Kulwinder Kaur, 38, of Pathan Nangal village in Amritsar district of Punjab, talks about her life after losing her husband – in her own words.
I was married at a very young age. And you’ll never be able to guess why.
A Mazhabi Sikh – a Dalit like us – and an upper caste Jat girl grew close. The upper caste people didn’t take it well.
The boy was my brother’s close friend. So my parents were afraid that the villagers may drag me into it.
I must have been in Class VII. I was pulled out of school and was married off. I had not even started menstruating.
My husband was a truck driver. He was a nice man. He often used to help me with the household chores since it was all new for me then.
I had my first child when I was 17. She was born premature and we lost her. I had two girls and a boy in quick succession.
Once I had to take my sick toddler son to the doctor.
When I returned, I saw my husband lying unconscious, frothing. He was no more. I don’t really know what happened. Had he eaten something wrong? I don’t know.
I still hadn’t recovered from the shock of my husband’s death, and his family started blaming me for his death. They accused me of poisoning his food.
Seeing me disturbed, my mother and brother took me and my children home. For the next ten years we survived on my father’s army pension of some Rs 10,000. My brother, a mason, had his own family of four to look after.
Though my heart wasn’t in living in my parents’ home, we had to then.
We returned to my husband’s place in Pathan Nangal in 2018. It was in ruins. It’s still in shambles. The cot is propped up on bricks. We managed to plaster some walls before my eldest daughter’s marriage two years ago.
I do all sorts of jobs including MGNREGA work to run my home. For picking a mann (around 40 kg) of peas I get Rs 120. Working as a domestic help for upper caste farmers gets me Rs 500 a month.
I get a widow’s pension of Rs 1,500 from the government. But it isn’t enough.
Once when I was asleep the ceiling fan fell on me. I still struggle to sleep when it pains. The doctor said it’s affected my liver. It hurts if I do any back breaking work.
I collect firewood near the fields since the cost of living is on the rise while our earnings are less. A cooking gas cylinder here costs Rs 1,130. On the black market, it costs Rs 1,200.
Even the cow dung cakes we buy from the upper caste people cost more now. Three years ago, we would get 20 cow dung cakes for Rs 10. The following year, we got 10 dung cakes for Rs 10. Now, they sell 10 for Rs 20.
I made this stove by myself. But it gets difficult to cook when it rains, as it’s outside. During winters, we keep the embers from this stove in a steel tub inside the house to keep ourselves warm.
What keeps me going is my faith in Guru Ram Das (fourth Sikh Guru). We are able to eat today as he has blessed us. Now I only pray that one day my son becomes capable of running our home.
Sanskriti Talwar is an independent journalist who writes about gender, human rights and sustainability. She is Rural Media Fellow 2022 at Youth Hub, Village Square.
