When visitors from Western shores see the domestic help whom almost all Indian households employ, they are in turns, horrified, disgusted, envious, after which a reluctant and inhibiting feeling of taking advantage of someone else's bad times overcomes them. They then tend to treat the ministrations of such "servants" as we call them, as if they were being treated by a queen!
But Indians know that the employment of domestic help is a small but essential cog in the economic machinery of our country. In fact, in most cases servants are treated with dignity and respect, their fooding, housing, clothing, medical expenses and even the education of their children are taken care of by their employers. In many households servants soon become an integral part of the family, and are treated well. Of course there are women servants who are taken advantage of by their employers and could be raped and silenced with threats and money. And there are instances where such female help are willing partners to the sexual preferences of their employers.
This is the story of one such female servant who worked in Pratik's house many years ago. She was Nasreen, but called Reena by the people in the house. About 18 years old, she was put in to work as the help to make the beds, wash clothes and dishes, do some ironing and general cleaning around the house. Her father was Pratik's father's driver, and he wanted his daughter out of their village to get a taste of city life as she had outgrown the primary school, and the only school in the village. Unable to afford a dowry for her marriage, he decided to make her work for it, and wanted her in the Gupta household where he knew she would be treated kindly.
Pratik, like all young men his age, out of adolescence and coasting into adulthood, had raging hormones, not entirely assuaged by masturbation and the hurried, in-the-dark, rare groping with females from his circle of friends and acquaintances. He was attracted by Reena's dark and simple good looks, her tight body and firm curves, none of which were completely masked by the old saris his mother had given her to wear. She had a soft voice and smiled a lot which gave her a very merry appearance with sparkling eyes.
Pratik had had luck with a couple of other maids who had been employed earlier in his house, and had been able to get a decent fuck every once in a while from them. It had been six months since he'd last been laid and his small collection of porno had become boring now. While he thought about Reena a lot he was not too keen to do much because Ali, her father the driver was a very intimidating personality. So masturbating allowed him to maintain his cool, but barely so.
It was a balmy evening, a little after the monsoons, and the air was crisp. Pratik was studying for his college final exams a month later, and his parents had gone out to attend a wedding. Smoking a cigarette which he couldn't do while his folks were at home, he tried to make sense of the textbook on micro-economics. There was a knocking on his door and in walked Reena, looking quite agitated.
- Dada, please stop this Ramu from irritating me! He will drive me mad!
Ramu was the cook they employed, a swarthy middle aged individual who was a master at his work when he was in the mood, but usually turned out somewhat decent, edible food at most times. Home cooking zindabad!
- Why? What has he done?
- He keeps saying he will marry me and take me back to his desh. And then he wants to hug me and kiss me!
- So tell him that you're not interested! You know he's married with two kids so tell him that also!
- I've told him that, but he says he will leave his wife and marry me. I've even told my father, but Abba just laughs, and says it won't be such a bad idea, as he doesn't have money to pay my dowry in any case!