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basantee kee basant panchamee

 This pain was years old. It was neither mine nor yours. It was everyone's. It was every day. It was from every village. It was from every city. No - no, it's a mistake. Maybe not of the village, only of the city. The bigger the city, the greater the sorrow. It was not that no one had ever paid attention to this misery. People also paid attention, and also looked for ways to avoid it. Even people would write on it, say poetry on it, even make a film on it. The film would have gone on, the poem would have become a hit, the book would have been highly appreciated, but the misery would have remained in its place. This was the sorrow of the maid who worked in the house. In the villages, in every house, the owner of the house herself used to do the chopping, utensils, brooms and sweeping, but in the city every house needed a maid with one or the other work. There was a reason for this too. The reason was that in the cities, girls and women themselves used to go to work outside the house. Some in office, some in college, some in company, some in business. And when the woman goes out of the house and helps in the earning of the household, then she will definitely need a domestic help in the household chores. 

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