We once had a short debate on maids and their contribution to our busy lives in our girls’ Whatsapp chat group. The majority opined that we needed them as much as they needed us. We hire them because our education can contribute more meaningfully to society. We delegate domestic chores, creating jobs for many skilled and unskilled workers. Some said their maids are the lifelines they cannot forgo. My agreement with them was only partial. An alternate view had found equal strength in my thought stream. Why should someone walk distances to come and do our domestic work? I understand that it is not practical to be entirely self-sufficient in a world of interdependency. But shouldn’t family units hold self-sufficiency in higher esteem and at least experiment in some ways? I have often tried and experienced unlimited joy in self-reliance.
But quite contrary to my stand, I have hired maids most of my life. However, there have been very long spells of several months to even three years when I have not had maids. These would be the times when I would have shifted residence or may have terminated her services due to excessive uninformed absence, disturbing my work flow. After that, I wouldn’t look for another person, getting used to the routine without help. It gave me a sense of accomplishment, fitness, and a feeling of ‘all things in control’ taking away unwanted shocks, uncertainties, and disappointments owing to another’s habitual absence. I made these conscious choices without complaints because I knew I could comfortably rely on my work plan, which I had fixed early in the day or the day before. I could go out any time of the day for any length of time, not pushing myself to get back home in a hurry just to let my house-help inside. It felt like absolute freedom.
The lockdown kept all types of people, social or not, on house arrest. Although dressing up for special occasions was always much loved, the uneventful weeks spent in old pajamas were comfortable in many ways. The projected TikTok videos where people yearned to dress up seemed more of an entertainment. The mind was busy wandering to every creative idea and opening up to thoughts, including the anxious variety, keeping it alive with a self-sermon to appreciate the present.
The kids, now adults, were living with us, addressing their own needs and discovering their unique ways to equilibrium. I insisted upon a standard lunchtime but seldom achieved it. They believed it did not work in our home because it was not in practice from the start. So I trailed memory lanes, scanning the past to identify where we went wrong. Can we correct it now? Before mealtimes, I religiously knocked on their bedroom doors to find out if they could join us. You guessed it right, my attempts met with partial success!
They constantly complained that we are serious type parents and need to be more fun-loving. To indulge them and and make reparations, we began to play cards or watch movies daily. The challenge was our preoccupations with gadgets made it most difficult to find a time suitable for all! But whenever we did, we watched a very different movie of their choice. Movies with an intricate plotline, demanding focussed attention and still challenged comprehension, were the ones they chose. On one occasion, we watched Shutter Island. As it was past midnight when the film ended, we quickly hit the sack. The following day my son went thus, “you guys didn’t discuss the movie after it got over and just crashed.” He went on to explain the deeper plot we failed to catch in the film. On another occasion, they played nonstop music of their choice and nudged me to dance, which I did sportingly, winning their appreciation for my freestyle rhythm. They were the applauding audience of my dance show; it felt good.
Despite espousing self-sufficiency, I admit having live-in help through out the lockdown. It made me feel thankful and guilty at the same time, watching the rest of the world saddled with unusual domestic chores. But I also sensed a crucial loss seeing my family deprived of the compulsion to participate in household chores! Although deemed unenviable at face value, during these testing times entire families world over plunged into domestic activities and absorbed fresh and eternal life lessons in the bargain. At least, that was the perception we got from social media. A once in a lifetime opportunity that comes, rarely by choice but only accidentally, leaving everyone enriched unimaginably! The fact that bonding happens better through shared domestic chores is unquestionable. Doing household chores may be difficult for the uninitiated, but it is not life-threatening like Covid! For me, it’s certainly therapeutic. But someone, for now, at home, alights angel-like and does all the work. Should I be grateful or complain? I am utterly confused!
If anyone talked minimalism, I promptly nodded in agreement. But good food remained a constant weakness. Exotic or straightforward, just one creative dish a day kept the mind, body and taste buds stimulated. It was either my daughter(mostly her) donning the chef cap or me on a given day. Sometimes I would assist her in making gourmet recipes, and sometimes, she would ask me to disappear, preferring a solo culinary expedition. Once in a while, it's a necessary thing for us humans!
She had some online exams going on and wanted to make a particular variety of cookies on her own as a stress buster. It required separating the yolks from egg whites and whisking them independently. She was doing a skilful job of separation at the outset, when breaking the shell. But in my motherly enthusiasm, I gave her an egg-yolk-separator. The untrustworthy yolk happened to be weak and fell right through merging with the whites. Our young adult was upset, and I, of course, made myself invisible!
She later told me that she was more disturbed because I told her it was “okay”; it might not make a big difference to the final output!! To her, who had researched the ‘tiramisù’ recipe in detail, my “scant regard” to a crucial non-negotiable process was unsettling. The finger-like cookies looked perfect to my forgiving eyes. However, she revealed that it was only the base for the dessert and planned to initiate the second stage the following day. The cookies were left unpampered in the refrigerator for some days. Tempted, I was to taste it but restrained myself thinking she would start the subsequent process soon when her mood for the exotic returned. After a few days, it had disappeared altogether! “Hmmm, it turned soggy”, she sighed, quite unable to hide her sheepish grin when quizzed! I sensed a dilemma common to all moms: whether they should offer ideas on better functionality in any process or park them as to each their own, learning from the omnipresent know-all Google and firsthand experiences. Fortunately, as a mother, I guess I am not alone.
However, to our delight (my husband included), we have seen a new side to her creativity in this period, enjoying her endless delicacies day after day! She ropes in my son too (whom I’ve taught basic no-frills cooking) to learn a thing or two more in the kitchen; needless to say, how that one aspect delights most mothers—young boys in the kitchen breaking gender barriers.
Learning to play card games, dancing to music, and watching movies of our kids’ choice enthralled us through the lockdown with special homemade wine experimented by my husband to keep our highs in place. With the onset of Corona, our past lifestyles had left us unceremoniously, the future seen as a bag of possibilities, and only the present proved as our loyal eternal partner. And how we learnt to embrace it optimally and enthusiastically, accepting the universe never makes mistakes, made our lockdown stories of wholesome nourishment and entertainment. I am sure every fortunate family that escaped the dreadful virus would have similar stories to regale.
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