"I was working as a translator then.
My Indian boss decided to get married.
He was a good groom: a rich family, a good education, his own business, and besides, he was handsome. At least, that was the way it was considered in Calcutta. The parents found a bride to match – and she is good, and brought up correctly.
- There is a conversation, - the boss told me one morning when I came to work, - There is such a thing. Sangita wants to come to Moscow.
"Fine," I replied, "I don't see a problem.
- There is a problem, and it's in you.
The boss's explanations seemed absolutely amazing to me.
"You see, Sangeeta really wants to meet you.
- I don't really understand what's interesting about it, but if he wants to...
"But she wants to talk to you."
- Again, I don't see a problem.
"She'll question you.
- I have nothing to hide.
"That's where you're wrong. You don't have to tell her you're working.
"Wait a minute," I rejoiced, "now I understand why she wants to see me so much. I would also be interested to see a woman who comes to my husband just like that and sits with him from 9 to 18.00 every day for no reason.
-
Yes, - the boss pondered, - It's kind of awkward. Good. Then tell her you're a widow.
-
Here's another one! - I was indignant, - Why on earth am I with a living husband.
-
But you understand, a woman can't work JUST like THAT. If she's a widow, that's fine. Or, for example, if her family kicked her out for debauchery.
-
That's just not enough!
-
Then I do not know what will happen! – the boss gave up.
Actually, there was nothing special.
Sangita (a really unearthly beauty girl) came from India, and took a detailed interview with me. During the interview, it turned out that I am married, married against the will of my parents, and now I live with my husband and child separately from his dad and mom, I earn my own bread, together with my husband I make decisions about the life of our family, I cope with their consequences myself, and no one gives me gold and outfits, and my perspective in this sense is very vague. Yes, and I cook and clean in the family, too.
The kind girl listened to my story with tears in her eyes, hugged me and called me "poor thing". She told her husband that it was INHUMANE to force a woman to work for money, cook, wash, and make decisions about her life herself.
And the absence of gold and new saris is simply impossible to call anything but an insult.
After the departure of Sangita, I received a prize for the proper upbringing of the boss's young wife. The girl told her relatives and friends for a long time how terrible the fate of a woman in the modern world is..."
