CHAPTER 4: SOCIETY'S SKEWED VIEWS
Saraswati finally found a job, though it was a simple one with a modest salary. She devoted all her energy to working at a batik workshop, determined to prove that she could support her family. However, no matter how hard she tried to focus on her work, she could not escape the judgmental gazes of those around her.
Rumors about Saraswati spread quickly. The women in the village, who once sympathized with her, now began to look at her with suspicion. Her decision to work outside the home became the subject of endless gossip.
"Did you hear? Saraswati is working with men at the batik workshop," one woman whispered to another.
"A young widow, surrounded by men every day? That can't be good," another responded, shaking her head in disapproval.
Saraswati often felt the watchful eyes of her neighbors. Whenever she passed by a group of women, she could feel their sharp stares, their whispered conversations stopping abruptly as she approached. It was as if they were waiting for her to make a mistake—just to validate their unfounded assumptions.
Saraswati never imagined that being a widow would make her feel like an outcast in her own village. She knew people would talk, but she had not expected the cruelty of their words. Every action she took was questioned, every decision she made was criticized.
One afternoon, as she returned home from work, she saw a few elderly women gathered near her house. Their voices were hushed, but she caught fragments of their conversation.
"She always comes home late. What is she really up to?"
"Maybe she enjoys the attention from the men at her workplace."
Those words pierced Saraswati's heart, but she held back her emotions, refusing to let them see her pain. She walked with her head held high, pretending she had not heard them. Yet inside, she ached. Was she not allowed to work? Could she not earn an honest living without being judged?
The gossip did not only affect Saraswati—it also impacted her daughter, Amara. The little girl began to notice how the parents of her friends kept their children away whenever she approached. The warm smiles of neighbors had turned into cold, distant gazes.
One night, as Saraswati was tucking Amara into bed, the child clung to her tightly. "Mother, why don't my friends want to play with me anymore? Did I do something wrong?"
Saraswati's eyes welled up with tears, but she quickly wiped them away. "No, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Sometimes, people misunderstand things they don't know about. But don't worry, everything will be alright."
Amara nodded, but Saraswati could see the sadness in her eyes. It was another burden she had to carry—watching her child suffer because of society's harsh judgment.
The only person who remained steadfast in supporting Saraswati was Mrs. Ratna. She saw clearly how the malicious gossip was baseless and stayed by Saraswati's side.
"Don't let them break you, Saras," Mrs. Ratna said one evening as they sat together in Saraswati's small yard. "You are doing what you need to do to survive. There is no shame in that."
Saraswati sighed. "But it hurts, Ma'am. They treat me like a threat, just because I am a widow. They don't know how difficult it is to be in my position."
Mrs. Ratna gently held her hand. "Let them talk. In the end, you don't need their approval. What matters is your strength and dignity."
Saraswati offered a weak smile, grateful for Mrs. Ratna's kindness. If not for her, she did not know how she would endure the endless gossip and accusatory glances that followed her every move.
Fate seemed to have another surprise for Saraswati. One day, after work, she unexpectedly ran into Mr. Boase Wijaya. He had heard about her struggles and approached her with a sincere offer.
"Mrs. Saraswati, I know you are facing difficulties. I would like to offer you a job at my kindergarten as a teacher," he said warmly.
Saraswati was taken aback. "A teacher? But I don't have formal experience."
Boase smiled. "You have a child, don't you? You teach her every day. That is experience enough. I believe you have the patience and kindness to guide young children."
Tears of gratitude welled up in Saraswati's eyes—this time, not from sadness, but from relief and appreciation. "Thank you, Mr. Boase. You don't know how much this means to me."
The offer gave Saraswati new hope. Perhaps this was the fresh start she needed. Maybe, despite the cruel words and unfair accusations, she could still carve out a new path for herself and Amara.
Accepting the job at the kindergarten meant facing new challenges and societal expectations, but Saraswati was ready to fight. If people wanted to judge her, so be it. She had more important things to focus on—her daughter, her mother, and their future.
As she walked home that night, her heart felt lighter. For the first time in a long while, she dared to dream again. Maybe—just maybe—she was heading towards something better.
But she also knew that the battle was far from over. Society had not yet fully accepted her. And as she stepped into her home, she braced herself for the challenges that lay ahead.