In Servants of India, R.K. Laxman profiles ten hilariously idiosyncratic people, who are among the countless men and women who run the lives of the middle class in India. The tales are put together by Ganesh, a freelance journalist trying to write a feature article on servants he has known. As his chronicle progresses, what emerges is a richly embellished narrative starring unforgettable characters. There is Swami, the cook, who finds his true vocation as a godman; Kumar, who deserts his household duties to pursue his tinsel-town dreams; Anthony, the driver, who makes money on the side by giving lifts to strangers; the maid Shanti, whose lift is thrown into turmoil by the neighbour's servant who is besotted with her; and Ramaswami, a trusted retainer who reappears mysteriously, much to the consternation of his employer, long after he has been presumed drowned. Marked by Laxman's trademark wit, and including pencil sketches drawn especially for this edition, Servants of India is a delightful read.

We eat first, they later, often out of food portioned out for them; we live in the front, they in the back; we sit on chairs and they on the floor; we drink from glasses and ceramic plates and they from ones made of steel set aside for them; we call them by their names, and they address us by titles: sir/ma'am, sahib/memsahib... Every year, thousands of poor, illiterate, unskilled women flock to Delhi from villages across the country to work as domestic help. This is how Fullin from Athgama in rural Jharkhand, Lovely from a tiny settlement in Malda, Golbanu bibi from Doparia, Mae from Kokrajhar and a Santhali girl from Annabiri, in the heart of Maoist country-find themselves in the nation's most powerful city, working for its richest people. This is how tycoons and refugees, politicians and orphans-India's one per cent and her 99 per cent-rub shoulders every day, under the same roof. In the not so distant past, everyone's place- whether maid, ayah or cook, sahib or memsahib- was well understood. There were clear rules for negotiating (and maintaining) the vast chasm between the two sides. Today, it's a little different. There are housekeepers who are part of the middle class who ensure their children join white-collar India. There are teenage girls brought to the city by 'aunts' and 'uncles' to serve as '24-hour' help, who find themselves virtually, and sometimes literally, caged. There are employers who wrestle with the guilt of spending more on an Italian meal in a fancy hotel than on those who clean their homes- and other employers who insist 'these people' are all thieves. With in-depth reporting in the villages from where women make their way to upper-class homes in Delhi and Gurgaon, courtrooms where the worst allegations of abuse get an airing, and homes up and down the class ladder, Maid in India is an illuminating and sobering account of the complex and troubling relations between the help and those they serve.

Reversing his parents immigrant path, a young writer returns to India and discovers an old country making itself new. Anand Giridharadas sensed something was afoot as his plane prepared to land in Bombay. An elderly passenger looked at him and said, Were all trying to go that way, pointing to the rear. You, youre going this way. Giridharadas was...

Domestic servitude blurs the divide between family and work, affection and duty, the home and the world. In Cultures of Servitude, Raka Ray and Seemin Qayum offer an ethnographic account of domestic life and servitude in contemporary Kolkata, India, with a concluding comparison with New York City. Focused on employers as well as servants, men as well as women, across multiple generations, they examine the practices and meaning of servitude around the home and in the public sphere. This book shifts the conversations surrounding domestic service away from an emphasis on the crisis of transnational care work to one about the constitution of class. It reveals how employers position themselves as middle and upper classes through evolving methods of servant and home management, even as servants grapple with the challenges of class and cultural distinction embedded in relations of domination and inequality.

Description In the decades following 1947, as the tallest national leaders were building a new India, they were supported by a band of idealistic civil servants fiercely committed to the country's Constitution and its people. Among these remarkable officers was Bhairab Datt Pande, a young man from the Himalayan district of Kumaon, who joined the Indian Civil Service in 1939. Over almost forty years as civil servant, and later as governor, he played an important role in the country's administration, and interacted with leaders like Indira Gandhi (as cabinet secretary during the Emergency), Morarji Desai and Jyoti Basu. His memoir- which, respecting his wish, is being published posthumously-is a fascinating record of his own life and that of India in the half century after Independence. Pande chronicles several landmark events and initiatives that he either participated in or witnessed. He helped increase food-grain allotment to the state as food commissioner of Bihar in the early 1950s and drew up a new famine code as land reforms commissioner. His work in the Community Development programme some years later still has important lessons for today's Panchayati Raj institutions. After retirement, he was governor of West Bengal during the resurgence of Naxalism in the early 1980s, and of Punjab in 1983- 84-a tragic and turbulent year in the history of the state and the nation. Pande chose to resign as governor rather than carry out unconstitutional orders. His compelling narration of the behind-the-scenes events and negotiations leading up to the Anandpur Sahib Resolution and Operation Bluestar is of great value. Engaging and inspiring in equal measure, this memoir is both a fascinating record of an extraordinary life and an important and revealing historical document.

‘Exemplary’ Ravish Kumar 'A wonderful selection’ Rana Safvi For generations, domestic servants in India have been subjected to neglect, apathy and cruelty. Though they are known nowadays as the domestic ‘help’, ‘aid’ or ‘staff’, often merely to meet the requirements of political correctness, their condition remains unchanged for the most part as the country’s privileged classes have failed to truly address the most pervasive inequalities in their households. In Lesser Lives, Nitin Sinha and Prabhat Kumar collect short fiction from the Hindi heartland that turns the gaze onto these continuing disparities. The eleven stories in the book, including Premchand’s ‘Maidservant’, Mahadevi Varma’s ‘Rama’, Saadat Hasan Manto’s ‘Blouse’, Amarkant’s ‘Bahadur’ and Shekhar Joshi’s ‘Dajyu’, offer both timeless classics and little-known literary gems, some of which have never been published in translation before.