‘‘WHEN she told us she would defer her marriage by a year for Arshu’s sake, Sanjeev and I couldn’t believe our ears,’’ exclaims 31-year-old Tarika Roy, a senior officer in the Ministry of Railways. With nuclear families the norm, the domestic help as the stabilising factor is no stranger rarity for career-oriented couples such as Sanjeev (33) and Tarika (31) Roy, and their one-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Arshia.
Margaret, 28, came from a village near Ranchi to live with the Roys for just six months, to earn some money before she got married. But gradually, as Arshia became more and more attached to her, she herself suggested that she delay her wedding by a year; she has now been with the Roys for a year-and-a-half. ‘‘I don’t think I could have made such a sacrifice myself,’’ says Tarika in her salute.
Clearly, for both Sanjeev, a business development manager at the British High Commission, and Tarika, life and career challenges would have been difficult to meet without Margaret’s presence. ‘‘She came to us when I was on maternity leave. After Arshia was born, she would start crying each time Margaret tried to take her in her lap. That really hurt her, but she kept at it, so much so that Arshia can’t live without Margaretdidi, as she calls her,’’ says Tarika.
Margaret’s only duty is taking care of the child. ‘‘We pay her as much as another family would pay someone for childcare and cooking. I just think it’s great she is genuine and looks after my child like a mother would,’’ says Tarika.
For all that, there are areas of unease. For instance, Sanjeev claims to have bought a television set for Margaret. But Margaret isn’t too fond of watching TV, and Tarika is quite happy with that. So far as the ‘don’ts’ are concerned, Sanjeev says, ‘‘We don’t believe in locking things or forbidding her to do this or that. I have seen strong master-servant equations in my friends’ circle. But given the background Tarika and I come from, we completely defy that.’’ The result is a well-travelled Margaret, who has been with the family on every vacation, from Shimla and Manali to Mathura. A visit to UK was the only exception, for obvious reasons.
Another awkward moment cropped up when the Roys dropped in at Basil and Thyme, a restaurant at the upmarket Santushti shopping complex in New Delhi. ‘‘Usually, when we eat out, she sits with us and has whatever we have. But in this case, there were many foreigners and we had to make Margaret wait outside with Arshu while we had a quick bite. We felt awful, but couldn’t help it,’’ recalls Sanjeev.
Then there was the time Sanjeev took the day off from work impulsively, and accidentally answered a phone call for Margaret. ‘‘But we never made it an issue. If she receives some calls, let her. Because if we bar that, we think — selfishly enough — she might not be as faithful to Arshia or might start doing things on the sly,’’ explains Tarika.
And there is enough scope for that, for after the Roys leave for work at 9 am, Margaret takes over. ‘‘There are times when I almost feel that Margaret is the real mother and I am the caretaker nanny,’’ says Tarika almost exasperatedly. ‘‘If you tell Arshia that Mummy or Papa will get angry, she doesn’t really bother. But mention that Margaretdidi is angry, and see her tone change!’’
There may be more in that tone of exasperation than meets the eye. ‘‘Given the amount of time Arshia spends with Margaret, it’s natural the child pick up her habits. For instance, since Margaret has plain boiled rice, Arshia refuses to eat anything else — even in London!’’ complains Sanjeev. ‘‘Also, her pronunciation is influenced by Margaret’s. Since she says chabaal (for rice), so does Arshia.’’
After a brief pause, Tarika adds, ‘‘Of course, on the bright side, Arshia is growing to be an independent kid. She doesn’t cling to me when we go out, unlike my niece, who is practically tethered to her mother when they come to visit us.’’
But while Sanjeev’s mother worries that Arshia is a neglected child on account of a working mother, the Roys have a bigger anxiety to deal with: What happens once November rolls around, and Margaret leaves to get married? We turn to the subject of discussion — painfully shy because of her unease with Hindi and English — and pose the question. With a beam, she replies, ‘‘I get the dulha (groom) here and stay on!’’ And peals of laughter break out.