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WORLD April 22, 1999 VNN3671 Give Them Their Dignity FROM THE HINDU INDIA, Apr 22 (VNN) — The Hindu - Sunday, March 28, 1999 UNLOVINGLY YOURS A synchronised chant of "hare krishna, krishna-krishna" echoes inside a dark and somewhat dingy compound of a building called "bhajanashram". In the dim glow of low voltage bulbs, one can see hundreds of faces - some young and some wrinkled, each expressing a tragedy. Draped in coarse white saris - either clean or soiled, torn or perforated - and sporting a 'chandan' tilak that stretches from the forehead to the nose, these are "unlovingly yours" - the anonymous widows. Their life, full of bizarre tales, is a fright, and death, the only escape. That is why each one, with some determination, clutches on to her salvation - the rosary. Each time they sing in praise of Lord Krishna, their eyes light up like the occasional flicker of the 'diya' placed before the idol inside the bhajanashram. Time is 6 a.m. and this listless city of Vrindavan is already reverberating with sad notes. Three bhajanashrams in the holy land, which accommodate roughly 1,200 widows for an interminable routine of chanting, are the only spots of activity with the rising sun. When the city is still asleep, these frail frames battered by age, poverty, trauma and humiliation, set out with a quiet sense of purpose. Scurrying down the alleys of Vrindavan, they try to make it on time to the bhajanashrams for their "only and decent source of income for the day". The gates close when about 3,600 tokens are exhausted on a first-come-first-served basis to gain entry. The luckier ones inside earn 200 gms of rice and 50 gms of dal (lentil) for invoking Lord Krishna from 6 a.m. to 10 a.m. The afternoon session from 3 p.m. to 7 p.m. fetches them Rs. two each. Poverty embraces everyone here. Mouldering in loneliness, these widows have nothing to bargain for an honourable existence. They beg on the streets hoping that their plight will prick the conscience of the rich and they would either organise a free meal, distribute clothes or blankets or toss a few coins in their bowls. A few big temples in the city organise daily 'langars' where food served is limited. For instance, at the famous Shri Rangji ka Mandir, a local businessman donates 19 kg flour and two kg lentil everyday. Besides widows, other destitutes also make a beeline hoping to get one roti and a 'karchi-full' of diluted dal. Abandoned by their families and ostracised by society, the widows are caught in an act of survival. It requires money. A majority of them sell the rice and dal which they get from bhajanashrams on a monthly basis to pay rent. The rice sells for Rs. 8-10 kg and dal for Rs. 15-20 kg in the open market. Each time, much to their dismay, they discover that the given quantity does not measure up to the actual weight it ought to be, at the time of selling. Young widows, it is alleged, are taken as concubines by rich businessmen and ashram managers. Squirming in mortification, some are forced to satiate the lust of their landlords when they are unable to pay rents which have increased from Rs. five to 50 three decades ago to Rs. 50-300. Only their work - whether it is chanting at bhajanashrams or as domestic help in several homes - does not fetch them any more than what it used to 10, 20 or 30 years ago. Any demand for more means losing the job or some form of harassment. In other words, their vulnerability is exploited to the hilt. Mostly, the widows share the accommodation since they are unable to pay single rents. And they live in conditions unfit for human survival. It is shocking but not uncommon to find ten women squeezed in a room meant for two or even up to 40 in rooms without basic sanitation facilities. There is no escape from human frailties, vices and betrayals. The widows cannot walk alone on the streets after dark as their apprehensions are very real. The trepidation of being accosted by anybody anywhere is unconquered, age no matter. Rickshaw pullers, shopkeepers, local goons, the greed of the rich and not-so- rich... the gaunt and sad-eyed faces of the widows tell a story each. So whether one speaks to Gauri Devi or Meera Devi, Ranu Mukherji or Susheela Dasi, Radha Rani or Jugal Dasi, their disquiet is unmistakable. On most occasions, they say, they evoke derisive remarks from the locals who nickname them commonly as "Bangalans". Over the years, Vrindavan has become the most sought after home for widows from West Bengal. Legend traces the journey of a 16th Century saint from Bengal, Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, to Vrindavan in search of Lord Krishna. He built many temples for his God and died here. Therefore, it is generally believed in Bengal that 'moksha' can be attained in Vrindavan by nurturing a sole desire of serving the Lord. That is why, widows who find no love and respect in their homes, either come to Vrindavan on their own or are left behind by their families. Most of their case-sheets are identical. Married at the age of six to 12, widowed by the time they are into their teens or adulthood. From there on begins their life of torment till death rescues them. Despite hailing from the State of the great social reformer, Raja Ram Mohan Roy, who successfully fought for abolition of 'sati', social ostracism unfortunately works far too swiftly in native Bengal for the left behind female spouse. The hollowness of the society's customs is a metaphor for its decadent state. Yet decade after decade, traditions are maintained that exact an enormous price. A widow is associated with ill-luck and held responsible for her husband's death. Therefore, she is ordained to a rigorous life of penance. This means, she has to shave her head, discard ornaments and colourful clothes, eat only one frugal meal a day cooked by her and alienate herself from all family gatherings and any auspicious event. Even though such so-called imperatives are thrust upon her to suppress her sexuality, she becomes an easy victim of the lust of men within the family and later driven out on immoral grounds. Modernity too has cast its evil shadow. If a woman is widowed at an older age, her children find her less useful and more of a liability. Walk anywhere in Vrindavan and it appears like a city of clones - disillusioned faces and shaved heads, emaciated bodies draped in white saris, rosary beads around their neck and the characteristic sandalwood paste tilak on their forehead. Bent with age, one can see them tottering alone or hobbling with the help of a stick or huddled in groups, trying to share some camaraderie among themselves. Bleeding memories weaves a oneness among them and the inexplicability of it all haunts them. There are also many who no longer feel the pain of being unwanted or having to bear such a dismal and depressing existence. "Ab kya farak parta hain (what difference does it make now)" - is the authoritative dismissal of 29-year-old Ruby, married at eight, widowed at 17, mother of a 13-year-old daughter and who has been raped...It no longer hurts her to talk about it. She is beyond taunts and fear today. Her eyes have dried up, her body has healed but it is her bruised soul that has made her somewhat brazen. Then there is also 26-year-old Bina Dasi, who has found an alternative to cope with life's uncertainties. She has committed a 'sacrilege', by giving herself and her seven-year-old daughter a false sense of protection. She continues to wear 'sindoor' to save herself from the perpetrators of crime, lurking in the dark alleys. Mrs. Kamala Ghosh, principal of Ramakrishna Vivekananda junior and high school says that the police do not register complaints of sexual or other harassment made by the widows. "They have no one to support or speak for them and so it is easy to humiliate and ignore them," she asserts. It was her constant cries for help for widows and the commitment of another dedicated social worker, Ms. Swaraj Lata Goel, that the plight of widows and the urgent need to do something for them caught the attention of the National Commission for Women (NCW), when Ms. Mohini Giri was its chairperson. In 1996, she ordered a study, which was conducted by Ms. Deepali Bhanot. The study not only highlighted their deplorable condition but also came out with suggestions for rehabilitating them. It is three years now but for the 10,000 widows in Vrindavan or 15,000 in adjoining areas of Barsana, Radhakunj, Goverdhan and Chitrakoot, or for that matter 33 million in the country - who constitute eight per cent of the total female population, there are no debates on their dreams and the inhuman violation of their rights. "Nobody has a sense of responsibility and corruption is all pervading," says Ms. Ghosh. After making innumerable trips to Mathura, she has been able to get about 1,500 pension applications processed so far while another 2,500 applications are pending since 1996. The widows are entitled to a monthly pension of Rs. 125 a month from the Government and in July last year, the Centre released Rs. five crores for pension disbursement. But, according to Ms. Ghosh, the State does not recognise the widows for the scheme because they are not domicile citizens of U.P. On the other hand, the West Bengal Government washes its hands off because the widows are no longer residing there, having left their homes, years and decades ago. While the issue is footballed between two State authorities, where the money goes is no longer a complex question. The 1000-odd widows whom Ms. Ghosh has managed to bring under the social security net are, however, posed with a different set of problems. The cheques arrive late, or are issued against wrong names, or in some cases the amount deposited directly into their bank accounts are 50 per cent of their due. It is practically impossible for these widows to keep rushing to Mathura to rectify the errors. So many fall into the hands of self-appointed agents who cheat them further. Of late, another problem has emerged. While several new applicants have become eligible to withdraw money, they are unable to open bank accounts owing to the Government's mandatory requirement of possessing a ration card or having a PAN (Permanent Account Number). "Is this not a cruel joke? The State can easily remove these hurdles only if it chooses to recognise them and admit the mistakes committed by its machinery," Ms. Ghosh points out. When contacted by The Hindu, the District Magistrate of Mathura, Mr. S. P. Goel, was not willing to take cognisance of such complaints on the plea that there was no documentation of widows in Vrindavan. After seeing some samples, he reluctantly replied, "human errors are possible." "By this year end, we hope to computerise our records and also complete the State survey on the number of widows and their profile. We would like to give widow pension to all entitled but you should understand, the problem is not specific to Vrindavan alone," he said, almost justifying the inaction stemming from a lackadaisical attitude. In fact, the DM was more emphatic about the Centre's directive to West Bengal Government last year to "stop the trend of widows choosing to settle down in Vrindavan and Mathura." "The West Bengal Government may ultimately take its own time to launch an awareness campaign to dissuade widows from leaving their native homes. But where is the guarantee for success? If Vrindavan can hold a population of Nepali women and children - allegedly victims of illicit trafficking and sex racket - why can't it be more sympathetic towards its own citizens? Why can't it help women, who have lost their husbands, assert their rights to live full lives? On the other hand, why should the West Bengal Government camouflage its inability to stop the exodus of widows from the State by utterly cynical and revolting rationalisation that widowed women want to live their remaining years in search of spiritual peace," argues Ms. Goel. Endorsing her views, Ms. Giri says, the State Governments should act in coordination and not miss the delicate issue of protecting the rights of widows. "Which religious doctrine prescribes that women can find salvation in starvation, homelessness and bitter solitude or brings them to such religious towns and pushes them into begging or prostitution to stave off starvation?" she asks. According to Ms. Giri, there is no dearth of funds. The bhajanashrams are flushed with funds, given the huge donations they receive. "What is lacking is proper management and monitoring," she charges. Bhajanashrams, which were started as a charitable trust in 1914 by Seth Jankidas Patodia of Nawalgarh district, essentially to provide food, shelter and clothes to widows and allow them to do the "jap" - says Ms. Bhanot in the NCW report - have turned into commercial institutions. Not only are the funds gobbled up by the ashram managers but most of the ancient palatial buildings where the widows were earlier provided free or cheap accommodation, are either being sold for construction of estates or let out on high rents to visitors. When encountered, Mr. B. N. Sharma at one of the three bhajanashrams in Vrindavan dismissed these as baseless allegations and claimed that the trust distributes four saris, two blouses and one blanket every year to the widows. But then, reality shows otherwise. Most of these widows have only a sari each and are even without a blouse or petticoat. "Only if somebody donates clothes or blankets, the lucky among us get it and perhaps sell it later for money," informs 75-year-old Savitri Devi. Most of these widows strive to save money for their funeral. Some have bank accounts. But they do not operate it during their lifetime. And ultimately they die quietly, either due to illness or unattended. According to the NCW study, Rs. 60 lakhs lies unclaimed in banks because the account holders have died. Says Ms. Ghosh, the Government, on compassionate grounds, can easily work on the logistics and use this money for the welfare of the destitutes, besides imposing a blanket auditing of funds coming in and going out of the bhajanashrams. The problems of widows undoubtedly requires undivided attention of the Government. But alas that is missing. Just because the widows are old and fated to die does not mean a continued abuse of their right to exist with dignity. Year after year, with sickening regularity, their stories of despair are repeated but the nation is yet to react. Perhaps the widows need a rightful share of media limelight too for redeeming their tomorrows. Unwavering enthusiasm of the likes of Ms. Giri, Ms. Ghosh or Ms. Goel has to be infectious so that more audible noises are made in the right places. Only then, will such inhuman action and atrocities on women end. - Soma Basu A BLEAK FUTURE A woman distraught by the demise of her husband sat huddled in a corner of a room. The silence was broken by the sound of the wooden slippers of the priest. He asked her to stretch out her hand. Even before she knew what was happening, her wrists were beaten till the tinkling of the bangles stopped. Green, red and yellow glass pieces lay shattered on the floor. A hand reached out and plucked the bindi from her forehead - a widow was born. The scene has often captured the imagination. The images of sati, child widows and ascetic widows have always evoked pity, awe and horror. But what has society done to eliminate their suffering? Widows are often perceived to be a burden; inauspicious, and sexually dangerous. A widow is totally isolated upon the demise of her husband. A study at Vrindawan showed that parents-in-law leave widowed daughters-in-law at holy places and grab any land the women own. A widow is known to be "paraya dhan" and has no rights in her parental home. The number of widows according to 1991 census was eight per cent, which in 1999 has reached 10 per cent. This means that there are 50 milion widows in India. Mahatma Gandhi said: "A woman is the companion of man, gifted with equal mental capacities. She has the right to participate in all activities, and has the same right of freedom and liberty as he. By sheer force of a vicious custom, even the most ignorant and worthless men have been enjoying a superiority over women which they do not deserve and ought not to have." A hymn in the Rid Ved speaks of an ashirvad (blessing) to daughters-in-law to be 'bold and confident while in assemblies". Many other hymns in our vedas speak of a better status women enjoyed then. They had considerable freedom in marriage. There was no bar on the remarriage of widows or women remaining unmarried. Much before independence, during the 1931 Karachi session of the Indian National Congress-where representatives of many women's organisations drafted a memorandum of adult franchise without sex discrimination, and the Karachi session of the Indian National Congress, there were historic decisions - a commitment to political equality of women, regardless of their status and qualifications. Widows vis-a-vis widowers in Vedic times did not suffer any special disability. But the condition of women has deteriorated. Since Hindu marriage is only a sacrament and not a contract, there is no compulsory registration of marriages and a deserted and separated women's plight is as bad as a widows. During my term at the National Commission for Women (NCW) I had the opportunity to see the status of deserted and widowed women. It was found that several thousand widows were abandoned, disowned and living in dire circumstances. There bodies were bartered like commodities. We found that most single women have a strong sense of common suffering but also some a common link of strength. My visits brought into focus a range of subjects and issues, surrounding widowhood, including emotions, the issue of an identity crisis and external relationships of widows. From time to time, changes in society have influenced the status of widowhood and the behaviour of society. I discovered that the presence of numerous myths and assumptions that surround widowhood are derived from society and also discovered the effect these myths have on the social development of a widow. Despite differences, as far as social and regional backgrounds are concerned, there was a commonality in that all widows had to readjust their lives. And, most of them receive very little support from their in-laws. Statistics say: there are 33 million widows in India (1991 census); eight per cent of the total female population are widows; every fourth household in India has a widow and fifty per cent of widows are over 50 years. Widowhood is a social issue. Of prime importance are shelter (living arrangements) remarriage options, employment and property rights. Compared to other women, the mortality rate of a widow is much higher, as she is more prone to suffer from ill- health and the ageing process is accelerated. It was found that mortality rates are 85 per cent higher among widows than among married women. We should focus on inheritance laws, property rights of women with special reference to residence; maintenance; employment; linkages between poverty and widowhood; linkages between mortality and widowhood. Widows in India, especially in North India, experience particularly higher levels of deprivation. This probably accounts for the fact that there is a higher incidence of widowhood in North India than in South India - South Indian women have a great chance of survival as they have greater acceptability within the family. The questions that arise today are what does a widow want and need? Change of attitudes in society; employment opportunities or self help opportunities for widows; property rights and social security and identity. - V. Mohini Giri Not for commercial use. Solely to be fairly used for the educational purposes of research and open discussion. 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