I see these two women chatting away over cups of tea, so completely engrossed in their conversation that they stay unaware of my presence until I walk up to them and say hello. They remain oblivious to the outside world during our exchange; the baker, the vegetable vendor, the local boys that ride up on their bicycles, wondering why it is these women that caught my camera’s eye, all fail to make any real impact on their hearty laughter.
Readily agreeing to my request, the two shift up and make some space for me to sit down, one of them asking me in a combination of Tamil and sign language if I’d like some tea.
Vijiya (left), can speak in Kannada and Tamil, whereas Thoumani (right) nods and shakes her head in various directions in agreement with Vijiya, sometimes echoing what she has to say, and at other times making slight alterations to her statements in Tamil.
I begin by speaking with Vijiya, who has a peculiar straightforwardness to her. I ask her what her age is, and she gives me a definitive ‘27’, only to ponder about the accuracy of this figure a few seconds later. I haven’t moved on to my next question as yet and she blurts out that she’s not married, with an urgency that leaves me a little baffled. So I shift to a safer topic and ask her where she is from. Tamil Nadu, she tells me. It has been 8 years since she moved to Bangalore for work- a city that offers far richer opportunities than her town in Tamil Nadu. We begin to talk about her family- she has eight siblings- and she tells me that she wants to get married in two years. ‘Oh, is that so?’ I ask, attempting to lead the conversation in whichever way she steers it. But she drops it, maybe realizing that two years is further away than she can realistically plan for, maybe just because She doesn’t want to talk about the things she doesn’t have, she says it makes her sad.
Thoumani, although only a maximum of ten years older than Vijiya, has already been married for twenty years and even has a daughter who is married, as well as a son in the fifth standard.
I ask her about the future, and she laughs. I’m not quite sure if she is ridiculing me or if she is humoring the concept of having future plans and fancy hopes, perhaps it is a bit of both. She says ‘I’ve come here to work- everyday- to carry stones on my head and earn a living. That’s as much about the future as there is’.
