The Middle- Class!

We always look at the right side of the menu card, first. We buy some gold and one diamond ring, earrings, etc and lock it up in our bank lockers. We wear them may be only ten times in all of our lives. We always are gifted expensive crockery and we always keep it in our showcases, saving them for the guests. They come and go but we only sometimes  use it. We never break rules and follow all the laws of the state. Though if we do break a traffic signal once every three years we do get caught. We always make sure that we vote and when we get very angry with the government we stand under the scorching sun and shout slogans. ( while constantly worrying about not getting the salary for that day).  Welcome to my world, into the world of  the middle- class.

My mother and father have struggled their way up here. Their life as youngsters was not easy. Though there was always food on the table, they had to grow up too quickly. Both of them didn’t have too many luxuries but they do say, they had a very happy childhood. When my mother looks at the number of clothes I buy she always tells me her tale. She only had two pairs of frocks, which graduated to salwar kameez as she got older. My grand mom stitched it for her. She had to wash her clothes and iron them, everyday. There wasn’t a choice you see. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have clothes to wear the next day. By the age of 15, she was already taking tuitions and helping with the finances. She would walk miles to her school, if it was really far away, cycle. Spending money on a tanga or rickshaw was a luxury they couldn’t afford. My father was the eldest of all the siblings and there were responsibilities. He gave a bank exam at 18, and got in and has been on a pay roll since then. At 18, he had to start earning, he had dreams of studying more, he still does! Though he still has responsibilities. So he works in the same bank.

My parents came to Bombay after marriage. They both got exposed to tall buildings, rich people and big cars, unlike Gwalior. They like every small town person who comes to Bombay were inspired with what they saw and decided that they would give their children the good life. They worked hard both of them, one as a teacher other as a banker and made some money. If my parents wouldn’t have come to Bombay I would have never played badminton. Badminton is a very upper middle class sport. The rackets, shoes, shuttles, coaching, etc everything is really expensive. I’m still surprised they chose to put me in this sport. I can imagine how difficult it would have been. The adjustments they would have made in their lives. The sarees mom never took, the watch that Baba loved but would never buy.  All those sacrifices they made was their struggle to keep my dream alive. I will never forget that, I can’t. When today I live my dream and take my mostly selfish decisions, I am always aware of a fact- it’s a luxury provided by my middle class parents.

My mother retired a little early from her teaching career. Since then she runs the house in the most money efficient way, spending only the money that is really required.  She is a professional bargainer, she always takes the bus and never the rickshaw and she tells us to do the same. She might have stopped working but she has not lost her self- esteem. Baba knows that, so when mother asks him for one saree, he makes sure he buys three. As we all know mother will never ask for something unless it’s a necessity. My mother recently was really fed up with the lack of space in the house. She told baba we have to buy a new house, it was time. Baba like the obedient husband went to see housing projects all over the city, nothing was in a range he could afford right away. Mom sensed his disappointment and told  all of us how all the houses were so small and ugly and our house was so much better. While she said that, baba smiled and mother kept her hand on his. Oh! Middle class love (if  there is such a thing) – it’s not about the expensive gifts, the fancy dinners, or hugs and kisses. It’s about the subtle things- that touch of the hand, that look in the eye, the constant support when the chips are down. There’s nothing flashy about it. To spot it  you need a microscopic vision.  Though once you see it, you realise it was always there and ample of it.

When Baba today tells people about how I own a bigger car than him, or how I draw a salary which is as good as his and how my tax return file is bigger than his, there is always a sense of pride in him. It always bring a smile on my face. The truth though is, that even if I own a flat, or drive a Beetle, I will always look at the right side of the menu card. I will buy the diamonds and never wear them. Even if I cross the middle class barrier in kind I will always be a middle class girl in mind and heart. I am sure that’s not such a bad thing after all!

IMG_3234
AAI BABA 🙂

Recently one of my BPCL bosses, came and said, ” Aditi you are too emotional and gentle in your ways. In today’s world you need to be a more practical and aggressive person to survive. You need to stop being a ‘ middle-class Marathi girl’. ”

” But that’s my strength sir.” I responded

” What is?” my boss asked.

” Being middle-class.” I said.

He was a little taken aback, stunned. After a few seconds though he smiled and patted me on the back, and left.

It was my turn to smile. I did!

Advertisement

18 thoughts on “The Middle- Class!

  1. Loved this, Aditi One identifies immediately with what you say.Without the middle class to work and grind and pay respects, obey the law and pay taxes this country is nothing but sharks and their feed

    Like

  2. Great writing. I identified myself with several parts of your narrative. The middle class mentality [spoken so derisively at times] never dies, and that can be a very substantial strength, as I have found.

    Like

  3. Couldnt help but share the similarities in my life, the life of another middle class guy..dad is a banker who got into his job very young. mom, a teacher who quit coz there was swelling in her throat and she couldnt do it anymore. the changing of houses , the love, the fights, doing everything they can for their children.. Proud to be a middle class guy and thank you for writing such a piece coz this is what India is truly about..the MIDDLE CLASS..:)

    Like

  4. Very well written, Aditi, you have your head firmly screwed on you square shoulders. All the best for a wonderful career. There used to be an AIR ( All India Radio ) grade A vocalist in Hindustani shastreeya genre by the name of Sumati Mutatkar, any relation to you? I have a vague recollection that she too was a teacher.

    Warmest wishes

    Max Babi
    Pune

    Like

  5. Excellent. You have a good head on your shoulders. I congratulate you on your achievements thus far, and, wish you all the happiness in life. May all your dreams turn to fond memories before you reach my age.

    Like

  6. HI Aditi,
    I m writing this comment with full smile on face,I can say what respect you have about your family, that respect must everybody have,
    My father is Peon (10th fail) in the school and mother (4th pass) is care taker in play group,and we 2 son living in school room and you will not believe that we both are engineers and my bother is doing MBA on one of the top B-school (IIM trichy), My parents took loans, did every possible work, Part time jobs to study us, and we also did, I have loads of respect of every parents.

    And yes and I also feel everywhere that middle class is our strength, we can connect people very fast, we can understand the people, and many more, once again nice thought and nice written aditi, cheers aditi

    MANUS KITIHI MOTHA ZALA TARI PAY JAMINILA TEKLE PAHIJET, 🙂
    TE JAMAL KI AYUSHYAT SAGAL JAMU SHAKAT, MAG TO KUNIHI ASEL 🙂

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s