Madhavi

Recently, one of my acquaintances expressed gratitude to her eight year old son for teaching her how to love truly. I was immensely impressed by her gesture because I have not seen many mothers acknowledge that fact. It is true that people younger than us sometimes teach us a lot about life. It is also true that some younger people are just spoilt brats who do not deserve any attention but this post is not about that vain category. 

Speaking of younger people, I am reminded of my stay in Hyderabad as a fresher out of college, comfortably earning and relatively independent, no-care-in-the-world kind of life. I used to share a house with a friend. My cousin sister lived close by and she advised us to hire a maid to do all the cleaning and washing. Since we liked the idea, she talked to a girl herself and it was agreed that she would come everyday before we left for work. The girl's name was Madhavi.

What struck me the most about Madhavi was her punctuality. Rain, sun, cold, illness would not matter. Our doorbell would always ring at 7 in the morning. While my friend and I used to struggle to get up early, cook some meagre breakfast and barely be able to catch an 'air conditioned' company bus to work, Madhavi would get up as early as 4, fetch water for her home, help her mother cook food, work in a neighbouring house and come to our place at 7. After leaving our house, she would go to a couple of other places before lunch. One would think she would probably "lie down and read a book" in the afternoon to rest but no, Madhavi went for stitching classes. Her idea was to learn to stitch blouses for women to supplement her family income. At this juncture, it becomes imperative to mention her age. She was barely 17 years old.

Madhavi's father, as she told us, was a daily wages laborer. Madhavi and her mother worked as domestic helpers. Her elder sister was married to a good-for-nothing moron who always demanded money from Madhavi's parents and gave them unwanted grand children to take care of, in return. Her younger sister was an illusive girl who refused to study or work and preferred to laze around and day dream or fight.  If Madhavi did not work, the family would not be able to make its ends meet.

In spite of her circumstances, Madhavi stood as the epitome of integrity, punctuality, honesty and sacrifice. She understood people, situations, where to draw a line, where to keep quiet, everything. Her forbearance never ceased to amaze me. Many a time, she put me to shame because I was much older than her and still fretted over minor discomforts.

When it was time for me to leave Hyderabad and Madhavi, I told her that I would always pray that she does not end up with another useless drunkard who would do nothing but kill her from within. Even to that, she replied philosophically - "It is difficult to get a good man in my community. I am prepared for anything. But I will have only one child, even if I get beaten and killed. I will bring my child up well". 

I have no idea where she is now. I do not know if I should have kept track but it did not happen in the natural sequence of events. However, Madhavi would always be one youngster whom I would admire and thank for the rest of my life. She silently taught me many things and I am still learning them.