– Subhadra Joopaka
Our hostel building was the one and only pucca hostel building the government built for girls in Warangal. All the other social welfare hostels were rented. These were usually either old houses with low tiled roofs or flat roofed concrete houses. Like cattle driven into cattle sheds, children were crammed into the hostels, into tiny pigsty rooms with no ventilators and hardly any bathrooms to speak of. Every morning was a battle for water, for food and for the bathrooms. You had to be up at four thirty in the morning to use the toilet, have a bath and get ready. If you woke up a few minutes too late you’d be lucky to find a mug of water to take to the toilet. Where there is a public hand pump somewhere close to the hostel, two girls bring a bucket of water back together and that’s all they have for bathing and everything else. If there is no hand pump, then you used the waste water from the kitchen, left over from washing the rice and vegetables. No wonder most social welfare kids have scabies and skin sores! Walk past a social welfare hostel anytime anyday and you can catch a fight between pigs and dogs – perhaps they are fighting for their rightful share! This is the social welfare scene.
The two-storied Balasamudram hostel Compared to the other rented hostels, has all the facilities a hostel needs. The ground floor houses school girls from class 2 to 10 and the first floor houses college girls. There is plenty of water – a 24 hour supply! It has a large barren compound fenced in by a wall. Intermediate, degree, vocational students and teacher-trainees, some 30 odd girls, all live together in six rooms on the first floor. But all the toilets are on the ground floor, to be shared between the school and college girls.
I was lucky to get a seat here. I was so thrilled. I dreamed all day about building temples of knowledge and spending all my time studying. I wouldn’t have to waste my energies worrying about food and water and toilets and bathing. Before I left for the hostel to join intermediate, my father sat me down and said, “ Bidda , I married everyone in our family off at the age of seven. I’m educating you because you are the youngest. You go bring me a good name – I don’t want to hear someone say that fellow’s daughter is ‘that kind’ of girl. Take care!”
So, college, hostel, my books and a couple of close friends is all that my life revolved around for those couple of years.
One day, when I came back to the hostel from college, all the girls – the young ones and the older ones – were hanging around outside whispering to each other, looking for all the world like someone had just died. I walked up to a group of girls and asked, “What’s up Yakamma , why is everyone outside? Has something happened to someone?” But before she could reply I overheard the hostel workers talking to each other. “Did you see that Mallu? I tell you its so sinful… the bathroom is full of blood… who has done this? A college girl or school girl? … I can’t figure it out! Obviously, some kid got pregnant and took something to miscarry… I tell you Lachakka never trust these educated whores!
Someone replied, “Listen Ramakka if you miscarry won’t you be exhausted with all the blood loss? But these kids are all running around like headless chicken aren’t they?”. “Yeah, I guess… no one really looks pale or sickly.”
I heard another voice: “whatever… whoever she is she must be pretending like she is ok so that no one figures it out”. Mallakka the sweeper came towards us beating her chest, crying out loudly “whose fate is so cursed? Is this a sin or an injustice… either way, someone’s life is ruined”.
Their talk scared us to death. Everyone was so agitated we couldn’t even talk to each other. Even the college girls were stunned. We stood there with heavy feet, clinging to each other, not knowing what to do about this mess.
Meanwhile, the Gurkha (watchman) brought the hostel warden. Even though nominally there were two wardens for the two hostels – upstairs and downstairs – only the college hostel warden wielded any real authority. She controlled all the kids in all sorts of ways. She would make us sign declarations that we were fed meat once a week, and dal and vegetables everyday, which of course we weren’t! We even had to cook up a perfect attendance record for her. And when the inspections happened we had to stick to the story. To protect herself from the possibility of girls complaining about her she cleverly kept a record of everyone’s comings and goings, who had the most male visitors, whose attendance in college was poor, who watches the most movies – all this data she used to make sure we towed the line and kept our mouths shut. That’s the kind of woman she was.
So with this new problem on our heads we were all worried – what would this woman do to us now? Who would she tear to pieces? Which one of us would be kicked out of the hostel? We were terrified.
The warden arrived and the hostel workers rushed towards her, “ Namaste amma… namaste namaste… ”. “Its all very well to say namaste but what the hell are all of you doing here… letting all this drama happen in the hostel” she replied, peering into the bathrooms as she climbed up the stairs. When she passed us we scattered into small frightened groups and followed her slowly to her room. The warden plonked herself into a chair, and with sprightly sadistic pleasure she called out “ Mallamma gather all the school girls who have matured… and make sure all the college girls come upstairs as well.” All the college girls stood around looking guilty for no reason. We were scared and anxious and you could see the apprehension on our faces.
The warden looked us up and down, head to toe, piercing into us, sieving through our minds. “ Rajamma has anyone been looking ill for the past few days?” she asked. “Well… I don’t really know amma… ” “What do you mean you don’t really know” said the warden “don’t you notice anything when you feed them?” Rajamma replied, “Everything is such a mess at meal time madam… we can hardly pay attention to their plates its impossible to pay attention to their faces also… There’s always such a rush…”
“Did anyone go home today?” the warden asked. Rajamma the assistant cook slowly recollected that Shantamma and Shoshamma had gone to their villages. “But Rajakka aren’t they class 3 students… a bit young no?” the warden dripped sarcasm. The other workers laughed half heartedly. “This is no joking matter” she shouted “the hostel’s prestige is at stake… the hostel will be ruined and as warden I will have to bear the blame”, as if her honesty and morality were the foundations of the hostel!
She turned to look at us. Girls who come back late to the hostel, those who have a lot of male visitors, those who take pains to dress nicely, those who go out to the movies – they were all suspect in her eyes. She singled them out, gathered them around her, and examined them with a magnifying glass. Thankfully, I was not in her list of usual suspects and I was saved from the interrogation in this round at least. The warden called the others into her room, roared at them, threatened them, and basically conducted a third degree without the help of the police. She said the most insulting things about our castes, poverty, habits, basic needs, even our minds and souls. She ranted and raved for a long time but she still couldn’t get at the truth.
“You better confess you know… we will get to the bottom of this and then things can get uncomfortable for you” she threatened. “This will become a big issue in the district, in the state… the press will come, the police will come. What do you think of yourselves… aborting a pregnancy is a simple thing? Other girls will follow your example and then what…” Her words were difficult to digest. We were all quiet, standing there with eyes downcast.
“Whats up Marthamma apparently this past month you’ve hardly been in the hostel?” the warden asked. “No, madam, I’ve been here in the hostel only” mumbled Marthamma. Then the warden turned to Shakuntala and asked sarcastically “How about you, have your visitors increased or decreased?” Shakuntala just bent her head silently. “ Lakshmamma this is not the way to set them right… tell the Gurkha to bring the office jeep”.
We were just about picking up the courage to look up at her with our pale helpless faces when she started again. “The government gives you so many facilities and this is the nonsense you get upto? You can offer a dog ghee and rice but it will still run back to the tannery… what can anyone do! The only way we can find out the truth is to get you all tested in the hospital” she said as she called out for the jeep again. This threat was like pouring boiling oil into our stomachs.
The warden told the workers to get ready before the jeep came, went into her room and shut the door. We quietly filed into our rooms.
I asked a degree student, “ Akka what was Madam saying? I didn’t understand…” “What’s there not to understand! The tests will bring out the real character of everyone… that’s how the bathroom mystery will be solved” she replied, imitating the warden. Another girl added, “Why should we be afraid, we haven’t done anything… we can go wherever they take us. Come…”
10th class Karuna asked BSc student Durgakka, “How do they do this test akka? ” “What do you mean how? They’ll look at our stomachs, strip off our clothes and stick a tester between our legs. That’s how” said Durgakka. A lot of girls went cold on hearing this. Our stomachs turned. Everyone went quiet.
Neither the school girls nor the college girls had the courage to refuse the test. We knew that if we refused, or protested, this dirty accusation would become our burden to bear. So, we swallowed our anxieties, discomfort, and the thought that we didn’t want to get the test done.
The warden’s methods were not new to us; after all we had suffered all kinds of humiliation at her hands. If we ever complained that we weren’t getting enough vegetables or that the curries were inedible, she would retort, “Look at your face, do you look like you need vegetables… eating raw chilli and rice all your life and now you demand vegetables! Getting used to feasting on government money huh!’
When we asked for our pocket money she would taunt, “Who wants your beggar’s alms… I’ll give it when I have the time.” If anyone ever dared to stand up to her she would find some way of getting them kicked out of the hostel.
Whatever she said and whatever she did we could not defy her – we were helpless because of our insecurity. That day, the thought that she was going to subject our bodies to invasive tests wounded us more than anything else ever had. But we were incapable of protesting. Better to die than live with this kind of accusation on your head. So, everyone silently got ready to go get tested.
I was also getting ready to go, but somewhere in my mind a small strength, a firm self confidence, refused to give in. The easy way out was to go along with everyone else and get tested. After all there is comfort in numbers. The problem is in resisting. Would I be able to deal with the difficulties of defiance? What would my future be if I got kicked out? What would happen to my parents’ dreams for me? Would I become the wound on the ox’s back for a hundred crows to peck at?
Being a woman herself how could the warden subject us girls to this ‘abortion test’? How could I swallow my shame and strip to get tested. After all, all things considered, I am only an intermediate student. Who would care what I did… would anyone stand by me? My mind was in turmoil but a silent courage shone in my stomach ‘I won’t go to the hospital… come what may.’ I recollected stories of bravery, made my mind up, took a deep breath and walked into the degree students’ rooms determined to convince the other girls not to go to the hospital either.
Sunandakka saw me and said “ Oi! you aren’t ready to go? Hurry up…” “I don’t feel like going” I replied. “Why?” “I’d rather die than get this test done akka … not just me everyone feels the same way akka . You are older, you are the seniors no… please akka please go talk to madam and tell her not to get these hospital tests done” I pleaded. She looked at me as though I had said something unthinkable. “What are you saying… what’s the point of arguing with the pestle once you’ve stuck your head in the mortar… don’t try to act too smart. If we refuse the test we’ll get into more trouble. We haven’t done anything wrong so why worry about getting tested.” Irritated, she continued “Why all that headache… shut up and get ready. Hurry up now.” I lost my temper “I don’t care, you guys go… I’m not coming.”
“Have you lost it? What the hell is wrong with you, if you don’t come they’ll kick you out of the hostel… use your head” Sunandakka said. “No, I’m not coming akka ” I said firmly. I turned away and walked back to my room. Everyone – my roommates and others – asked me with anxious surprise ‘So, are you not getting ready?’
The jeep arrived and fifteen girls at a time were packed in and sent to the nearest nursing home. The warden instructed the workers that all the rooms should be scanned for matured school girls and college girls so no one could escape the test. Lakshmamma found me sitting in my room and asked suspiciously “What’s the matter girl, everyone is going for the test… why are you sitting here?”
“I’m not going” I said in a determined voice. “ Ayyo ” she said, “but madam won’t agree.” “I’ll tell madam myself, you go” I nearly shouted. My determination grew. Not being in the warden’s list of usual suspects strengthened my resolve. I suppose my confidence lay in the fact that she had no hold over me, I had never gotten into her bad books. In minutes everyone in the hostel got to know that I had refused to get tested. The warden and some hostel workers came to my room. I was a little afraid but I stood my ground. “Oh, so it’s your highness… behind that innocent face is quite a troublemaker I see” she said.
“Madam, I’m not going to get tested. Everyone in this hostel knows what kind of a person I am. You do what you want, but I am not going to the hospital” I said with all the bravery I could muster. No one had ever stood up to the warden before, and I had hurt her ego by defying her in front of the workers. Like a dog whose ear was cut she squealed loudly “I’ll take care of you tomorrow… let’s see how you continue in this hostel”. She took the workers and went to the hospital.
But, the tests didn’t settle the bathroom mystery. That whole issue became foggy and now everyone was only discussing me. I was the bubblegum for everyone to chew. The warden was totally occupied with how to teach me a lesson. The workers also went back home wondering what madam would do the next day. My stomach was feeling more and more queasy. If the warden put her threats into action what would happen to my studies, what would I tell my mother and father? All the girls were worried about what madam would do to me – no one slept that night. What fires would the warden kindle to have me thrown out of the hostel? The thought worried all of us. A lot of girls cried in the hospital while they were being tested. Others came back and went straight to bed weeping.
Worried about what dawn would bring to the future of my education, I didn’t get a wink of sleep. As I began to fall asleep, in the early hours of the morning, I was woken up by a commotion downstairs. It was the hostel workers. “Damn this dog… kick it out… it better not come back this way again…” they were shouting. “Maybe it’s this one that mucked up the bathroom yesterday… and today again, right here near the bore well… avvavva … disgusting dog!” Another voice said, “if we had only known that the dog was the culprit. How much those girls suffered, so much humiliation and all that public interrogation, all for what!”.
Shubadra Joopaka is a long time associate of Anveshi. She works in Telangana Government.
(A later version of this story was published in K Satyanarayana and Susie Tharu, eds. Steel Nibs are Sprouting: New Dalit Writing from South India, Noida: Harper Collins, 2013).
Translated from Telugu by Diia Raja