Our comfort, someone else’s discomfort

For the longest time I have been oblivious of everyday casteism, as called out by journalists like Divya Kandukri and Tejas Harad. However, over time, their insights are making me more aware of a general self-centeredness I have been oblivious to for long.

I recently found out that some housing societies do not allow carpentry, electrical or other such work in flats or shared spaces in apartment buildings between two and four in the afternoon. Apparently, the justification is that this is when older people and children take a nap and they should be allowed to do so in peace.

I discovered this because my parents wanted some carpentry work done at their house. The gentleman hired to do the work wanted to ascertain if their apartment building had similar rules. It did not. He was relieved. Of course, given my general obliviousness, I did not understand his relief. So, I asked him why it mattered.

In cities, skilled craftspeople who take on independent work usually must hire labourers. These labourers are paid per day, with the understanding that a working day is from 10 to 6. This is not set in stone and work usually winds up by 6.15-6.30. However, if work continues for longer, an overtime must be paid. A two-three-hour break in work would mean that work would extend well beyond this 15-30-minute window. This means having to pay an overtime, which will add to the quote the craftsperson will provide. Craftspeople who independently take on work are increasingly rare. And retaining their independence might mean negotiating with clients who will haggle to lower the total cost. What this will eventually mean is that the craftsman/woman settles for lower margins for themselves.

If there is solace in overtime for the labourers hired, it comes with the disadvantage of getting home late at night, something that those of us living in such housing societies might dislike doing ourselves, because quality time with family and work-life balance is vital, of course!

Some might argue that the two-three-hour break should be welcomed. However, these are people who might travel far for work using often unreliable public transport. So, going home during the break is not an option, which means sitting around waiting to be allowed to get back to work. And it is not as if we provide space for them to relax in. If they are working in empty houses, they might be able to take a nap; if not, they will have to try their luck finding a shaded spot to wait out the enforced break.

As an editor, my job requires immersing myself in the content. Peace and quiet is ideal for such work. Ever since I started freelancing, I have realised that the ideal is unreal. Children will bang doors and thunder around the house above as if their butts are on fire. People will walk up to the window next door in search of optimal signal and have loud conversations uncaring of who is listening. Someone else in the next building will decide that their taste in music or television programming needs to be shared.

Is a little scraping and banging and hammering all that different? Ordinarily, I would have rejoiced at a break in such noisy work. Now, I might have to think about what that break really means. Peace and quiet, an afternoon nap, whether we like it or not, these are also the luxuries of a degree of privilege. Maybe we need more thoughtfulness when we make rules designed for our comfort. Whom are we hurting with such rules? Is it very difficult to accommodate their concerns?