The Space Between Us

“This is what Sera appreciates most about Bhima—this unspoken language, this intimacy that has developed between them over the years. […] Truth be told, she does not want […] the shadow of Maya’s unfortunate circumstances to fall over the happiness of Dinaz’s pregnancy.”

This passage reflects the paradoxical nature of Sera and Bhima’s relationship—they are the closest of confidants to each other, and yet an undeniable gulf exists between them, the least of which is their employer-employee relationship. Sera’s internal feelings toward Bhima cannot remain consistent, at once pitying her friend and worrying about her own daughter’s joy being overshadowed by the very real exploitation of a poor working-class girl. 

“Sometimes she can’t figure Serabai out. One the one hand, it makes her flush with pride when Serabai calls her ‘my Bhima’ and talks about her proprietarily. On the other hand, she always seems to be doing things that undercut Bhima’s interests.”

Bhima feels a flash of irritation at Sera’s refusal of Viraf’s offer to buy a dishwasher for the house. Bhima’s reflection here is an accurate portrayal of Sera’s attitude toward Bhima—the affection that Sera showers on Bhima stems less from a place of human relationship and more from a sense of ownership she feels over Bhima. Their relationship is truly “proprietary”; Bhima carries out a specific set of tasks in Sera’s household, and Sera cannot always see her as a human being beyond this.

“You tell all your friends that Bhima is like a family member, that you couldn’t live without her […] And yet she’s not good enough to sit at the table with us. And you and Daddy are always talking about those high-caste Hindus burning Harijans and how wrong that is. But in your own house, you have these caste differences, too.”

Dinaz’s observations reflect how the hierarchies of Hinduism have been adopted even by non-Hindu communities in India, by way of sociocultural osmosis to conform to the status quo. Caste has woven itself into every corner of Indian society, irrespective of religion, and this passage underlines the theme of India’s Social Fabric of Class, Caste, Gender, and Religion.

“She’s been with me a long time, you know. Not as long as your Bhima, of course. That is truly exceptional, I have to say. No wonder you treat her like a family member. […] I always say, ‘Sera will be rewarded in heaven for the way she treats that Bhima.’”

Sera is often both lauded and ridiculed by her peers for how “well” she treats her domestic workers. Both reactions reflect the prevalent attitudes toward domestic workers that see them as less-than their employers—treating them well is either ridiculous, because domestic workers need to be kept at a distance, or it is praiseworthy, as the employer is seen as being magnanimous toward a “lesser being,” fueling a savior-complex. In either circumstance, the humanity of the domestic worker is not placed on the same level as their employer.

“I’ll go, […] I just have one condition—I want Serabai to go to the hospital with me instead of you.”

Maya’s request is an act of quiet rebellion—she is seeking to tie Sera and her family to the destruction of a child that was illegitimately fathered by one of their own. Sera’s acquiescence to the request symbolically ties the Dubash family to covering the tracks of their own crime.

“Although she knows that her son-in-law means well, that he has Bhima’s interests at heart, something inside Sera bristles at Viraf’s proprietarial use of we, and the casual way in which he mentions the abortion. Just like a man, she thinks.”

Viraf is able to escape with publicly trying to cover his crimes, because Sera attributes his commandeering attitude to his gender. The fact that Viraf is the father of the child, only additionally serves to underline the theme of Misogyny and Abuse in Relationships. Sera’s unexpected reaction serves to foreshadow Viraf’s involvement in Maya’s pregnancy. Sera’s blanket-statement about men highlights the structural ways in which the men of the narrative behave similarly in their exploitation of women.

“She blinks her eyes and forces herself back to the present. She is ashamed of her envy at Dinaz and Viraf’s good fortune.”

Bhima’s response is an indication of how deeply devoted and obligated to Sera and her family she feels, a perspective that leaves her unaware of the harm they carry out on her own family.

“Sera recoiled. Bhima had never touched her before. She tried to muster some resistance but found that she couldn’t come up with one good reason for why Bhima’s hands should not touch her. […] She felt life beginning to stir in her veins and couldn’t tell if this new, welcome feeing was from the oil or the simple comfort of having another human being touch her in friendliness and caring.”

Sera’s reaction to Bhima’s touch is an internalized attitude of revulsion toward someone belonging to a lower class or caste, rooted in ideas associated with impurity. Sera consistently feels such instinctual responses toward Bhima, even though she cannot rationally justify these responses as anything other than prejudice. The passage points to the theme of India’s Social Fabric of Class, Case, Gender, and Religion.

“The generosity of the poor, Sera marveled to herself. It puts us middle-class people to shame. They should hate our guts, really. Instead, they treat us like royalty.”

Sera’s reflection on the generosity of the people there accurately captures the difference in attitudes between the wealthy and the impoverished in India—the impoverished see the former as imbued with a powerful aura, able to command respect bordering on worship. Sera’s assumption that the impoverished cannot treat guests well is a bias of her own position that assumes the impoverished live in total squalor. The confidence and influence the wealthy exert over the poor are born of the privilege their upbringing affords them.

“‘Let’s go back to my place, okay?’ Sera says. ‘I’ll let Bhima out early to take you home.’ Maya’s blank face is suddenly animated. ‘No, Serabai […] just drop me off at the bus stop near the basti. I’m tired. I’d rather go home and rest and wait for Ma-ma to get home.’”

Maya’s refusal to return to the Dubash household foreshadows that there is something Maya is trying to avoid in Sera’s household—specifically, Viraf, the father of her child. Umrigar relies heavily on foreshadowing to reveal the identity of the father.

“Whatever it is that makes human beings laugh and dance and hope and love and pray […] Maya has lost that. And Bhima, unable to steal, purchase, or borrow it for her granddaughter, feels strongly the weight of poverty and age and illiteracy. If I were educated, she thinks, I would know what to do.”

Bhima continually feels disadvantaged by her lack of education, which has led her and her family to be exploited on multiple occasions over her lifetime. With the loss of Maya’s opportunity to become educated, Bhima begins treating education like a magic bullet that would solve her problems. Regardless of whether or not education could do so, Bhima’s intense longing for education stresses the theme of Education as a Vehicle for Social Mobility.

“She hesitated for a split second. She had never shared a utensil with a Muslim before and a lifetime of teachings sprawled like a funnel cloud into her head.”

Just as Bhima is considered “impure” and prohibited from sharing her employer’s utensils, Bhima has been taught that Muslims are “impure,” and exhibits the same discriminatory attitudes toward them. The passage highlights the theme of India’s Social Fabric of Class, Caste, Gender, and Religion and how the oppressed can perpetuate the oppression of others.

“Sera sighs to herself. She has heard some variation of this conversation her entire life. She is both amused and irritated by the people around her; even as she is appalled by their chauvinism, she feels affection for their lofty ideals and bombastic dreams. And besides, she reasons with herself, they’re basically good people, you know that.”

Sera’s attitude toward her community is characteristic of her internal inconsistencies and foreshadows her treatment of people she does not consider her own: She is able to see and understand what is problematic about the things Aban and her friends are saying, and yet Sera will never disown them. Their socio-economic in-group identity convinces her that they must be good people, despite their actions. Similarly, when Bhima is unfairly accused by Viraf, Sera is ready to defend Bhima only until Bhima reveals something that dishonors Viraf. The in-group trumps lived experience for Sera.

“All these months I’ve minded my own business, told myself you are now your husband’s property, no longer ours. But now I cannot bear to watch my only child look so miserable. So I’m asking you—why are you at our house? And why hasn’t Feroz called even once or come to take you home?”

Jehroo’s hands-off stance is the same stance that Sera will take with her own daughter’s marriage later in life with the same disastrous consequences. Jehroo’s attitude that Sera becomes her husband’s “property,” also serves as a reminder of how patriarchal and misogynistic attitudes are often upheld by women themselves. This quote exemplifies the theme of Misogyny and Abuse in Relationships.

“But then another thought struck her […] The doctor babu had to be an educated man also. Then why had he allowed Feroz seth to talk to him in that manner? Was education alone not enough? And if not, what was the missing part?”

Bhima’s contemplation of what affords Feroz the social power he possesses, points to two of the book’s central themes: Education as a Vehicle for Social Mobility, in that it is possible for education to give one a leg up in life, but also India’s Social Fabric of Class, Caste, Gender, and Religion, which accounts for intersectional identities between identity markers like class, caste, gender, and religion, all of which influence how much power and privilege one experiences in society.

“Woman, don’t you see? […] It doesn’t matter. One way or the other, they would’ve tricked us. Because they own the world, you see. They have the machines and the money and the factory and the education. We are just the tools they use to get all those things.”

Gopal voluntarily dehumanizes himself as merely a “tool” for those with wealth. In some sense, this is true of Bhima’s situation in Sera’s household as well—Bhima functions as a “tool” that takes care of menial tasks Sera cannot be bothered with and is cast aside the moment she poses a threat to Sera’s status quo. The dehumanization of Gopal’s self-perception is emblematic of the deep socio-economic divides of the social fabric in India.

“Gopal had not been in a fight in fifteen years. But now his body moved of its own volition as he slapped Bhima’s sunken cheek with his left hand. Her head jerked back, and for a moment, something like pity came into Gopal’s eyes. Then he slapped her again.”

Gopal’s immediate drive toward violence, despite his lack of violence toward other men, underlines the theme of Misogyny and Abuse in Relationships and suggests that violence lurks within the structures that socialize men on how to behave toward women. Gopal later blames this on his “emasculation,” justifying his violence as a defense of his “manhood.”

“Beti, the past is always present, […] No such thing as bringing it up.”

Bhima’s class background, her social conditioning, and upbringing rooted in her gender and religion, all influence how she sees the world and what she is not able to understand about it. Her upbringing leaves her vulnerable to exploitation at various levels, from loved ones and those outside her family equally. The past is literally always present through these characters, as the past told through flashbacks literally structures the present-day narrative.

“Three years have gone by since that day, Sera now marvels. How can that be, when the memory of that grief-filled day is still so sharp […] And yet, she admits to herself, I have never been as happy as I have these three years, with the children living with me and a new one on its way.”

Sera’s paradoxical feelings on her husband’s death stem from the gap between the things she truly feels as a human being—hatred for Feroz: affection for Bhima—and the social norms and mores she believes she is bound to.

“That’s incorrect, Ma-ma, […] I was learning how to read and write before I came to Bombay. My parents were sending me to school in Delhi. Serabai just wanted to believe I was a dum-dum she could save. And as for my clothes and food—for that I am grateful to you, not to her. It is your sweat and hard work that produce them, not Serabai’s generosity.”

Bhima’s devotion toward the Dubashes makes her believe that the good things in her life are gifts from more deserving people, not things she has earned through her own labor. This same devotion causes her to blame Maya first, illustrating how the opinions of domestic workers persist even in the minds of domestic workers.

“If you tell anybody what happened, who do you think they’re going to believe? You or me? First of all, I’ll deny everything. Be sensible and don’t do anything to jeopardize your education or Bhima’s job.”

By virtue of his gender and position as a member of Sera’s family, Viraf holds all the power in this situation, highlighting themes of both India’s Social Fabric of Class, Caste, Gender, and Religion, and Misogyny and Abuse in Relationships. Viraf’s warning comes true, demonstrating the real-world impact of the biased beliefs held by India’s patriarchal society.

“Because the only weapon she has over him she will not use. […] The only way in which she can hurt Viraf is to share his disgrace with Serabai and Dinaz, to watch the stain of his shame spread over their faces. And this she cannot do. To do this would mean to destroy the only two people who have ever treated her like a human being, who have been steadfast and true to her, who have never despised her for being ignorant or illiterate or weak.”

When the moment of reckoning arrives and Sera inadvertently learns the truth, she turns her back on Bhima without a second thought. Bhima’s loyalty to Sera costs her dearly, as Viraf takes control of the situation and forces her out of Sera’s household. Bhima’s internal loyalty and willingness to bear the “stain of shame” by herself contrasts sharply against Sera’s behavior, which reaffirms that she only ever viewed Bhima as an appliance to do housework.

“Gratitude tears at her throat and makes her take Sera’s stiff hand and hold it up to her eyes. ‘Serabai, if I am doomed to take a million rebirths in this world, I will never be able to repay you…’ Even in the dim light of the evening, she notices the teardrop that glistens on Sera’s fair-skinned wrist.”

Despite Sera’s actions, she, too, is undeniably hurt that Bhima is to leave. Sera’s actions are in contrast with her emotional response, once again highlighting the dichotomy that exists within her. It also underlines the complex relationship between the two women, united by gender and divided by every other social identity.