No Dogs, No Maids

India and her Indians can claim that this is a modern democracy, and that caste no longer matters, but underneath the surface, it is still a backwards, mean place in quiet ways.

A woman is already in the elevator, has pushed the button for her floor, and just before the door closes, a young woman of 16 or 17 joins her. They are both Indian, both female. The building security guard, hardly much older than the girl, has seen her get in the elevator and he follows and stops the sliding door from closing. The older woman, the one who got in the elevator first, is telling the girl to get out, and the security guard seconds this decision.

The girl is told to take the elevator opposite. It has an open-and-shut gate that makes a racket when you close it, and that you can catch your fingers in if you're not careful. It is the elevator that maids and dogs can ride in. The other elevator, the nicer, shinier, quieter one, is for "For members and guests ONLY," as a small sign above the door indicates.



What is this? New Orleans in the 60s? The girl, a maid, lives with a family on the 8th floor. The woman is just a snit who lives in this building and thinks that she is better than the people who serve her breakfast and take care of her children. This is simple caste-basted segregation.

Indians deny that the caste system persists, and yet, can't even condescend to ride in the same elevator or call their their maid by her first name; she is instead often called what she is, bai , Hindi for maid. And the security guard, likely of similar stature and class as the maid, reinforces the rule, just doing what he's been told. They, the "master" and the guard, are separately, and quite desperately, holding on to their place in society through small, pointed, dirty ways.