Amid the teeming millions in India's economic capital, there remain a large number of women who have joined the workforce after a prolonged domesticated existence. Seldom had most of them stepped into a bank or written a cheque until circumstance forced them to do so. But once they had to overcome their diffidence, they faced the challenge and took charge of their own fate.A young widow with two small children, whose businessman husband was killed in the 26/11 attacks, found herself thrown into the deep end all of a sudden. She had till then led a protected existence in upscale south Mumbai. Life revolved around overseeing the children's education and extra-curricular activities. She socialized with a privileged peer group that discussed finances, mostly with reference to luxury purchases and foreign holidays. The November '08 terrorist attack brought this dream world crashing down.
"Apart from the trauma of losing my husband in a brutal manner, what petrified me was that I knew nothing of his business. I had never signed a cheque before. Fortunately, my husband had a loyal staff who showed me the ropes when I took his chair a year later," says the woman who wished to remain unnamed. Four years later, the company has recouped and is running as it did in his time.
Women from all sections of society have faced the challenge of suddenly having to step out of the house and fend for their families in the working world.
Urmila Salunkhe, programme officer at Akshara, an organization working for women's empowerment, said, "A whole generation of middle-class Maharashtrian housewives suddenly found the home economy rudderless when their husbands lost their jobs as textile workers after the mills closed down in the early 1980s. Many women did what they could do best to keep the home fires burning. They either became domestic workers or began to run 'khanavals' or tiffin services for migrant workers whose families had not accompanied them to Mumbai. Here, too, there was vast competition from roadside eateries and small hotels. Housewives found themselves at a disadvantage because they were not savvy at marketing their skills."
Salunkhe said the homemaker who has never been part of the workforce is plagued by self-doubt. "Often she is not well educated, does not have her own bank account and is not exposed to the wide world. Domestic violence is also a grim reality," she said.
It takes one spark to light a fire, though. A former millworker's wife now leads a self-help group for a whole community in Prabhadevi. Rekha Devre, who knew little beyond home and hearth when her husband became unemployed, has become a beacon for others facing a similar predicament.
"The BMC runs a project known as the Mahila Bachat Gat, which empowers women by getting them to put aside small savings and obtain subsidized loans to set up private enterprises," she said.
Devre said scores of women, some above 50, who had never stepped outside their homes, are now the main breadwinners for their families. The Mahila Bachat Gat runs training programmes in making and selling various items, like chocolate, incense sticks, candles, washing powder and other household items. "Where the women once found stepping into a bank a daunting task, now they do not bat an eyelid while dealing with policemen," she laughed.
Going back to school was her class act
Life gave a rude jolt to Thane resident Sucheta Khot after her husband's flourishing business went bust overnight in 2007 and the family stared bankruptcy in the face. "We were living in luxury—a sprawling home in Vasant Vihar, a car, jewellery, the best of comforts—and suddenly the party came to an end. We were not prepared for it. Our children were growing. We had to sell the flat and buy a smaller tenement," said Khot.
The homemaker and mother of two—and master's degree holder in industry psychology—decided to roll up her sleeves and take things head-on. "Initially, I took up assignments with the HR division of companies in Thane, but my husband disliked the idea of me working in the daily grind. So I took up teaching assignments in schools and trained girls in classical dance. But, my true calling was psychology. So I teamed up with a clinical psychologist, and we decided to set up our own centre," Khot said.
The timing was inauspicious, given a series of personal tragedies. Moreover, her friend called off the partnership, leaving her to try her entrepreneurial skills alone. "I could not practise as a counselor, as I was not a clinical psychologist. Moreover, I was saddled with additional bills for the rented commercial space. I then chanced upon phonetics and took up classes to train children in speaking and introducing them to books through storytelling and songs," Khot said. From an initial enrollment of four children, she now heads a full-fledged institute that offers a bouquet of courses, from improving vocabulary skills to playing with colours. —Nitin Yeshwantrao
Catering to the household's needs
For Medha Deshpande, once a SoBo resident, life came full circle when her husband lost a high-paying job in 2000. The hopelessly optimistic Deshpande then took to being a multi-tasking businesswoman. A resident of Garden Enclave, Thane, she used her culinary skills to keep the home fires burning.
"It has been a long and tough journey over 12 years. Today, I run a small food empire, with assistants and a vehicle. My turnover is in lakhs," said Deshpande. "It was not all that rosy at first. My son and I went from house to house dropping pamphlets and urging people to give me business. We would get small orders and my son delivered parcels on his bicycle."
Life was tough given her husband's unemployment, ailing health and monthly commitments. "I was very difficult as my husband suffered a heart-attack and close relatives and friends virtually shunned us as they considered my work menial and lowly. But, there was no other option other than fight it out," Deshpande said.
Today, the gritty businesswoman has earned respect from her family and as an entrepreneur. "There was a time when we had no money to make purchases to complete a catering order. I would take an advance from clients to buy the goods. There were no utensils. If there was a big order, my son carried the cooker to the client's home and emptied the contents into their vessels." Deshpande recalled. Her fingers, badly bruised from cutting, chopping and cooking, are a reminder of her years of toil. —Nitin Yeshwantrao
