Two Kolkata Wives Teach Me About Responsibility

In Kolkata, I met and dialogued with Subhra Sarkar and Mausumi Chatterjee, two university-educated women in their late 30s/early 40s who lived middle class lives with their husbands and children. Although Subhra did have a job as a teacher while a college student, she stopped working immediately upon marrying and having children. Mausumi, on the other hand, continues to work as a teacher even after 12 years of marriage and an 11 year old son. When I think about what I found most interesting about my chat with both of them, I keep coming back to an ideal that I, as a single and childless American woman, find both restricting and very freeing.

I learned about my duty by simply watching my mother when I was a little girl.

Both women used this word, “duty,” several times throughout our conversation. Subhra and Mausumi were clear from young girls that they were to be mothers, first and foremost. To be wives was obviously a prerequisite for motherhood, but Subhra, specifically, articulated her most cherished duty when she mentioned, “Had I not had children, my life would have been meaningless.” She was happy enough about being a new bride, but it was when she conceived her first child that the real bliss began. As a matter of fact, she made no qualms about quitting her job as soon as she married because she had too many responsibilities at home to take on more at a job outside her home.

Mausumi chuckled and looked bewildered when I asked her to pretend she had not had Ritwick, her adorable, funny 11 year old son. “A childless marriage?” She shook her head and made an expression I make when a group of friends with whom I have had dinner ask me to figure out the tip. I have had this “how would your life differ if you didn’t have children” talk with American women on more than one occasion. They all pretty much have the same response. They usually say something to the effect of: I really can’t imagine my life without my baby. I was happy before her birth, but yeah…I don’t know what my life would be like if she never came along.” What struck me about this same conversation with Mausumi, though, was there was no way to have it. My American friends can’t imagine their lives without their children, but they at least can entertain the thought of the possibility of not having had them. Mausumi seemed not to even grasp that such a thought could exist. “I guess if I couldn’t have children,” she pondered, “I’d just have to make a compromise with God, sort of.” Even this was said with hesitation and a sense of uncertainty.

Indian women are not alone in their desire to give birth. Wanting to procreate is one of those commonalities among humans that reminds us how boringly similar we are; we all want at least THAT. What I find interesting about Subhra and Mausumi, though, is the pressure (if it can be called that) to be a mother does not seem to come from an external source. I did not get the sense that when their mothers modeled “duty,” they harassed them about having children as soon as they got married and then found every opportunity to remind them of this duty. The impression I got was that the pressure for motherhood was mostly internal. It was so internal, that unlike many American women I know, Subhra and Mausumi were not conscious of it. They did not question when and under what circumstances they were going to be mothers.

They were women. They would have children. It was what women did. Their duty.

Women also never competed with or compared themselves to their husbands. A woman’s duty was to make sure her husband was happy. She, of course, should speak up when she was unhappy about something, but as Mausumi explained: “He is a man; my husband. I am not above him.” It was a truth of her world which she spoke of with the same ease as she did the delicious meal she was preparing for me. “Women have to compromise more than men,” she says casually. And just like a woman’s unquestionable duty is to be a mother, there is no displeasure, no questioning of this other duty as well. For the sake of her family, she accepts that it will be she who will ultimately compromise in many of the lifestyle negotiations that marriage brings.

It floored me to listen to Mausumi speak about this very patriarchal expectation without a hint of anger or even irritation. Mausumi is a smart lady; she picked up on my disbelief pretty quickly. “Uh, it is not like this in the United States?” When I explained to her that although I have never been married, I was pretty sure my married counterparts wouldn’t quite see their duty as a wife in that way, it was Mausumi’s turn to look floored. “I think many American women would be very irate (even, DEEPLY offended) if they were told to simply accept it is always them who have to make the sacrifices,” I explained.

“But, how else do we maintain a family?” This was a rhetorical question. Mausumi was not looking for ways to Americanize her family. She sincerely didn’t see how a family could be maintained in the long term without women fulfilling this duty. “The men have to do some compromising, too,” she wanted me to understand. As a way to highlight what she meant by compromise, she shared what sometimes happens in her house when she and her husband argue.

“I am outspoken,” she smiles a devilish grin. “So, whenever me and my husband are going on and on about something, my mother in law will let it go on for a while.” She points to her husband’s mother sitting near us, watching television. Mausumi looks at her mother in law affectionately as she continues, “Eventually, she will remind me of my place. ‘You need to remember you are a woman,’ she’ll say. That is very helpful to me because sometimes I do forget.”

It has been days since I’ve had these conversations, but I am still struck by the comfort and peace of mind both Subhra and Mausumi find in following this system. I am surprised by how much sense it makes, as well. As I get older, a part of me is beginning to believe that ALL women end up making more sacrifices in their long term relationships, anyway. We western women just want to believe that we don’t or more specifically, we resent the expectation even as we willingly adhere to it. When I look at many marriages - the high profile ones and the simple ones involving regular people - I see countless wives who have given up more than their husbands for the sake of maintaining the family. Wives who end up saying: “I’ll let this go,” more often than their husbands. It was bizarrely refreshing to hear these Indian women not bother pretending that the expectation to compromise more often was anything other than a requirement of them in marriage. To hear them assert that their men were above them did not revolt me as much as I thought it would. It made me remember a time in our country when we explicitly required women to subscribe to this belief. I am not so sure that the requirement has disappeared as much as our country would like us women to believe. I think our country has decided that to actually speak these words. To say: “You are the woman; you must defer to your man” would make us feel less progressive. Remind us that, in the most crucial ways, in the deepest parts of us, we really hold the same values as parts of the world to whom we feel superior.

I must admit that I admire Subhra and Mausumi. Not so much for accepting that it is their duty to have children and to compromise in their marriages. I admire them because they actually have a sense of duty at all and they take that duty seriously. They understand that marriage goes beyond simply partnering with a man you love. It involves DUTY. It means you have a responsibility to each and every person living in your house. A responsibility that is paramount to your own individual happiness. If there is a tangible difference that I have noted in our two cultures, it is this. The belief that personal happiness should override your duty seems to be as foreign to these two women as the concept of a woman who never becomes a mother. Although I am indifferent to marriage and childless by choice, I do believe that this deep sense of responsibility is a very wise way to enter marriage and motherhood.