Toiling away

Cook breakfast, lunch, pack lunch for everyone, wake everyone up at 6.30am, take bath, bathe children and prep them up for school, light lamp to wake God up, serve breakfast, send children off to school and husband to office and then finally eat breakfast, pack lunch for self, load up dirty dishes in the sink, clean kitchen, get ready, lock house, run to catch bus to reach work.

Looks scary but this is an itenrary that Dhanalaxmi aunty followed and toiled for twenty one years. No matter how much people drum or debate about home makers I still salute a working woman who balances home as well as work. Dhanalaxmi aunty was not exactly a looker but she was not ugly either. For some reason her parents believed otherwise and married her off to a short and squint guy who had a good government job just like her. All her life she regretted her parents hasty decision."Its not his looks," she said "Its the way he behaves. He has problems that I earn more than him. But he does not want me to quit. He just takes saddistic pleasure to taunt me at every single opportunity." Inspite of her so-called love less marriage she managed to have a son and a daughter. She loved them both more than her life because they were her only hope of joy. If there was a chance to escape her marriage then it was her children.

"My daughter is smart. Not pretty but smart. I am sure she will carve a name for herself in the society. And my son adores me. He takes my side all the time whenever my husband and I argue." She said. But fate had other plans.

In order to be able to concentrate on her children's education she moved to a house closer to her work place. She sent them to all tuition classes one can ever imagine. Against her husband's wishes she took leave from work and stayed home during her daughter's board exams. She did all that a mother does for her children. Maybe it was her attachment to her children or her growing ignorance towards her husband resentment in one way or the other grew. Smelling fued Dhanalaxmi aunty's husband decided to build a three storey home for himself. Three storey houses in place of one is a popular concept in Banagalore, India. People build three floors in place of one and then crib about water shortage. Talk about irony.

Anyways somewhere between building house and grwoing apart Dhanalaxmi aunty's daughter grew up way too fast for her age. Mother and daughter were more like friends who made plans together about the daughter's future. But somewhere along the way the dream shattered. One fine day Dhanalaxmi aunty's daughter came home with a guy she called husband. "He looks like a thug," were Dhanalaxmi aunty's words. I was shocked. We were all shocked. Dhanalaxmi aunty was shattered and so was her husband. Her husband wailed and cried right in the middle of the road as to how his daughter had painted his face black with soot. He cursed God for all the years he worshipped God. He blamed himself, he blamed his wife and by the time he was done he suffered a massive heart attack.

And just like that there Dhanalaxmi aunty was with one sick husband, one daughter who eloped and one son who was completely lost. From that day on Dhanalaxmi aunty's son started missing school. He failed crucial exams and one morning ran away from home. Dhanalaxmi aunty was so tired of tending to her husband, working and taking care of the house that she chose not to look for her son. She knew he would come back. He was always a little slow. She knew his fat belly would want him to return home to eat more.

And return he did and this time Dhanalaxmi aunty did not want to take chances so she sent him away to some swamiji's hostel where he is doing his diploma. To this day he calls her to rescue him from the hell hole but she refuses to do so. She says,"He has to reform Roopa. Or else he is not coming back. Let him wake up at 4.30am, take cold water showers, cook, study, and clean. Swamiji makes his students do what I should have made them do."

So much for being a good mother. So much for giving twenty one years of her life to a man she did not love and a marriage she did not beleive in and kids she thought loved her. The last time I met her she was half dead. I told her to quit and maybe retire in the country side where her spinster sister lived. She replied,"All these years my job was this one thing that kept me going. My work was loyal to me then and it is loyal to me now. I am going to work till the last day of my work life." About her daughter she said,"Oh! She lives in a slum. I visited her once. Her in laws agreed to return her if my husband and I gave our so-called son in law share in our property and let him live with us." I knew and she knew that it would never happen. Her daughter had tried to return she said but her husband sent her back. "Its crocodile tears," he said.

Dhanalaxmi aunty was alone with her husband. This is not how her dream was supposed to be. Her dream was supposed to have successful children, lots of grand children, husband who would finally shut up if not appreciate her.

It did not go the way she thought it would but for one thing that few weeks ago her husband finally shut up forever.

People say she did not cry. She just stood next to his body next to her son contemplating whether to let her daughter in or not. She chose not too. Not letting her see her father's face was Dhanalaxmi aunty's way of punisihng her daughter. Harsh I would say but then she was hurt and I can emphathize with that. And I shall not judge her. Period!

Dhanalaxmi aunty's sister who was a stay at home mom all her life struck her with her words,"Maybe you should have quit and been there for your children." Dhanalaxmi aunty cried hard but then a week later laughed harder because her sister's daughter eloped with even worse a demograph.

How much does being home or outside matter when it is fate that plays hard role. Today Dhanalaxmi aunty's dream is her ruling the household, not missing very much of a husband who was nothing more than a roommate to her, a son who visits her ocassionally but now understands his mother much better, her family, friends, and colleagues who visit her regularly, and finally an estranged daughter who still comes every week with her husband who hits her and creates a scene right outside Dhanalaxmi aunty's house. But Dhanalaxmi aunty chooses to be oblivious to all the drama and recently kicked her daughter out of the will. Pleased with her actions she is not exaclty where she would have wanted to be but then she does not regret the place she is in right now either.

"It is empty you know. The house." said Dhanalaxmi aunty. "It sometimes seems quiet but I call it tranquility." Saying so she pointed at the kitchen. The place where she toiled for twenty one years slaving for her husband and family. Today none of them is there with or for her. But she does not miss them very much. Somehow the reality of life sank into her long time ago. "I still toil you know," she said to me "But now I toil for myself. I was a good mother and a good wife. I did my duty. Maybe they did not deserve my loyalty or maybe it was my Karma. Since I am done doing what I could do I now toil for myself. I do charity after work, developed hobbies, bhajans, I try to catch up on things I once wanted to do. Its toiling but let me tell you this Roopa--The toiling is hard so is moving on. But its doable and its fun. And to my own surprise I am loving my new life. Thoroughly."

With that she smiled at me and handed me over a hot tumbler of coffee. Which we both sipped with great pleasure.

To aunty and the likes of her who spend lifetime raising families that somehow bail out on them and never come back!