The Nirvik Bureau, Bhubaneswar, 30 January 2026
Bhubaneswar Achieves 100% Literacy In Dodging Household Chores
The World Bank Chief’s aircraft glided into Bhubaneswar with the grace of a new metro inauguration video. Cameras flashed, flowers showered, and our Hon’ble Chief Minister smiled the practiced smile of a man who has cut more ribbons than birthday cakes. The topic of the day: Bhubaneswar’s “inclusive growth,” “smart city status,” and “human capital transformation.”
Outside the airport, in a 3BHK in a “premium” gated community, a more serious summit was in progress: the daily Emergency Maid Search Committee meeting.
Because in Bhubaneswar, you can summon the World Bank Chief with a MoU and a press release, but you cannot get anyone to mop your floor for love, money, or desperate emotional blackmail.
Smart City, Dumb Reality
The Chief Minister and the World Bank Chief discussed sustainable development, green corridors, and digital governance. PowerPoints flew, English flowed, and everyone nodded gravely about “last-mile delivery of services.”
Inside people’s homes, the last mile is from the sink to the drying rack, and even that is not being delivered.
- You can get a data scientist,
- You can get a food delivery boy at 11:30 pm,
- You can get a Zumba instructor, a pet groomer, and a tarot reader,
- But you cannot get anyone to come at 7 am and make two rotis and sweep the floor without vanishing after three days.
“Bhubaneswar has transformed,” the dignitaries declared. They are right. We have transformed from “Which school is good?” to “Do you know any maid who is regular?” as the opening line of every conversation.
The Great Maid Migration
Our economists say labour has shifted to more “aspirational” jobs. Translation:
Why do back-breaking cleaning for one house when you can do back-breaking delivery for ten apps and still not listen to madam shouting about “one glass having one watermark”?
Former maids now:
- Drive autos with more dignity than most corporate jobs.
- Work in malls, call centres, and beauty parlours.
- Run home tiffin businesses and earn more than “madam’s husband in IT.”
Meanwhile, the urban middle class—armed with degrees, EMIs, and ergonomic chairs—has discovered its one great weakness: actual physical work.
The house is now a battlefield of unwashed utensils, dust bunnies, and passive-aggressive WhatsApp messages:
- “Can you at least soak the dal?”
- “I had back-to-back meetings.”
- “And I have back-to-back dishes.”
Bhubaneswar couples are fighting more over jharu–pocha than over in-laws. Children are being raised on moral values and Swiggy.
World Bank vs. Water Bucket
The World Bank Chief spoke eloquently about “household-level resilience.” Somewhere, a resident of Patia or Nayapalli looked at the overflowing dustbin and wondered if he’d like to come and model it.
Imagine the perfect development pilot project:
“Public–Private–Panic Partnership for Domestic Help Management.”
- The government provides a portal.
- A startup makes an app: “Uber for Maids.”
- The World Bank funds a study.
- And still, no one comes on time.
Because the problem is not technology. The problem is that the people who used to quietly scrub your bathrooms have finally realised they deserve more than your leftover sabzi and the honour of being called “part of the family” until they ask for a salary hike.
The smart city has improved their options. It’s only the “madams” and “sirs” who didn’t get the memo.
The New Elite: People With Maids
In Bhubaneswar today, the true status symbol is not a luxury car, not an international school, not a sea-facing Puri weekend apartment. It is a regular, reliable, non-vanishing maid.
These rare humans are now:
- Booked via waiting lists.
- Guarded more tightly than trade secrets.
- Referenced in hushed tones: “Please don’t poach my maid, re.”
Job descriptions have become ridiculous:
“Wanted: all-rounder maid. Duties include cleaning, cooking, handling Amazon parcels, babysitting, dealing with plumbers, listening to madam’s office gossip, and staying eternally grateful.”
Salary offered: “We are like family.”
Hard Truth Under The Haldi Stains
We clap for our city’s growth, and we must. But the maid crisis is a simple reminder: the people we underpaid, overworked, and took for granted have finally walked out of the back door… into a slightly better life.
Bhubaneswar can host global conferences, attract foreign investment, and impress the World Bank Chief. Yet homes are in complete turmoil because no one knows how to wash a bathroom properly, and everyone thinks they are too educated to learn.
Maybe the real “inclusive growth” will start the day the same people who demand dignity for themselves extend it to the woman who cleans their toilet—and, until then, they might have to do it themselves.
Now that would be a true smart city revolution.
