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Writer's pictureEk Prayaas

The Empty Pitchers by Bhawana Yadav

Janaki faintly remembers the last time she spoke to her mother. The day she got married. She can’t read so she doesn’t know how long it’s been. Her father said no one marries a woman who can read. The voice of her mother still rings in her head, the picture a little foggy but she remembers it all, the wrinkled face of her mother smiling softly at her, eyes filled with unshed tears, her dainty hands moving steadily through her hair as she tells her,



“Janaki, my child, always remember, we women are like an earthen pot. Like an empty pitcher. We are heated in the fire so that we can be strong. And when the time comes, you can take responsibility. Responsibility to quench the thirst of your family. That's our only job.”


“JANAKI!” The loud echo of her husband pulled her out of the memories of her mother.


The reality hit her hard. She had forgotten she was making breakfast for her family. Swiftly she puts down the pot of curry from the fire to prevent it from burning, or god knows what her Sasu-Maa would have done to her.


“JANAKI! Where are you, useless woman!” Her husband’s voice boomed across their small mud house.


“Coming!” she yelled, as fast as her swollen feet allowed she sprinted towards the voice of her husband. She is around 5 months pregnant as the village midwife says. She passed her Sasu-Maa, who was burning a small Diya in front of the picture of her late father-in-law. Babuji passed away a few years back due to lung cancer. They didn’t have the money for his medication.


Hurriedly, through carefully to not get hurt she made her way to the back of the house from where her husband was calling her. She entered the backyard stumbling on her steps and saw her husband with his arms crossed, tapping his right foot rapidly. His tanned face from doing labor in the brick factory squinted in anger. Taking a deep breath, she went where he was standing and with a soft hesitant voice called him. Like lightning he raised his right hand and slapped her across her cheek, successfully throwing her on the ground.


“What’s this!? Empty buckets!? Why is there no water for me to bathe in? How am I supposed to go to work now? Why do you always forget to bring water?” he started shouting at her. She slowly got up on her feet, her tear-filled eyes fixed on the ground. She pressed her right hand to the stinging cheek to soothe the pain a little.


Gulping the lump in her throat she replies, “ But I- I filled all the buckets early this morning. Amma Ji bathed before you-”


“Are you blaming my poor mother for your heedless act!?” A wave of terror went down Janaki’s spine. Her husband is very violent. He gets angry very easily and she is always on the receiving end. She tries to do everything right to not make her angry but somehow it always fails.

“No- no that’s not-” He cut her mid-sentence. His voice raised again, “Don’t talk back to me, you insolent woman! And go fetch me water from the well. If I get late for my work because of you, pregnant or not, you will bear the consequences!”


Nodding her head a few times, she went and picked up two buckets in each hand and ran away towards the well outside of the village. Crossing high palm trees, dried bushes, she reaches the only source of water in the village. The well was here way before she came here to the village. When she came here after marriage she had no idea how to use a well because back at her home there was no well in her village, they were blessed with a big river flowing through the village. So it took her some time to learn and after a couple of broken pitchers and some bruises from her husband she knew what to do. Now she has to go fetch water a dozen times a day.


The sun was slowly rising the horizon. The well was crowded with ladies fetching water for their families, young girls with small pots by their feet waiting in line for their turn, and an old lady giving baths to her grandson. Janaki is familiar with the faces but she doesn’t know anyone’s names. Her husband has restricted her from making acquaintances with any of the fellow villagers. In the early stages of her married life, she never understood why her husband made her isolated like that and she made the mistake of questioning him. That night was the first time he raised his hand on her, for questioning him and after that, it became a daily thing. Later her husband would hit her even for the smallest things, and her mother-in-law never said anything.


Shaking her head to get rid of the bad memories she thinks, ‘ He hit me because I questioned him. Amma says a wise woman never questions her husband. She does whatever he wants. Stands wherever he says. Eat after he has eaten. Wears whatever he likes. Husbands know what’s right and wrong.


But like always one question arises in her mind, ‘Why and until when?’


A soft hand lands on her arm. Following the little arm, Janaki’s dull brown eyes meet the soft warm eyes of a young girl. Janaki has seen her around here many times, they have shared a smile or two but not more than that. The young girl smiled at her and with a soft glance at her growing belly, said, “Kaki, you can fetch water before me.” Janaki smiles gratefully at her, thanking her she quickly fills her buckets and smiling once again at the young girl she takes her to leave. Fully knowing what her husband would do if she gets home late. Although on her way home she kept thinking, how beautiful the young girl is, from her warm honey eyes, her long braided black hairs, and her pretty smile. How beautiful it would be to be a mother of a girl so sweet. Janaki couldn’t help but wish about one day having a girl just as beautiful as that young girl as her daughter. This thought made a small smile appear on her face.


She quickly reaches home and places the buckets in the little bathroom for her husband. Her husband gives her a hateful stare but keeps quiet and goes to take a bath telling her to prepare his breakfast before he gets ready for work. She rushes to the small kitchen and starts making roti.


Soon she has made enough roti for all three of them, packed the lunch for her husband, and is waiting patiently for her husband and Sasu-maa to come and eat. Not long after, they come and sit down to eat. Wordlessly they both eat and soon it’s time for her husband to leave for his work. Just as he was leaving he turns around and calls Janaki and says, “I met Dai-maa yesterday, she said she will come to check up on you this evening. I will try to come home early tonight.”


Janaki gives him a little nod and watches her husband leave for his work until he is out of her sight. Janaki gets back on her house chores and before she knows it it’s evening, and Dai-maa has arrived. Dai-maa feels around her belly and asks her a few questions, after a while, she lets out a small gasp. “What-what happened?” Janaki asks, alarmed. Dai-maa doesn’t say anything but leaves the room. Janaki quickly fixes her clothes and follows her.


Outside of their little house, her husband and Sasu-maa are waiting for them. Seeing Dai-maa coming out of the house looking so distressed, her husband rushes to her. Janaki sees as his husband asks Dai-maa if there’s something wrong with his child. Janaki feels a rush of nervousness in her body. Taking a deep breath Dai-maa utters two words that stop the world of Janaki, “It’s a girl.”


Janaki knew what that meant. Janaki got the inkling of what would happen now. She protectively puts her hands around her belly, trying to protect her child from any harm. Her husband’s furious eyes meet her scared ones, forcing her to take a few steps back. Her husband charged towards her with rage burning inside his two eyes.


That night her husband hurt her so badly she didn’t wake up the next day. All that was left behind was her voice echoing around the whole village, screaming, “What is my fault? What is my fault in this?”


Janaki is gone. And went with her, her dream of having a beautiful girl as a daughter. But she was glad. Glad that her daughter won’t have to suffer what she went through. Glad her daughter is safe now.


Left behind are the empty pitchers waiting by the well for their owners to come and fill them up.



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Yui Yui
Yui Yui
Aug 29, 2021

Beautiful!❤️

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