When I was a little girl, my parents used to give me an allowance
of 10 rupees. It was actually fixed per day, but every afternoon when I came
back from school, I would put that unused 10 rupee note carefully on my desk, in
case I needed to spend it the next day. We were far from poor, but my parents
taught me early on the importance and value of having money. 10 rupees in those
times was quite a lot (according to me). I wasn't stingy, but I was happy with
whatever lunch I got from home, and only once a week I would indulge in getting
something (Candy or a drink) from the school canteen. So, basically, 10 rupees
were enough to last a week. My story goes like this:
I have a very clear memory of walking one evening to a
nearby general store with my mother. After she had bought all the items on her
list, she asked me if I wanted anything. My head could reach barely above the
counter, but I scanned the candy and chocolate jars carefully. I settled on a
big Mars bar, the biggest I had seen yet. There was another child right next to
me on the counter, looking greedily at where my finger was pointing. This child
was a little beggar girl, probably the daughter of a local maidservant or
maasi; she was wearing old clothes, and a rag as a shawl on her head. She was
older than me and a bit taller. I remember her yellow bleached hair peeking
from beneath the rag shawl, and her greedy look as she too stared at the big
Mars candy bar.
My mother asked the price casually. Rs 20 was the answer. I
turned suddenly towards her and I said I didn't want it. I chose a smaller
candy bar for Rs 10 that I used to buy often. “I want this one, Ammi”. Rs. 20
was too much to spend on a candy bar, I thought in my childish brain. ‘Ammi
gets so many other important things for the kitchen in that amount. I could buy
a book in that much money, why just a big candy bar?’ I thought.
My mother asked me if
I was sure, and she got me the smaller candy. As we picked up our shopping bags
and turned to leave the counter, the little beggar child demanded that big Mars
bar from the counter person. She quickly took out two 10 rupee notes from
somewhere in her shawl, and grabbed the big bar. She gave me a look of pure
superiority as she walked out of the store ahead of us.
This incident is marked vividly in my memory. It has changed
the way I view the lifestyle of our ‘poor’.
The superiority/inferiority complex. One and the a same thing?
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