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Srithapa was scared to face the housing society board members. The decision of where she was going to stay for the next three years was in their hands. This was the third time this was happening to her, to be sitting in front of a biased and judgemental group of people, who thought that "outsiders" should not be allowed to stay with them. Exactly what they meant by "outsiders" she did not comprehend.
She had the typical Mongolian looks, squinty, dove-shaped eyes, smooth alabaster skin, straight, dark hair and a medium build. Maybe that is what threw off most people since they would immediately presume her to be 'Chin-ki'. They did not know, of course, that she came from Gangtok, just two bus rides away from Kolkata, her current choice of city.
Like most girls her age, Srithapa too had decided to pursue her education further in a different city. Though her town was picturesque and attracted lots of tourists, she had chosen to travel to this sleepy yet vibrant city, in hopes of better opportunities and lifestyle. She had never imagined, of course, the troubles that would lie before her.
Through a friend, she had made arrangements to stay for a few days, but she knew she had to find her accommodation soon. But that was easier said than done. Everywhere she went, from college to job hunting, whispers would follow her.
"Where is she from?"
"Look at how she's dressed."
''Can she see properly?"
"She must be so easy to get."
The looks were much worse than the whispers. Initially, people looked away when she spotted them staring, but then it became more and more pointed. The women were mostly jealous of her beauty and how it attracted the male gaze, while the men were mainly lecherous.
Most of her classmates never talked to her, thinking she was a foreign entity to be looked at from afar. She conversed in Nepali with her other friends, and that attracted even more attention. People would never be amazed at someone if they spoke in Punjabi, Gujarati or even Malayalam, but her language was considered the weird one. After much deliberation and theory-tossing in their heads, the curious ones would just ask her.
"Why is your language so different?"
"Do you have any relatives in China?"
"Is it true that you will eat just about anything?"
And on and on and on.
It took her a long time to clear these offensive doubts, but they were much gentler than what some bigots would address her as.
"Look at her, Chini-mini, chow-chow."
"Hey babe, nice skirt you're wearing. Should I help you take them off?"
"Hey look, a rat, don't you dare eat it!"
"Wanna come to taste my momos?"
In this kind of environment, there were very few opportunities for her to work. It was either a parlour woman or a waitress at a so-called "Chinese" restaurant, so she chose the former. The ladies that frequented there were nice to her, but only because they thought she came from somewhere far and had to work to support herself.
The most difficult thing to crack, then, was the housing problem. She did not want to stay anywhere as a paying guest, but there was no other choice. She and her friend changed many places around the year, but could not find any abode comfortable for them. She wished to rent out her flat, but a young, single North-Eastern girl would not get any space anywhere. They had to endure the bad food and smelly houses for a long time, almost three years long, but she had had enough.
She had graduated with passable marks and had started interning at a news company, but housing had become a real problem for her. Sometimes she approached brokers, sometimes the owners themselves, but the doors were always shut in her face. Residential and apartment buildings were worse because a 'single, working, un-Indian, female' could not be accepted. The first two interviews rejected her because they thought that it was better to accept only families, but left a large chunk of things unsaid. She knew what they were thinking,
"She speaks so funnily."
"She wears such revealing clothes, what effect will she have on our children."
"Her people probably drink and party a lot, it will not be safe for the rest of us."
"What if she's sent by the Chinese to spy on us?"
"She's not even married, she'll bring a lot of boys home."
She knew that the same racist, sexist, and prejudiced thoughts were running through the minds of this group of people before her, just like they had for the past three years. Through their whispers, she could hear the echo of the same jabs and insults that had been hurled at her just because she looked a certain way. She felt that she was going to be rejected this time too, but she was prepared. Before she began her interview, she stood facing the members and said,
"Respected members of the board, I know that you have a lot of questions for me, so let me clarify some of your doubts before you start.
Number one: My name is Srithapa.
Two: I can see everything very clearly.
Three: I am from Gangtok, which is much closer to you than Bihar, where most of you are from.
Four: I speak Nepali, not Chinese, which is why I have an accent.
Five: I will wear what I want to wear, regardless of your opinion.
Six: I am a vegetarian, so I do not consume any exotic animals.
Seven: I have a career, and I am not looking to get married anytime soon
Eight: I cannot promise you that I will not come late, or not invite my friends, or not indulge in the occasional drink or two. But what I can promise you is that I will try to be as responsible as I can, keep my space clean, and not cause any nuisance to any of you."
The stunned looks on the faces of the members informed her that she had hit the mark. They peeked at each other and understood their guilt, then hung their head in shame. They asked her to wait outside while they deliberated, but after only ten minutes, she had the keys to her first house on that day. She knew it was a small victory, but at least there was hope.
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