In Search of Heer

by Manjul Bajaj

Sometimes I think everything in man’s world is constructed out of the blood, sweat and tears of women. One half of our world grows louder, prouder, wealthier as the other half shrinks, swallows itself, and falls into despairing silence. The solid walls of our homes and institutions are lined, brick by brick, with the time and effort of women, in a simple exchange for giving them a place to live and food to eat. They call it marriage. It is a very advantageous system, for while servants have to be paid to do housework wives do it for free. And once the wife has been brought in, the home-fires never stop burning, the man only has to put one bun in the oven and the hearth is thereafter always kept warm and welcoming, no matter how cruelly she is treated. The compulsions of motherhood keep her committed. No iron fences or locks or armed guards are needed to keep women from escaping. No place to take a crying infant is all that it takes.