Urvashi Sarkar

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“Do you think, there will be a place to sit inside the
train today?” yells Breshpati Sardar, standing on a crowded platform at
Jadavpur railway station in south Kolkata. The women waiting next to her shake
their heads in disappointment and laugh at the question.

Breshpati is waiting for the 4:35 p.m. train to
Canning. The train rushes
into Jadavpur station. The women brace themselves in the crowd, pushing to
enter one of the two already-full ladies compartments.

The train has come from Sealdah station in north Kolkata, stopping at Park Circus, Ballygunge Junction and
Dhakuria. After Jadavpur,
it will halt at Bagha Jatin,
New Garia and Garia – all predominantly middle class and affluent areas
of South Kolkata. The women waiting at Jadavpur – as well as at the
other stations along the route – work as domestic helpers in these south Kolkata
localities. 

Many of them take the 45-kilometres Sealdah-Canning route, which covers
16 stations, and the 65-kilometres Sealdah-Lakshmikantapur train that halts at 25 stations, or
the Sealdah-Namkhana
line, which goes even further south.  So some
in Kolkata call these Eastern Railways trains the  ‘jhi special’.  Jhi is a disparaging term in Bengali for
female domestic workers.

That afternoon,
on her way back home from work, wearing an orange saree, a red bindi
and clutching a white handbag, Breshpati pushes her way into the compartment.
Inside, amid the crush of bodies, bags and bangles, she finds a narrow space, just
enough to stand. And repeatedly looks at the nearest window seat. When the person
sitting there gets up to leave, Breshpati dives in to capture the coveted seat.
Another woman, who has been pushed aside, screams at her.

A fight erupts.
Breshpati’s voice rises and she turns red with anger. Other women quickly
intervene. She calms down and settles down on another woman’s lap.  The smile returns to her face and she
excitedly shows a video of a snake consuming a rabbit to the women near her. “I
usually never get into fights. But didn’t you see how the woman was behaving?” she
says, angrily. 

Some 75 minutes later, the train pulls into Canning,
around 45 kilometres from Jadavpur, where Breshpati boarded the train. Canning
is on the outer edges of the Sundarbans region in South 24 Parganas district. A lack of work options
near their homes forces the women to commute to the city every day.

Breshpati’s house is a 30-minute walk from the station,
near the market. On the way, she tells me, “Earlier I lived with my parents and
went to school. But after Class 5, it became difficult for them to make ends
meet.” Breshpati has three sisters and a brother. She started working in
people’s houses when she was 11, and has continued ever since. She was married
at the age of 14, and is now 28.

Breshpati’s daughters, Tanya, 11 and Sanya, 10, are
waiting for her when we reach their two-room tin house around 6 p.m. She also
has a six-year-old son, Biswajit. The children live with her parents and
in-laws. The work schedules of Breshpati and her husband, Sanjib Sardar, leave
them with little spare time. Sanijb works in a farsan-making unit and earns Rs.
9,000 a month.

That evening, their daughters are visiting. Breshpati
instructs them to buy oil and vegetables, lights up the gobar gas furnace for cooking
and fetches water from a nearby tubewell. Sanjib too will be home soon. After
feeding the family and herself, and cleaning the utensils, Breshpati will sleep
for a few hours and wake up at 3 a.m. to be able to reach Canning station in
time for the 4:30 a.m. train to Jadavpur. <a></a> “It is dark and sometimes cold. But I do not
feel scared because many of us from my neighbourhood work at people’s homes in
Kolkata and travel together. We call out to each other as we pass each other’s
houses,” she says.

Breshpati’s day then covers work in six households. “My
tasks include cooking, washing clothes and utensils, and cleaning. I get Rs.
8,500 a month in all. I usually get tea and food at my employers’ houses and
3-4 holidays a month. But not all employers are good. Once, an employer cut 20
days salary because I did not come to work for a few days. I stopped going
there.”

Though Breshpati claims to be largely treated
well by her employers, domestic workers usually labour in difficult conditions.
A lack of decent wages, an absence of
defined hours and benefit, abuse and sexual harassment are some of the issues they
regularly face, says a 2016 memorandum submitted to the West Bengal government
by the Griho Shramik Adhikar Abhiyan, a collective of organisations and unions
of domestic workers.

The memorandum also lists victimisation
by traffickers and placement agencies, forced migration, a lack of welfare
measures and of skill development avenues. It notes that domestic workers are
recognised under the Unorganised Workers’ Social Security Act (2008) and the
Sexual Harassment of Women at Workplace (Prevention, Prohibition and Redressal)
Act, 2013. But their working conditions were yet to be regulated by the West
Bengal government.

The central government has formulated a draft national
policy for domestic workers with recommendations on social security and minimum
wages. But its implementation has been left to the states.

In June 2018, a domestic workers’ organisation, Paschim Banga Griha Paricharika Samity was
granted trade union status for the first time in West Bengal.  Soon after, the organisation presented its
demands to the state government, including Rs. 54 as the hourly wage, maternal
leave, four days paid leave each month and the right to use the toilet at the
workplace.

“If the women ask for more wages, they can
lose their jobs, since others are willing to work at lesser rates,” says Mallika
Das, who works with Parichiti, a Kolkata-based non-governmental organisation that
works with domestic workers. “There is no creche at the workplace, so they are
forced to leave their children with others. They are sometimes given stale food
to eat. Some employers do not even allow them use their toilets. The toilets in
the railway station are mostly locked, broken or in such a bad condition that
the women have to hold themselves until they reach home in the evening.”

Breshpati’s employers permit her to use their
toilets.  “I knead their chapatis and
cut and chop vegetables with my own hands. Why should they object?” Her
biggest  discomfort is having to stand
all day in the houses she works at and in the train while returning. “My legs
and back constantly ache,” she admits.

The night passes and Canning station begins to stir
around 4 a.m. We see Breshpati on the platform, a cup of tea and biscuits in
hand. At that early hour, she appears fresh with her hair tied in a bun, the bindi
in place and her face shining. Other women arrive, all going to work, including
her friend Basanti Sardar, who works at Jadavpur too. “Come rain or shine, we
maids must go and work, else our employers will be angry. They can’t do without
us!” says Basanti. The women laugh.

“Our lives are tough and we are poor. But these are
the moments of laughter that we live for,” says Breshpati. At that early hour,
the train is empty, but it will rapidly fill as it heads into Kolkata.
Breshpati and Basanti sit in the general compartment instead of the ladies
compartment. “In the general compartment, men sometimes offer their seats and
will not scream at us. When possible, we board this compartment,” Basanti says. 

The train leaves at 4:30 a.m. and reached Jadavpur after
roughly 75 minutes. Breshpati hurries away, walking, to her workplace, amid the
crowds of other domestic workers making their way outside the station.

Siddharth Adelkar

Many workers also travel from Lakshmikantapur town in
South 24 Parganas district, to Sealdah. The train journey of over 60 kilometres
takes around 85 minutes. Chameli Baidya boards from Mathurapur Road station, the third stop on the line.
She works at six households in the Ballygunge neighbourhood in south Kolkata. Ten
years ago, she had a different life.

“My husband and I owned a paan-beedi shop,” she recalls. “Things were fine for some
time, then my husband stopped working and began wasting money. We had to close the
shop and I started working at people’s houses. When I ran the shop, I was
independent. Now, working at people’s places, I get scolded if I am late or if
I miss even a day’s work.” Chameli is now unable to even pay her house rent,
and she and her husband, along with their three daughters and a son, live in a
shanty near the Mathurapur railway line.

Chameli says the train journey is more difficult than
working in houses. “I suffer each morning during the journey. Everyone pushes
and screams. Sometimes, people even start hitting each other. There is no place
to sit. If I had a handful of rice to put in my children’s mouths, I would not
make this journey. I would stay at home.”

Slow train, hard work, low wages, long days

மெல்ல செல்லும் ரயில்,கடினமான வேலை,குறைவான சம்பளம்,நீளும் நாட்கள்

धीमी ट्रेनें और लंबे दिन, हाड़तोड़ मेहनत और मामूली मजूरी

دھیمی ٹرین، کڑی محنت، کم مزدوری، لمبے دن

লেহেমীয়া ৰেল, হাড়ভঙা শ্ৰম আৰু দীঘলীয়া দিনবোৰ

ଧିମା ଟ୍ରେନ୍‌, କଷ୍ଟ କାମ, କମ୍‌ ମଜୁରୀ, ଲମ୍ବା ଦିନ

संथ गाडी, अपार कष्ट, अपुरा पगार, न संपणारे दिवस

মন্থর ট্রেন, হাড়ভাঙা খাটুনি, নামমাত্র মজুরি, দীর্ঘ দিবস

Canning

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Slow train, hard work, low wages, long days

Many women domestic workers travel every day from faraway stations on the fringes of the Sundarbans to south Kolkata. The crush of the long train journey adds to the demands of their ceaseless workdays

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