One day I asked her, where she came from, and somehow she understood the question.
Bangladesh, she said. Her daughters live here and they got her to Mumbai, so that she could work as domestic help and earn money to save her ailing husband, who, along with their son, is still in Bangladesh. "Woh dono ricsaw chalata hai"."Aurat log ko wahan kaam nahi karne dete". "Isliye hum yahan ayee". I was already thanking God for all the freedom I enjoy.
Yesterday, she bunked. Today morning, she came, looked dizzy, did some work and requested my room mate to allow her to go. Her husband died yesterday. "Main kal aaon, aapko dikkat tho nahi?". None of us replied.
Throughout the day , I was thinking of her. Tomorrow, I will open the door for her, with a different attitude.