S.Jayalaxmi

 An example of a woman defying all patriarchy in the 20th century was my Pāṭi (grandmother). If I can summarize from all the stories I've heard from Pāṭi, it is that strong independent compassionate women are unforgettable and leave a lasting impression across several generations.

Having lived through Primary School plus an additional few years of high school and university with her and away from my parents, my Pāṭi was not just my baby sitter for my working parents. She was my teacher, the google(probably a better one) to my curiosity and a well-read, well-informed guide to lead me onto things I seemingly liked (music being one). The bond I shared with her is what motivates me to pen further with stories that I heard straight from her until a month before her demise.

I must confess, it is hard to listen to some of the hardship stories with a straight face. Worst, when recounted so nonchalantly by the person who has been at the centre of it.

In the early 20th century post World War I, my Māmā Tātā (maternal great grand uncle), moved his family of parents and 4 siblings from British India to Hyderabad State on the prospect of finding a English teaching job.

Hyderabad was a city of dreams as well as an insecure place for women. An often deployed quick-fix solution was to marry women off young to someone capable and of similar age within the same community. Such was the case with my  Koḷḷu Pāṭi (great grandmother). However, marriage was short lived; she was widowed early with 2 small children, one of them being Jayalaxmi, my Pāṭi. 

Between living a widowed life amidst the husband's extended family and finding her own path, Koḷḷu Pāṭi somehow chose the rarely chosen brave latter option. She returned to her brother's place, picked up nursing work at the KEM Hospital, and so helped her brother support the growing joint-family spanning 3 generations.

In those days, weddings in my community was a transaction and much was spent by the family of the woman to send her to their respective new family. That was in most cases a one-way trip. The thought of married women returning to their house of birth (barring a force majeure) was something frowned upon.

Pāṭi recounted how for a long time in her childhood, she believed she was another sibling from the generation. This was evident since she would call her mother and Aunt's as Akkā (sister) and her uncles as Aṇṇā (brother) through their lives.

With the end of World War 2, the Independence of India and the struggles in Hyderabad state, communal tensions and insecurity were abound. Deva vu, the story of Koḷḷu Pāṭi would repeat itself again. Pāṭi was married off to a very affluent and prosperous advocate/police family in modern Ballari. Ammā was born 2 years later. And 2 years later, my Tātā (grandfather) breathed his last. An important decision fork in her life: between continuing to live among her husband's extended family or seeking life on her own, she chose the latter again. She came back to Koḷḷu Pāṭi's house. The joint family now had 4 generations of people to feed and fend. Every nayā paisā was important to account and save for.

Pāṭi was not sure what she would do. She turned to her Māmā for advice. The solution was in finding a teaching job. To get that coveted position, one had to complete a B.Ed. But before a B.Ed, a Matriculation first. Pāṭi took her matriculation exams in private. Borrowed old books, read whatever she could read in her free time and cleared her Matriculation on her first attempt.

Studying for B.Ed full time was not an option in the face of being a wage earner for the family. Pāṭi approached Keyes High School at Secunderabad for work. Without a qualification, the only position available was that of a temporary teacher. This meant she would be called when there was work. Pāṭi refused at first saying she was looking for something permanent and stable. The principal at that time offered her an informal guarantee to hire her everyday until she completed her B.Ed. With that, began her first career at school teaching, one day English to a  class, another day Tamil, another day history and so on. The perk was free school for my Ammā (my mother). A few of her students at school would soon become my Cittis and Perimas (Aunts) through marriage later.

Around similar time, the government of Andhra Pradesh was allotting parcels of land for settlement to teachers at Secunderabad at a token 99 year lease of 1 Rupee per square yard. This was a big sum to arrange for. Māmā Tātā and Koḷḷu Pāṭi searched every nook cranny and arranged for the money to acquire this property. Land bought, now the game of constructing the house would begin. Pāṭi narrated how they would plan and build the house room-by-room (literally). It perhaps took about 10 years to complete. An early precursor to apartment culture, this time it was more of family living together in their respective dwellings. As more youngsters entered into wedlock and started their families, the pressures would begin to show again. That said, there was no bigger joy than growing up amidst this beautiful family of cousins, uncles, aunts, grand uncles and aunts spanning generations. This was the foundations of my training of my customs and my culture. I cherished every moment of this place during my Primary Schooling years.

OK. Job and roof done. One would think, that was the end of worries. However, an ambitious person like Pāṭi was determined to do her M.A. A Masters would enable her to get a position at the Government College as a Lecturer. A job in the government would mean pension and a bit more stability.

The joint family was growing. There were more children and new families in the house to attend to.  At this time, there were 3 women returned from their weddings at home in addition people with mental health issues. Every pie had to be saved and well accounted for.

In these circumstances, getting a Masters by going to school was out of question. Writing in private with used and borrowed material was the only option. 

In our cultures, they say when you go to do a good thing, hindrances always arrive like a test to your will power. Pāṭi got her first masters in 3rd division. 3rd division automatically disqualified her from applying as a government college lecturer. Pāṭi's 3rd division grade was owing to a wedding in the family that she was obligated to attend. The exam was immediately around the corner. With tons of work at the wedding, a daughter to manage, work, she was glad she passed, but her will power doubled to write a second time. Almost like a game of poker, playing all-in when your chips are down.

Whatever I narrate next has brought tears to a few. It is not easy to fathom the kind of personal difficulties one would endure to see success.

The second time over, a determined Pāṭi was looking to borrow a certain expensive book. Luck wouldn't favour her until she chanced by exactly the same book at an exhibition a week before the exams. The book-store owner observed Pāṭi peeking into the book again and again and finally asked what was she looking for. Pāṭi explained her difficulty in affording for the book. 

The Kārmic cycle talk about how goodness begets goodness and the return of favours go beyond a single life and a single person. Pāṭi wasn't sure about what was to happen and why. But the store keeper asked her to keep the book and return it the day after the exams. Pāṭi wanted to show good faith and asked the store keeper to keep her watch as a guarantee of good faith. To which, the storekeeper replied "Well, how then will you keep time during your exams? Take the book and bring it back when you're done". Pāṭi did not know his name, nor has met the storekeeper after returning the book ever, but till just before her death, she recounted this good karma from this good samaritan.

Ok. book arranged. Next her daughter (Ammā) had to be shipped of to be taken care of by relatives so she'd get some time during the weekend. Check. Last thing, was to arrange for her own meals so she can study undisturbed. Done. Problem solved.

Or not. Those weren't the days of a home phone. Relatives would land at will. And if it borders patriarchy, hospitality is key. The extended family of my Tātā arrived to exchange pleasantries. However, they insisted on leaving only after seeing Ammā. So Pāṭi had to go to her relatives and bring my mother home, so they could see, have dinner and leave. Then follows cleanup, prepare Ammā to bed. Lost time: more than 12 precious hours. She was heartbroken. Māmā Tātā, the pillar of support for Pāṭi came and encouraged her to keep her will strong and make use of what is left. 

I've experienced similar master strokes of standing up to difficult situations, from Pāṭi.  Things as trivial as a power outage before exams to more serious topics. "It's done. It is what it is. What's next? There's no point crying over spilt milk. What are you going to do now? Waste more time crying about the past?"

That said, she had one night to go through that precious book and take her exam. Call it will power, luck, brilliance or a nifty combination of all three, she cleared her Masters in 2nd division, the stepping stone to a government job, stability of income and a pension after. 

At this place, Pāṭi felt first time in her life, what it was to be called independent. There was no turning back. She lived thereon on her terms. Never forgetting her legacy,  always eager to assist anyone in trouble, be it family, a friend or a stranger. Pāṭi was a soothsayer and served as a wall of strength for old and young through her life. With a positive intent to maintain good relations, she would never hesitate to stand up when something was amiss.

She narrates as to how good things happened from unknown quarters when stuck in a corner in several counts in her life. She was grateful of that.

On one count, she received a complete stranger holding a letter of introduction from a known relative asking for food and board for two nights. The letter was the validation of the stranger's identity that's all. Put your best foot forward. Leave the rest.

Sometimes, I sit thinking of what a retired life would be. My Pāṭi lived her evening of her life on her own terms, in her own house, paying for all her expenses herself. Till her demise, she had a retinue of assistants who were, no doubt very helpful, but that were being looked after Pāṭi financially. In her dusk, she was giving new hope to these ladies. The cheer on her face till a month back was joy to me.

Patriarchy operates in the name of tradition and passes on confusing values especially to the future generation. While the contemporary Indian woman has shaken off most of these ridiculous shackles, it is hard and takes time, in my perspective, to understand what an Indian woman experiences in her life. Indian women, have in the 20th century been perceived by the patriarchy as the weaker sex, sometimes suppressed and abused and left in the sorrow of silence and shame. I find myself at odds to relate any relevance to certain dos and don'ts that are 'taught and instilled into' women even in this era. Pre-conditions to visiting a place of worship is an example of irrelevance. The list goes on and on. 

In the face of dreaded patriarchy, political insecurities and personal financial instabilities, stories like my Pāṭi's are examples of an ambitious and successful woman against all societal odds that I will cherish and continue to talk about.

The last I met her, she was chuckling about past events in the family even though they were a tad sad. That too with a severe cough. That cough never relented. Rest in peace.

16th July 1931 - 15th January 2025