CHENNAI: The sound of soiled clothes being bashed and washed on concrete slabs fills the air. Scores of washed clothes are hung out to dry in the summer sun. Children run about skipping the narrow drains. The scene is a picture of chaos. Go closer and you’ll find bonhomie and order in this chaos. Welcome to the 130-year-old dhobikhana in Mylapore.
Located opposite Vivekananda College, this dhobikhana is one of the few open-air laundromats that continues to thrive despite washing machines invading households, hotels, hospitals and other commercial places. The stretch along Veera Peruman Koil Street is occupied by around 132 families who belong to the washerman community. But currently, the dhobikhana employs only about 25 families, who continue to remain in this occupation. “It is the third generation that is taking forward the legacy of the job. Their children made a choice to gradually move to other fields that are dignified and pay better. Eventually, there might be no one to continue this job,” says P Devadas, president of Mylapore dhobikhana.
In the early days, locals from Vellore and Bengaluru moved to Mylapore because of the prospects of this job. A committee was formed 65 years ago to take care of the management and operations of the dhobikhana. They’d hold a meeting on the last Sunday of every month to discuss problems and arrive at solutions. “I come from the family of Jittu Munnusamy Masthri, one of the founding members of this dhobikhana. Now I’ve taken up the responsibility as the team leader for the past 15 years. Lack of sufficient water is the basic problem. We need about 6,000 litres of water a day. We recently purchased a motor pump and that’s our only source of fresh water. Our complaints haven’t been addressed,” says the fourth-generation grandson of Jittu Munnusamy Masthri.
“I was told by my grandfather that in 1938, the British used to sleep behind the clothes hung out for drying, on the roads. But some of their horses would rub their face against the clothes and make them dirty. So they decided to allot this space near Vivekananda College, and a dhobikhana was set up,” shares Devadas.
At 5 am every day, the dhobikhana comes alive. There are 22 stones, an extended shed to iron the clothes, and two restrooms. The timings are divided on a shift basis mutually agreed upon by men and women. The clothes are segregated and soaked in separate buckets the previous night. Men take charge in the morning and finish the first stage of washing. Women arrive after completing their daily activities and rinse the remaining load. By early noon, the clothes are spread out for drying. And by late noon they are ironed, folded and packed in respective bags.
The washing duties are over at 6 pm. Working under the sun is a strenuous task during summer. In the rains, the dark clouds loom large over the dhobikhana, indicative of a lull period. “We allot numbers to every bundle so there is no chance of a mix up. People mostly give us their white clothes fearing that it might get stained by coloured clothes in the washing machine. The older generation who’ve been giving us their clothes continue to do so,” says G Balraman, a fourth-generation washerman.
Despite the mushrooming of private players and laundry apps, large establishments like private hospitals and salons continue to rely on the dhobis. About 200-300 clothes are washed every day. Earlier, washing a piece of cloth used to cost 5 to 10 paise. Now, every piece of washed cloth is priced at `30, which is inclusive of pick-up, washing, ironing and delivery. But the numbers are dwindling. From thousands of clothes to mere hundreds, the business of washing is fading.
“We believe that ours is one of the most affected dhobikhanas in the city. The facilities are poor. Water scarcity during summer has hit us hard. We haven’t received any amenities from the government, including the most basic requirement — water. We shelled out money from our pockets to buy the motor. Even the iron boxes don’t work properly. We grapple with issues of electricity shortage. The bathrooms are clogged. And most important of all, we still live in rented apartments. This leaves us with no savings. How do we survive under such conditions?,” rues Gauri, wife of Balraman.
Constant exposure to water and detergent makes them prone to infections. The shoulders are the most strained part of every washerman’s body. The community has been protesting for long to get the status of scheduled caste. Durai Kannu is one of the oldest-working members here. He has been fighting ever since the British era. “I am tired of participating in protests. I will die one day, but the community needs to fight for the status,” he says.
Prospects in the past
In the early days, locals from Vellore and Bengaluru moved to Mylapore because of the prospects of this job. A committee was formed to take care of the management and operations of the dhobikhana.
