MOBILE IN BANDA

MOBILE IN BANDA

Day Two: Can Working Women Drink Water at Will? And What of Nature's Call, If the Answer's Yes?

In another part of town, Meera runs after a byte of one of the nomination filing candidates she has been chasing for many, many days now. I wait out with the female cops at the entrance of the sarkari office. I no longer own a Press Card, so the sudden eruption of the security apparatus on filing nomination day, means- wait outside. I, being the outsider but woman, get to wait, just inside the gate, with the women cops. 

Who among other things on a day long duty, have been dying to pee?

It is pure torture to see a For MEN ONLY loo right by the entrance and men periodically going to relieve themselves.

The women discuss a search of the premises in batches of two, to find a suitable spot, in what seems like a District Collectorate campus. Long after two of the older lady cops have admitted defeat and gone off in one direction to hide and pee, two of the younger women cops, cheerfully return to tell the group that there is a working loo, right at the back of the campus and that it was locked. Their relieved smiles, also indicate perhaps one broken lock. A little while later, Meera emerges from the office, I offer her water and she knowingly smiles and takes just a sip. For working female reporters in a town like Banda, drinking one full glass of water, means spending some time then, looking for a place to pee. Good middle ground wisdom is to sip a little and not quite be pee-Eveready. For all that we say, sitting in Delhi, about the number of women in journalism, one glance at the press cadre present to take bytes on filing nomination day here, it is 99.9 per cent male, save Meera.