\u201cI accept this on behalf of those women who wish they were nameless. For their names are called only when their labour is required. Labour that is soul-destroying. Labour that gets no respect in return. Labour that dehumanizes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tehmeena\u2019s eyes glistened as she practised her speech. Her heart beat a little faster. Doing good felt good.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey wish they were nameless because their names are reduced to a label for the work that can be extracted from them.\u201d<\/p>\n
Was the Benarasi silk too opulent for the occasion? Yes. The Baluchari cotton sari would be more apt. Beautiful yet simple.<\/p>\n
\u201cTheirs is a life bereft of things beautiful. I accept this award for my humble contribution towards bettering their lot. Yet so much more remains to be done\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAmna, dear,\u201d Tehmeena said, looking into the mirror of the dressing table she was seated at. She addressed the reflection of the person standing quietly behind her. \u201cYes, madam?\u201d Amna responded politely. \u201cPlease get the Baluchari sari from the cupboard,\u201d Tehmeena said, smiling warmly, \u201cThe one I bought in Calcutta.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am humbled by the fact that I can use my stardom to focus attention on this evil. I look forward to the day when all such women will walk free.\u201d<\/p>\n
Amna brought the sari.\u00a0 She helped Tehmeena drape it, carefully making the pleats, sliding thumb and forefinger along each one so that it did not dissipate on its way down.<\/p>\n
\u201cWith sadness and yet with hope, I accept this award on behalf of modern-day slaves. For that is what these women are. Illiterate, wretched women who are tricked and trafficked. Our country alone accounts for half of such women in the world. Shame!\u201d<\/p>\n
Tehmeena slowly turned around, twisting her elegant neck to see herself reflected in the three panels of her mirror. She made sure that her hair, make-up and dress looked perfect from every angle.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne day these girls will receive the education they need so that their primer no longer reads A is for Abuse, B is for Battered, C is for Cruelty.<\/p>\n
She went over this line a second time: A is for Abuse, B is for Battered, C is for Cruelty. Yes, it would be memorable. It would be quoted by the media. Her fans would tweet it.\u00a0 Most importantly, it would help the cause.<\/p>\n
Tehmeena picked up her bag and went to the shoe rack in the hallway. She was excited to inaugurate her new leather shoes at the awards show. She had ordered them from her friend\u2019s boutique in Paris. They had been delivered just in time. But she did not see them there. \u201cAmna! Amna!\u201d she called out.<\/p>\n
Amna reappeared, damp from the steam of cooking. \u201cAmna, where are those new shoes?\u201d \u201cMadam, which shoes?\u201d \u201cArr\u00e9, the new ones\u2014from abroad?\u201d \u201cA-abroad? I-I don\u2019t know.\u201d \u201cBut I asked you to take them out of the box and keep them in front of the shoe rack.\u201d \u201cNo Madam, you didn\u2019t say anything about shoes\u2026\u201d Amna\u2019s voice trembled.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean I didn\u2019t tell you? Oh, you people are all the same! Find it. Now! Otherwise I\u2019ll cut its price from your salary! Oh, but what\u2019s the use? Your entire month\u2019s pay wouldn\u2019t even cover half of it.\u201d \u201cMadam\u2026\u201d Tehmeena cut her off. \u201cI need it now. For the ceremony! Everyone\u2019s going to watch me when I go up to get my award. But you are so stupid and useless, what would you know of such things?\u201d<\/p>\n
Tehmeena put on a pair of sandals instead. \u2018Stupid and useless\u2019 Amna stood, looking down at her own bare feet. As Tehmeena walked out of the house, it seemed to her that Amna was in her way, so she gave her a shove. Amna lost her balance. As she fell, she hit her head on the corner of the shoe rack. She let out a cry so soft it could not be heard over the sound of the front door slamming shut. She lay there in the hallway, numb. A steady trickle of blood formed a pool around her.<\/p>\n
\u201cHer struggle is my struggle. Her pain is my pain. And till the day she is no longer afraid when her name is called, my name is her name.\u201d<\/p>\n
As Tehmeena finished her acceptance speech, her voice breaking\u2014presumably with emotion\u2014she received a standing ovation.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
[Cover photograph by Sumanto Chattopadhyay]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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