Old at heart….

The Protagonist in the movies, especially when there is a moment of realization is shown as the one person in a crowded street, facing a sea of humanity as they rush past her   (look i chose to make the protagonist a she coz I can write and relate to her well) in their black or grey clothes, while she looks perplexed/afraid/annoyed/whatever based on her histrionic abilities, while a bright coloured scarf unwinds itself from her neck. Cue the inspirational/sorrowful/suspense music.

Truly I am in such a close up and then tracking shot right now. Except, maybe if the production values were reversed, I am the one in the black dress looking perplexed, as people, family, friends, acquaintances rush past in their colorful chic clothes, creating this storm of chatter and yet not really calling out to me. I think it suits me just fine. I want to be left alone. I do not want to make meaningless conversation.

All I feel like doing is to just sit on my bed, watch marathon TV shows, drink endless cups of tea and occasionally check phone or facebook. Nothing interests me any longer. Nothing except music and maybe food to an extent. But that’s it. I find most people tiresome, boring. I can’t talk about my feelings or dreams because I fear they will not be understood.  The fear is from the fact that I did try talking to a very very close friend but he didnt get it. I can’t blame him coz he is not used to such complexities in life.

I am losing interest in my job. I do not want to be told sit here, walk there, eat now, pay now. Money I earn is not even a feel good factor these days. I think twice before putting up a blog post, worrying people will say I am selfish, I am a horrible person, how dare I write such things etc. Imagine that. I fear the potential words of strangers I probably will never meet. Every word I think of is analyzed carefully to ensure there won’t be anger as retaliation. I am a coward. I am terrified of confrontation. I hate it when I intently explain something that means a lot to me to a friend, and then get a pale washed out opinion in response. Why can’t people try harder? Here I am, telling you why something made me think out aloud, why that something made me care, and all you can say is oh okay? Oh okay? What sort of response is that? Why are people so lazy that they have stopped thinking? Or caring?

50 days before I turn 25 and a quarter life crisis already. Great.

Now does that mean I am getting Old??

Maids On Demand- On domestic help

How many times have we heard people especially home makers complain that their world is upside down because of the lack of a maid. Even if  they do find a maid, the problems and tension does not seem to stop. That’s partly because they are now challenging existing norms by demanding fairer pay and better working conditions. And that sometimes includes branded gifts and time out with boyfriends.

I still remember my maid named Kala slave for a pittance at a  home in Cochin. The family had migrated to the capital from a village near Palghat in search of a better life 20 years ago. Today, her daughter earns 10 times Kala’s salary and, more importantly, is indispensable to her employer.

Kala’s small story actually chronicles a sweeping change in how India’s metros treat their domestic help. This is not just driven by the fact that we are becoming an egalitarian society. A host of factors are now empowering the domestic labour force in the city and the bai is no longer a pushover.

The underpaid, overworked, subservient maid of our childhood, who did her work quietly and accepted old sarees from our mothers with gratitude, has transformed into an empowered, often educated and confident worker who does not bat an eyelid before demanding respectable wages, perks, expensive gifts on festivals, weekly offs, and flexi-hours. But since most middle-class families still seem to be used to the old system, where the grandmothers scoffed at the idea of treating the servants well, they continue to seek a help who is good, reliable, does not throw tantrums and is cheap.

But like parking space and affordable housing, finding such workers in cities is becoming increasingly difficult. I had a tough time looking for a stable and reliable help after my dad fell ill a couple of months ago. “I tried two-three women but they had the oddest of demands. One wanted to watch TV all day long, another would sing and prance about the house and a third one said she would only cook and supervise the other servant cleaning and washing clothes and dishes. After about 3 months struggle I managed to find a good part-time help.

Not only is getting good house-help difficult, retaining them is another battle. A very dear friend recalls an interesting episode involving her  maid. “I got a full-time help, a lady in her 40s, who took good care of her house and her young child. But she had an odd request. She wanted a bottle once in a while. So, on her off day, she liked her drink and enjoyed getting sozzled. And I shamelessly relented because I really needed her. “

With more and more middle-class women taking career jobs, working for long hours, they are now, more than ever, dependent on cooks, maids, nannies and drivers.

Another friend who lives with her husband and two-year-old daughter in Bangalore, spends Rs 7, 500 a month on her house-helps. She has a full-time maid who cooks, takes care of her daughter and does the dusting. The part-time lady does the washing and cleaning. She feels that urban lifestyles leave very little time for housekeeping and that’s why people like her just can’t do without outside help. She goes on to explain that  our parents led simpler lives and did a lot of their work on their own. But we depend on drivers, nannies, cleaners etc. Today, if the driver doesn’t show up it throws the day out of gear!

However while the demand has increased, the supply has not. Development and progress in villages and small towns that are traditionally backward areas known for providing cities with cheap workforce – has created job opportunities for the labour class there.Newer jobs in the city, like those of security guards, have provided them with better alternatives.  So, we still have the same pool of informal, unorganised labour, but now there are many more people dipping into it.
Clearly, the social dynamics are in a flux.Migration of labour from rural areas to big metros is slowly declining due to high costs of living in the cities. Earning Rs 5, 000 or Rs 6, 000 in a city can hardly get you much these days. For the same reason, migrant labour that’s already in the city is now demanding higher wages. “

Employers are ready to do anything to keep their maids in good humour. My friend in Bangalore  takes her maid out to the movies and the malls once in a while. She is also very cautious of reprimanding her cook. There are days when the rice is undercooked or overcooked, or she puts too much or too little salt in the food, but she can’t point out her mistake. Even if she is damn angry, sge controls her rage and sweetly explain to the maid what’s missing. She cannot risk losing her.

I was just thinking, I remember seeing the Bai comes to our house for the sweeping, cleaning in a ragged saree ( the erstwhile of the typical Bai!) and I am amazed at the way my cook comes in wearing a fashionable salwar and matching accessories! WHATTA CHANGE!

Be that as it may, the fact is that today’s career woman cannot do without her home staff. Your maid may watch too much television, use your expensive cream in your absence and consume too much tea, but if at the end of your workday she welcomes you to a tidy home, a well-kept kid and a warm dinner, then she’s worth all her tantrums and price tag. And if not anything else, how many daily soaps and cinemas have plots based on servants and maliks or malkins :) and our famous “Gangu Bai” making us laugh by potraying the typical maid!

P.S- haaaa after all this, I shamelessly admit to having a maid for cleaning, sweeping, washing, A self proclaimed Cook and a full time help for dad!!

>Reflections

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Well i have just started living a quarter of a century ago,actually less than that. I have had people asking me how i can write so intense. I laugh and ask, me.. intense?? Its all about experience and putting into words.

So anyway my twenties have been a period of continually forgetting and rediscovering parts of myself. in many ways, i think i had a much stronger sense of self until the age of 20. that’s not to say i was happier, cos i definitely wasn’t, but my ideas about who i was were rigid, and if nothing else, there was a sense of security in this.

In my twenties i suddenly had all these choices – especially once i finished my degree and i began to figure what i liked to do, who i liked to be with, and i realised that my life was of my own making, and i was free to make whatever choices i liked – from the most mundane to the most profound.

Every choice has repercussions. Each choice uncovers bits of myself that I didnt realise were there. and simultaneously draws attention from the parts I was previously focusing on.

So life is this dance – this push and this pull – this ebbing sea, and i am never quite sure who i am, or where my boundaries are.

Then, suddenly, it all comes together, and i realise that i am standing outside myself, with the space and freedom to look in on myself.

It doesn’t happen very often, but in those moments i am not just finding a part of myself…

I am seeing who i really am in the reflection that I see right before my eyes……

The face stares back
From behind the invisible wall
Fogged and drenched in
Speckles of vapor and
A shadow of a vacuous life
Not remembered but
Shapeless Like the ominous sky
Shimmering like a gemstone
Washed in the murky waters
Of fate reflecting a formless deity
Who stares at my blurred form
With undead eyes
Black, humid and crisp

>The Cockroach,women and the mind!

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Three woman meet. Yeah, you can guess? Lots of discussions, exchange of news, loads of information. One particular part of their discussion caught my attention. One of the ladies, with a lot of interest, was sharing some interesting facts about cockroach. With a lot of amazement she was telling how a cockroach can run three miles in an hour and can change direction 25 times in a second. A cockroach could live a long time, perhaps a week without its head. There was nonstop excitement in her voice as she continued saying. “A cockroach has amazing adaptability. It can survive in any climate, in any house condition, inside any crack, etc. Its antennae, which rivals NASA’s Global Positioning System, helps it to locate other cockroaches with state of the art precision. Cockroach could be used to place surveillance device in the military installations. In fact, a cockroach can survive even an attack of atomic explosion. “

Suddenly, a cockroach flew from nowhere and sat on there. I wondered if this was the cockroach’s response to all the glory that was spoken about it! She started screaming out of fear. With panic-stricken face and trembling voice, she started doing stationary jumping, with both her hands desperately trying to get rid of the cockroach. Her reaction was contiguous, as everyone in the group got cranky to what was happening. The lady finally managed to push the cockroach on to another lady in the group. Now, it was the turn of the other lady to continue the drama. The waiter rushed forward to their rescue. In the relay of throwing, the cockroach next fell upon the waiter. The waiter stood firm, composed himself and observed its movement on his shirt. When he was confident enough, he grabbed it with his fingers and threw it out.

Sipping my coffee and watching the amusement,my mind picked up a few thoughts and started wondering, “Was the cockroach responsible for their histrionic behavior? If so, then, why the waiter was not perturbed? He handled it to near perfection, without any chaos. It is not the cockroach, but the inability of the ladies to handle the disturbance caused by the cockroach that disturbed the ladies.”

I realized, “Even in my case then, it is not the shouting of my father or my boss that disturbed me, but it is my ability to handle the disturbance caused by their shouting that disturbs me. It is not the traffic jams on the road that disturbs me, but it is my inability to handle the disturbance caused by the traffic jam that disturbs me. In all, it is not something that disturbs me, but the inability to handle the disturbance caused by that something that disturbs me. More than the problem, it is my reaction to the problem, which hurt me more.”

A natural question popped up in my mind, “Then, how do I outgrow this limitation?”

maybe I should not react, I should always respond. The woman reacted, whereas the waiter responded. Reactions are instinctive, whereas responses are intellectual. Between the stimuli (what happens me) and the response (what happens through me) if there is no gap, it creates reaction. But, between the stimuli and the response, if I use the gap to think and contemplate, then I can respond thoughtfully. :”

“An intelligent person responds; a fool reacts.”