Cheap Blood (BOTM August)

This is the entry for blog of the month August.

She was lying there in the dark room, yellowish beam of oil lamp pouring in through the doorway. The room echoed as she sobbed in anguish. She wasn’t sure which pain was more excruciating, the one that was caused by the wound that her Brahmin mistress gave her or the one that pierced her soul letting all the darkness of night creep inside her. “How long will this continue, Parvati?”, She asked herself as tears rolled down her dark brown cheeks. All the agonizing events of her life were flashing before her eyes. The walls of the servant's quarters seemed to be very eager to swallow her, leaving no trace of her existence behind, and at this point this was exactly what she wished for. Being an optimistic, she always found the bright side of every event, but tonight she was at the brink of plunging deep into the rotten valley of despair. Today she realized once and for all that she can’t make any person in her society acknowledge her worth as a part of the society. She told herself that no matter how hard she tries, she can’t end this system of inequality that squeezes the blood out of some masses while lets some feast upon it. She was tired of fighting this caste system since her childhood. She was always told how cheap her blood was by her mistress. “No one would care even if you die. So stop making fuss about your illness and carry on with your chores", she said once without knowing how shattered she had left little Parvati.

Parvati was born a shudra in a Hindu majority state in Hindustan in 1806. Since her childhood she was not allowed to play with the kids of the higher castes and get education. For her, doing the chores of her master and mistress had to be the first priority. She had been living in these servant's quarters since she was seven. Her master, Vishnu, who was a Brahmin owned an enormous temple but he never allowed Parvati to worship there. She used to sit in the window of the servant's quarters and see the kids of Vishnu going to temple and having Prasad. Despite being in such harsh circumstances, she was very much hopeful that she will make her master and mistress realize her worth. She thought that one day they will know what important role she plays in the society by doing all the chores and that her father who was a peasant, is a part of progress of society in terms of agriculture. She was hopeful that one day her mistress will hold her by her shoulder and confess that she actually appreciates her hard work and whatever bad things happened they were just because of her ignorance and stupidity and she will consider her equal from now on. Little did she know, it was never going to happen. As Parvati grew up, her hopes kept shrinking. And the event of today proved to be the last nail in the coffin of her hopes. As she was serving fruits to the guests of her Brahmin master, she mistakenly dropped the knife in the basket. Her mistress was very embarrassed. Offended and cross with her, she rudely held Parvati by her arm and took her to the kitchen and the next moment the knife was in her flesh. Parvati’s arm burned as her mistress put more pressure on it, blood was pouring out of her wound. “Don’t you know how to behave in front of guests, you cheap blood. You illiterate animal!", She left Parvati writhing in pain saying, “now clean all of this cheap blood of yours". Parvati didn’t remember what happened next. All she knew was that she is no longer going to be a part of this system. She remembered what her shudra friend Arti once said, “we all are same, we should also be treated equal as well". She didn’t know where she was going to stay once she leaves the servant's quarters but one thing she knew was that she’ll get education from the little money she had saved up. She knew that her blood wasn’t cheap. Everyone's blood is precious and so is hers. She won’t let the society tell her that she’s a cheap blood.

And as we all know; outward change comes when we change from within. Parvati had decided to change. Her steps moved towards a new day as the sun shined on the horizon with all it’s might .

Rovaifay Salman.

Batch of 2024.

FJITE.