I wish I were a Male…
The last time I uttered this statement in some context (I
forget what) was to a friend of mine, who seriously thought I was talking about
a getting a gender change. It was rather
hilarious. No. even now I am not implying a gender transformation. I just wish
I were born a male as life would have been much easier…
Why I wished so this morning was totally due to utter
despair and irritation. 8’O clock on a Monday morning in a working household
needs no particular explanation. But in the absence of a maid and the presence
of hungry family members, and in the instance of a late morning start, not to
mention a clogged sink, the kitchen becomes a literal battlefield. There I was,
hurriedly creating lunch, and breakfast simultaneously, while supervising a
whole lot of other chores I had to get done before starting the day’s work
within the hour, when an unexpected guest drops in and my father insensitively
places an order for two cups of hot tea- one black and one normal (remember,
‘athithi devo bhava’.... Any other circumstances, I would have been only too
happy to whip up a cuppa, but well… happy or not, I had no other option. Things
would have been left at that and I still would have been happy to be a member
of the fair sex, had I served the tea within a span of 8 minutes. But the lack
of a fourth gas stove burner had slowed down my task and on the 9th
minute, in walks my octogenarian dad with a grandiose statement of “has someone
gone to the market to buy tea leaves or what? Why is the tea getting late?”
That did it.. That just did it!!! Male readers
might be wondering what the fuss is all about, but I’m sure most of my lady
readers would empathize with me. Inwardly
I was fuming...ready to burst at another provocation, but with great effort I
restrained myself from blowing up (waste of energy and presence of guest) and smilingly
served the tea in the 10th minute. Seething with anger born out of a
vague sense of total helplessness, I sincerely wished I were born a male.
My reasons for this are quite
practical. For one, if I were a male, I
wouldn’t have had to worry about cooking or cleaning or washing or ironing or other
such mundane every day thankless activities that are so very essential to keep
the house running on oiled wheels… I wouldn’t have to worry about what to
prepare for lunch and dinner while making breakfast. I wouldn’t have to run outside
to get the washing from the clothesline at the first drop of unexpected rain in
the midst of spluttering mustard seeds for the breakfast chutney and neither
would I have to worry about the pile of washed clothes that have to be folded
up and shoved into cupboards at 10:30 in the night when I’m dying to go to
sleep. Well friends, it is not all about what I wouldn’t have to do… I could
wake up one lovely rainy morning and take off for a long drive with my thoughts
to keep me company if I wished… I could laze around in the sofa watching TV
half the day and demanding endless cups of hot tea after which I could go back
to sleep… I could work at office the
whole day and come back to a neat and tidy home with hot food on the table… (The list could go on and on).
Well.. ‘If wishes were horses,
beggers would fly’, as the popular English proverb goes.. and since my wish has
acute limitations, I guess I would sit back contented to be a lady all my life,
and reap a whole lot of benefits hitherto unavailable to my male friends…
