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By:

C.S. Krishnamurthy

21 June 2025 at 2:15:51 pm

The Homemaker’s Worth

AI generated image One Sunday morning, I watched a neighbour rushing around his apartment in mild panic. His wife had gone to attend a family function for just three days. Suddenly, breakfast had become a challenge, medicines for his ageing mother were forgotten, school assignments remained unsigned, and the laundry basket resembled a small mountain. With a sheepish smile, he confessed, “I never realised how many things she handles.” His experience is hardly unique. Most families function so...

The Homemaker’s Worth

AI generated image One Sunday morning, I watched a neighbour rushing around his apartment in mild panic. His wife had gone to attend a family function for just three days. Suddenly, breakfast had become a challenge, medicines for his ageing mother were forgotten, school assignments remained unsigned, and the laundry basket resembled a small mountain. With a sheepish smile, he confessed, “I never realised how many things she handles.” His experience is hardly unique. Most families function so smoothly that we rarely pause to ask a few uncomfortable questions. Who keeps the invisible wheels turning? Who would manage the meals, schedules, emotional crises, school meetings, medical appointments, budgeting, caregiving, and countless unnoticed tasks that stitch together the fabric of family life? More importantly, what would be the economic cost of replacing every one of those functions? Nation Builders It is in this context, the recent verdict of the Supreme Court, delivered by Justices Sanjay Karol and N.K. Singh, is more than a legal pronouncement, and invites a larger conversation. Describing homemakers as “nation builders,” the Court has directed that the loss of domestic care in motor accident compensation cases be assigned a minimum value of Rs.30,000 per month, subject to revision every three years. Significantly, this amount is separate from other heads of compensation and recognises the distinct value of unpaid caregiving. Why is work considered valuable only when a salary slip accompanies it? Why do national accounts meticulously record the production of goods but often ignore the production of human capability? Can an economy truly measure its wealth while overlooking the labour that nurtures its future workforce? Modern economies resemble magnificent skyscrapers. People admire the shining exterior, but seldom notice the foundation veiled beneath the earth. Homemakers are those foundations. For generations, domestic work has occupied a strange blind spot, and have been viewed merely as family obligations rather than productive activity. Yet the household itself depends on this labour. The Supreme Court rightly observed the irony of describing a homemaker as a “dependent” when the entire family is often dependent upon the homemaker. Drawing upon earlier judgments and even the Supreme Court’s 2023 Handbook on combating gender stereotypes, the Bench preferred the term “homemaker” over “housewife” as the latter often carries the outdated assumption that women who remain at home contribute little economically. “Homemaker” recognises the enormous unpaid labour and monetary savings generated within households. Economists have long recognised this truth. Nobel laureate Gary Becker described households as productive units that create human capital. Doctors, engineers, entrepreneurs and public servants do not emerge fully formed. They are moulded over years through discipline, affection, sacrifice and care. The first classroom is usually the home, and the homemaker its chief educator. Studies estimate that women's unpaid caregiving contributes between 15 and 17 per cent of India's GDP. Yet much of this labour remains absent from conventional economic statistics. It is rather like admiring the fruit of a tree while refusing to acknowledge its roots. Beyond Numbers Of course, the contribution of a homemaker cannot truly be measured in rupees and paise. Can affection be monetised? Can emotional support during illness be assigned a market price? Can the countless acts of kindness that sustain family life be translated into accounting entries? Probably not. Yet courts dealing with compensation claims must assign some pecuniary value. The Supreme Court itself acknowledged that no figure can adequately compensate for the loss of domestic care. The prescribed amount of Rs.30,000 per month is therefore a symbolic minimum, a stand-in rather than a perfect valuation. The judgment arose from a tragic accident in Haryana dating back to 2001, but its implications stretch far beyond one family. It marks another milestone in the evolving judicial recognition of unpaid labour, building upon earlier decisions such as Lata Wadhwa, Arun Kumar Agrawal, Kirti, and the 2024 ruling which held that a homemaker's deemed income should not be lower than minimum wages. Perhaps the greatest contribution of this judgment lies in its symbolism. Nation-building does not occur only in Parliament, corporate boardrooms or laboratories. It also unfolds in kitchens, at dining tables and during late-night conversations between anxious parents and growing children. A family resembles an orchestra. The audience applauds the performers under the spotlight, but someone must tune the instruments and coordinate the music. Homemakers have long performed this role quietly, without applause and often without acknowledgement. After all, nations are built not merely by those who earn a living, but equally by those who shape the lives of those who do. (The writer is a retired banker and author. Views personal.)

The Invisible Air Divide

India’s battle against pollution cannot be won without confronting the social inequities hidden within the smog.

Each winter, India’s cities disappear behind a familiar grey curtain. Schools are closed; flights are delayed while hospitals are full of respiratory patients Air pollution has become so common in India that it is like a season in itself.


But beneath this ecological catastrophe lies another, less talked-about crisis. India’s pollution is very uneven. Not everyone breathes the same way. While whole cities are affected by pollution, the most vulnerable people are informal workers, low-income households, migrant communities, slum dwellers, sanitation workers, traffic cops, street vendors, construction workers and children growing up near industrial areas or highways. Air pollution in India is also a reflection of social and economic inequity. The rich can breathe toxic air, but they often have the resources to escape, filter or relocate away from it, or recover from it. Millions of others don’t have this luxury.

 

Class Divide

In urban India, health often depends on topography. Richer neighborhoods tend to have more open space, wider streets, more infrastructure, and be further from industry. Poorer areas are often situated close to landfills, factories, busy highways, building sites, open drains and filthy rivers. The result is an environmental segregation that exposes the poor to higher levels and a constant barrage of pollution.


Pollution is dangerous but manageable for a child raised in a gated neighborhood with air filters, private healthcare and climate-controlled spaces. For a child who lives near a dump or a busy road, pollution is part of the daily routine. The difference is most apparent during severe pollution events in cities like Delhi. Middle-class conversations often focus on buying masks or air purifiers. For the millions working outside, losing a day’s wages is simply not an option.


As the Air Quality Index worsens, construction workers can’t help but breathe in dust. Likewise, a sanitation worker cannot avoid exposure to harmful garbage burning. The economic imperative of environmental risk is inescapable.


The informal sector bears a large share of India’s pollution burden. Delivery drivers spend hours in their cars on congested highways choked with vehicle exhaust. Traffic policemen are often exposed to fumes of exhaust. For years, factory workers have been inhaling industrial toxins. Rickshaw pullers, garbage collectors, and street vendors live in some of the most polluted microclimates in metropolitan India.


These workers often do not have adequate access to health care, insurance coverage or long-term medical support. Pollution presents a health and employment dilemma for them. This imbalance is all the more troubling because those most at risk from pollution are often those least responsible for creating it. The poorest people in India tend to use less energy, own fewer private vehicles, and contribute little to carbon-intensive lifestyles. But they are disproportionately affected by environmental damage.


Effect on Children

The most concerning part of the situation is the impact of pollution on children. Doctors are reporting more and more children with respiratory problems, asthma, reduced lung capacity, allergies, and developmental health problems who have been exposed to polluted environments.


Kids from wealthier families may still be exposed to pollution, but they generally have cleaner indoor environments, better nutrition, earlier detection, and private health care. Poorer children tend to be housed in overpopulated communities with poor ventilation, open waste burning and limited medical care.


Air pollution during a child’s early years can seriously impact education, cognitive development and future productivity at work.


Pollution affects women in distinct and more subtle ways. Many low-income women spend more time handling domestic tasks in poorly ventilated environments, while also being exposed to indoor pollution from cooking fuels, particularly in places where access to clean energy is intermittent.


Women working in the informal sector, such as domestic workers, street vendors, rubbish pickers, and agricultural workers, are also exposed to the outdoors for extended periods of time. But gendered pollution loads are rarely discussed in mainstream policy debates. Pregnant women exposed to extreme air pollution are more likely to develop difficulties while infants born into polluted areas may suffer health repercussions from the very beginning. In India, it is not only income but also gender, occupation, and geography that determine susceptibility to environmental damage.


India is entering a dangerous phase when clean air can become a class privilege. Private air purifiers, climate-controlled homes, cleaner residential neighborhoods, priority health care, and the ability to temporarily migrate during pollution spikes are increasingly dividing those who can and those who can’t.


Environmental protection is gradually being commercialized. This has major implications for democracy and public policy. If the poor are disproportionately affected by pollution while the rich can largely shield themselves, the political imperative for structural reform can wane over time.


The pollution situation in India is often termed an ‘ecological emergency’ but there’s also a crisis of social justice. The country does not breathe the same air in the same amount. In India, class, location, work, gender and access to protection influence exposure to pollution. The least economically secure are often exposed to the greatest environmental risk.


The tragedy is that this injustice is largely unrecognized. Pollution statistics can measure particle matter in the atmosphere, but they rarely capture the unequal human reality that underlies it. Clean air should be a right, not a privilege. It is not only an environmental concern but a matter of dignity and equality. Until India decides to see pollution as an environmental and social inequality issue, millions will keep breathing uneven air in silence.


(The writer is a columnist and climate researcher with experience in political analysis, ESG research, and energy policy. Views personal.)

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