live in
such a world with an ‘economically poor’ label. The climate is hard and harsh
and so is the geography. The day starts at 4o’ clock in the morning and it most
always ends by mid night. One needed to walk miles as there were no proper
roads and transportation facilities. There wasn’t time to rest and relax and
days were busy with work. Nutritious food was out of question for them and days
were spent starving. No electricity, tele-communications and transportation
facilities, and during monsoon and winter, when life becomes impossible, and
cold wind becomes the most spiteful enemy as it freezes the bones- but still
there were no complaints.
Many a time I imagined my self in
their place. How hard it is when you are made to sit down on bare floors
continuing to work without even a small break for more than 8 hrs a day! They always complained about the persisting
back pain and ill health. As I followed them silently listening to their
worries and turmoil, I really wished –‘may all their dreams come true’ and
dreamt of their kids growing up, learning well and getting better jobs. I
fancied about their happy and prosperous old days.
I am greatly indebted to them for
teaching me- how important it is to study well and find a job. The deep rooted
sense of independence came from their sufferings; perseverance and hard work
were their ‘success mantra’ and they made me think about the society, the
people and their welfare. They inspired me to go out and find my horizon. I
respect their courage and sense of duty. And the successful generation
which followed is the result of their sweat and toil.
Though the Pichippo ladies were a
sight of the past, I salute them for they walked ahead in their life, leaving
the imprints behind, and I just followed their footsteps…
Aneena
