Young author Sai Deekshita writes a biography of her great-grandmother, an outcome of the Female Legacy Project’s Biography Writing workshop, conducted by Nivedita Louis.

How was it to be a woman in those days? This is one question that has been encompassed my mind for a long time now. While pondering on this, I realised that the best way to understand women in those days, is by learning more about our own grandmothers and great grandmothers.

One such ordinary woman who inspired me with her extraordinary way of life was my great-grandmother, or ‘Periya Paati’- Chellamal. Born in the 1920s in the town of Trivandrum into an orthodox Brahmin family, her life was nothing but different from that of others belonging to the same race. She was the first of three siblings and the eldest daughter of the entire family. Being a first child, as it is, came with humongous responsibility and being the first female child was nothing short of carrying a big bag full of wet cotton.

Despite these shortcomings, she had the privilege of having that one thing, unlike many women belonging to that time, Primary Education. Seems quite trivial in today’s context, but it carried a huge significance back then. She had a flair for mathematics and had the brain of a calculator. My grandfather remarked once about her avid mental math skills and the little math competitions that they had. “It was always Athai who used to win, Math came naturally to her”, he lovingly reminisced. However, tragedy struck her at the tender age of 12. Her father died due to a rare illness, and that left her family on the streets.

Almost immediately after her father’s death, her mother married her off to a man who looked just as fine as their son-in-law. Fine, he is, they thought. Little did they know that he was far from alright. Later, after marriage, Chellamal finds out about her husband’s illness, and the rest of her marital years pass in aiding and serving her husband. She performs her conjugal duties with utmost dedication that she almost forgets there is a life outside of cleaning and tending to her husband’s wounds and serving her in-laws.

Unfortunately, in the attempt to relieve her from one sorrow, God gives her the ultimate catastrophe that can happen to a woman back then- widowhood.

At the age of 14, she was deprived of every possible happiness. Yet she did not lose hope in life. Before she could even attain a certain level of maturity to approach life, she had witnessed the events that span over an entire lifetime of an individual. She had accepted her fate.

She continued to live with her in-laws, as that seemed like the right thing to do then. She worked at a Zamindar’s house nearby, helping them with cooking, cleaning and other household chores. Occasionally, the family was also kind enough to let her handle their finances after seeing her profound mental math skills.

Living in her in-laws’ house indeed gave her a roof to live under and three meals a day, but it also meant facing extreme indignities and being answerable for even the slightest things. “When we were living in Trivandrum, I once went to a relative’s place. There I saw their daughter-in-law, who had been widowed. But at the age of 10, I did not know that a pale white saree and a shaved head meant widowhood. I found her very strange as she did not sit with us nor eat with us. And nobody seemed to bother her apparent impoliteness either. It felt like they wanted her to behave that way, to be distant from the family, yet close enough to do the chores. Little did I know then that I were to face the same fate in two years, except the tonsured head, thanks to your father”- These are the words of my Periya Paati, which she had remorsefully told my Grandmother.

Her brother had been her pillar of support throughout. Be it standing against the tonsuring of her head or taking her back to their own house when she was 19, her brother had been resolute in helping his sister in whatever way he could.

Maybe because of facing such cruelties at such a young age and having sacrificed her personal desires in consideration of her family situation, she decided to spend the rest of her life ensuring that the other children of her family did not undergo the same things that she had to.

From her personal experiences and whatever limited education she had, she helped her family members get the opportunities that she never got. Everybody in the family called her Bhishma (a character from the Mahabharata). She was the primary decision maker in every important family situation, her experiential wisdom benefiting the needs of others. She handled the finances of the family and, with a meagre income, was able to manage a family of 8. Nobody taught her budgeting, but she trained herself, seizing every opportunity to learn something new. She encouraged the daughters of the family to take up jobs after marriage and taught them to be financially independent.

On the other side, her life may seem nothing special. But this was the life of the majority of women back then.

Women like my great grandmother who were deprived of support and opportunity are in every family. They remain within the shadows of their family, selflessly living for them, having sacrificed their personal desires. They hope to give their children the freedom of choice which they were never given. And unfortunately their lives hang on a thread of ‘what ifs’.

About the author

Sai Deekshita is a 17-year-old who has recently completed her 12th grade and dreams of becoming a lawyer. She enjoys writing and public speaking, and has taken part in many competitions, winning a few along the way. She has been learning Bharatanatyam since the age of 8 and has a strong love for music and the arts. Deekshita is also very interested in the real history of India and enjoys learning about the people and events that helped shape the country. Passionate, expressive, and curious, she looks forward to using her skills to make a positive difference in the future.