There’s a story to every woman. A story that talks about her strength and inspires or one that makes you empathise, a story that brings you to tears or one that makes you smile. There’s always a story.

My maid is all of 32, and a mother to 3 children, the eldest of whom is 16. Time and rigours of daily life has taken a toll on her body that she looks so much older than her age. She works despite those wretched  cramps because she is worried she would lose her job, that a house less to work in would throw the monthly calculation off balance. So many mouths to feed, school fees to pay, rent for the cub hole. There’s never a moment’s rest since as long as she can remember. And yet she always greets us with a smile and humours us with her silly ways. Mom tries to slow her down with an offer for a cup of tea, but she mostly refuses as she is always in such a hurry. Some days though she gives in and catches her breath and amuses her with some of her funny stories.

One day she told my mother she is so worried and confused. Her daughter got her periods for the first time and she knows not what to do. Mom and I chided her for being worried. It’s a matter of joy and we’d cook something sweet for the occasion in our household we tell her. But her fears are not baseless. A girl reaching puberty means she has to be extra watchful from now on since those shanties are not really a safe place for a young girl. She worries  for her daughter’s safety. We never thought about this

One event invokes different reactions in different houses, for one it is a step towards adulthood, reason enough for celebration and for another it’s a reason to be cautious and worried.

My baby’s nanny is 36. And she’s a grandmother already to a 2 year old. How young was she when she got married? You do the math. She lost her husband some years ago when her 3 children were still young. She ignored people telling her what to do and stayed put in the city to work and run the show on her own. Her younger daughter, a shy and pretty girl fares top grades in school. She dismisses suitors as she wants to keep studying further and get a good job. She will get her mother out of the tiny place they live in, she promises her. Her mom tells me she won’t give in this time to her relatives’ advice of getting this one married off, like her elder one who was sent off at 15.

So amongst them they keep the dream alive. The hope keeps them going. She hopes she can buy a small patch of land and build her own house someday, well literally build on her own, since she was married to a mason and they would work together she’s well acquainted with the kind of bricks to use, the mortar and the works. Their humble backgrounds are no deterrent.

My mother was 19 when she left her village to look for work in the city. She could barely speak English and had to brave abusive language from her employer at that time for mistakes in her typing. Her father would write to her to quit and return home but she put up with since quitting meant going back to square one, to scarcity of resources. She bagged a government job, an envious role in those times, read up on literature, learnt English well enough to teach her kids the magic in those words. I remember her helping with our studies and when we’d hit the bed she’d finally take out her books. She graduated when we were in school. In the town we lived in, she was the first woman who rode a scooter to work, to drop her kids to dance and music classes, to badminton classes, to meet relatives, to picnics. She started playing badminton, travelled to cities for tournaments representing her office and consistently won the top prize till as long as she played, close to retirement. She singlehandedly took on so many responsibilities that writing about them alone would need another post. She hopes now to retire and travel once outside the country. She is unstoppable.

My sister has served as an officer in the armed forces. The battles she faced belonged to a different genre. She's never had it easy and has braved many odds and yet her smile can light up a room. She is as tough as tough can get.

These woman all have a story of their own. Some make you want to idolize them, some make you want to hug and comfort them and some make you want to join in, in their celebration of life.