Do you think that it is alright for an employer to date an employee? Let me add in some details here. The employer is a heterosexual man, and the employee is a heterosexual woman. They live in the same house because she is a domestic worker who cooks for him, cleans the house, runs errands, entertains guests, and also provides extra labour when his mother — who lives separately — organises parties for her rich friends.
If you haven’t watched Rohena Gera’s film Is Love Enough? Sir, I am gently leading you into the plot. Ashwin, a writer-turned-architect played by Vivek Gomber, is newly single after breaking off his engagement with a woman who cheated on him. Ratna, his employee played by Tillotama Shome, is also single because her husband died when she was only 19 years old. Ashwin finds comfort in Ratna. He thinks that she is the only one who truly understands him.
What is the problem? Does Ratna not want to be with him? Is Ashwin pursuing her for his own sexual fulfilment, without giving much thought to what she wants? The film does not name caste and class in so many words but explores these concerns in a nuanced and sensitive manner. Tillotama is the one who really shines in this film with her understated but evocative performance. After their first kiss, Ratna tells Ashwin, “Sir, I made a mistake.”
This self-blame might come as a surprise. However, it shows how the love that transcends socially constructed boundaries — from Ashwin’s perspective — also threatens to ruin the life Ratna has diligently created for herself. She worries that, if her brother-in-law got a whiff of this romance, he would drag her back from the city to the village to defend “family honour”. Ratna tells Ashwin, “I may be a villager but I’m not going to live here as your mistress.”
Ratna is a proud woman. She does not want to be Ashwin’s charity case. He harbours thoughts of giving her a life that, in his view, seems more dignified than what she is used to. Since Ashwin’s head is up in the clouds, Ratna is compelled to give him a much-needed reality check. “I will become a laughingstock,” she says. Ashwin’s friend Vicky too tries to reason with him. “People will never let her forget that she is a maid, your maid,” he says.
This is a slightly unusual premise for a Hindi film where rich-boy-loves-poor-girl and rich-girl-loves-poor-boy stories are fairly common. The house that Ratna lives in is also her workplace. The moment of intimacy between her and Ashwin is irreversible. What transpires in that house is not sexual harassment but the film does raise important questions about the dynamics in an employer-employee relationship. How is rejection viewed by men in power?
Ashwin comes across as a thoughtful, even benevolent, person. However, due to his own social location, he finds it terribly difficult to appreciate Ratna’s stance. After a party at his mother’s house, Ashwin goes to the kitchen to ask if he should wait for Ratna. Two other employees, along with Ratna, are seated on the floor and are having their meals. Ashwin is so entangled in his own feelings that he fails to realise how Ratna processes all of this.
Ratna leaves the house. What if she had continued to live there?
In a Human Rights Watch report titled No #MeToo For Women Like Us: Poor Enforcement of India’s Sexual Harassment Law (2020), Jayshree Bajoria writes, “Domestic workers are another significant category of workers who are especially at risk of sexual harassment and violence due to their isolation in private homes and their exclusion from many key labour protections guaranteed to other workers.”
Do they have a chance or a platform to speak out and be heard? I fear not.
(Not Only But Also is a regular column with a fresh take on gender, sexuality, and more. The author is a Mumbai-based writer, educator, and researcher. He tweets @chintan_connect.)