The household lady

Life is an uninteresting affair when one if forced to adhere to a routine that hardly gives time for oneself. When the routine is deviated from, chaos sets in and the whole life goes in for a toss. But at the same time, following the highly rigid, inflexible timings makes one weary and lifeless. A compromise is reached often sacrificing self-interests for the benefits of the family. Let’s take a superficial look at the life of Rekha, one among the millions of married women who strive to attain a balance between personal life, family and office. This was what one particular page from her diary had got to say. In fact, the date over the page might change when flipping the pages but the content and the hidden pain and of course the happiness towards the end is bound to remain the same.

The sleep seemed to last for hardly an hour or two. The fatigue being experienced by my body was lost recalling the disgust on my husband’s face the previous day, when I couldn’t cater to his demands of a proper breakfast, recalling the sadness on the faces of Gautham and Ravi whom I forced to travel by the school bus as on every other day even after my promise to drop them myself atleast once a week and recalling the deadline stated by my boss to complete the project.

I forced myself to move out of the bed and started my daily chores. As usual, the milkman hadn’t come on that day too and I set my feet in the direction of the grocery store, a full 30 minutes walk. Having done so I seated myself on the sofa and heaved a sigh of relief but I got up the very next moment recalling the over boiled drops of milk that rejected to stay together and dispersed into the air, recalling the half burnt chapattis that appeared to have smeared coal tar over them and recalling the half cooked rice which even our dog had refused.

The morning breakfast was prepared as per my husband’s wishes the previous day- linen thin dosas with masala between the folds and accompanying Sambhar. It was in need a surprise to see how artistically the heat had induced a golden brown texture on the otherwise white dough. With a small hope that it wouldn’t turn out to be a horrible meal, I moved on to the preparation of lunch to be packed for my husband and children.

And then came the tiring yet enjoyable but tedious task of dressing up may little children for school. But they wouldn’t agree to get ready. They demanded a holiday but a bribe of a huge and fat diary milk had made them revert. But still they wouldn’t accept to be dressed smart enough. I thought of paying way for their demands and leave them as they were but the next moment I was determined enough to make them the smartest children recalling the punishment they were given by the PT masters in the school because of their improper uniform, recalling the conversation with my colleague during which an inconvenient remark was passed about my children and recalling the tears in my children’s faces when I had accepted to leave them as they were only after their demands! Their shoes were polished, their bow was straightened and their hair was oiled and finally, they looked smart indeed.

And then came the moment for which I would be waiting every morning- the time when we would be having breakfast together. Those indeed are the most pleasant moments of my life. The kids would be demanding to make it fast for they wouldn’t like to be marked late and my husband would request not to be served more and more. Amidst these demands and requests, I need to ensure that they eat well. I stood in the path of my husband’s way for he considers it to be auspicious and then  waved my hand at him following which I fulfilled the promise made to my children which was broken yesterday- accompanying them to school. I received a kiss each on my cheeks, the sweetest in thewhoel world. Never did I expect such a day to come in my life when everyone- my darling, my little Gautham and my little Ravi would be cheerful and contented.

I thought of taking a leave but I couldn’t afford to do so recalling the deadline stated by my manager for the project, recalling the leave of my co-worker that day whose work needs to be completed by me and finally recalling my record of not taking leave even on a single day! There was a problem with my car and not a single cab or auto could be spotted.  I had to do away with a journey by bus. The scorching heat made me take bath a second time, the jam packed bus deprived me of my breath and the omnipresent speed breakers along with the metallic structures did take revenge on me. But I reached my office safely.

Nothing more can be mentioned apart from the keys I hit on the keyboard to order the computer work as a slave for me, however ironic it may appear that it is me who works a s slave to make the computer perform tasks that are expected from it. Eight hours and an additional four hours to make up for the absence of my friend passed by and I was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

A few hours would be spent on helping my little children complete their homework and I would be in bed being content with the love emanating from my husband’s heart. Hope that the following day witness the same pleasure that I have experienced today even at the expense of an incredible amount of energy on my behalf.

The story is not just of Rekha but of every married Indian woman who is into the difficult process of balancing both family life and office life. When they have changed so much giving their own happiness a second priority striving to see happiness on the faces of their beloved husbands and children, can’t we change a bit? Just a small change from each one of us is required. The male community can put aside their ego and the concept of superiority of males for a moment and help the female community in the household chores. The tiny kids, however small and innocent they might be able to still help in minor tasks.

Change is neither demanded nor request but only suggested!

( Image Credit: Image redrawn from here )

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