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Does only a super clean house make a worthy woman? What if I wanted to do more fulfilling things instead of dusting and mopping everyday?
My mother surprised me with a visit this month. I was overwhelmed to see her and we both hugged as she entered my home. It had been a long time since she saw me.
On entering, the first thing she said was,“You don’t take care of yourself, see how thin you look.”
I smiled and said, “Mom, I am not thin, see! How wonderfully I have maintained myself.”
“Haan-Hann today’s girls…”, she began and then stopped all of sudden. Her smile faded and I saw her eyes examining my house.
“What is this Ritu? Your house looks scattered and unorganized. There are toys all over the floor. There is a layer of dirt settled on this vase. The ceiling fans are so dirty, as if haven’t cleaned since a few months.”
“Mom please don’t start all this. I was very exhausted last night, so I went directly to sleep without assembling the toys. I had cleaned this vase just the day before yesterday, and can’t you see I am not tall enough to reach the ceiling fan to clean them, even with the help of a stool? Rohit has promised to help me as soon as he gets free,” I said.
“Do not give me excuses Ritu. You should keep your house clean. Anyone can come anytime. What if your mother-in-law would have come, instead of me? She would have loaded you with taunts,” my mom said as she got picking up the toys.
“Mummy its 6 AM. The day has just started. Soon Nevaan will get up, I have to cook for him, make breakfast and lunch. I can’t just jump on to cleaning my house. After completing the important household work, I give an hour daily to clean and dust the house. Leave the toys, I will pick them up later. Have a cup of tea,” I said.
My mom gave me an angry look, as she sipped her tea, sitting on the sofa.
“You are a lazy homemaker Ritu. Just look at me. I used to get up at 5 am. I never kept a maid and did all the cleaning, sweeping and dusting by myself. After making breakfast, I would send you and your brother to school, and your father to office. I used to clean the sofa, kitchen platform, dining table, fridge and flower vases every day. Every month I would clean the ceiling fans, drawers, cupboards, and shelves. My house would dazzle like a diamond. I thought you would be my shadow, but you aren’t”, my mother complained.
I remained silent for a few minutes and then broke my silence, “I am sorry mom. I am not your shadow and I never want to be. I do not want to spend my 50 years just cleaning my house and waiting for someone to come and appreciate me. I have many other things to do. I am a doctor. I give 2 hours daily to my clinic, I am a writer and in spite of wasting my time in cleaning a already cleaned house.
I would prefer writing some masterpiece. I am ambitious and I have to push my career. I am a mother who wants to play with her child, and to help him with his homework rather than picking his toys every half hour. I am a wife who just can’t spend her whole time serving her husband, cleaning his clothes and making his bed. I want to go with him on a long drive and candle light dinner. I am a human being who prefers to sleep when exhausted, rather than picking up toys before going to bed.
I love you mom for whatever you did for us. But mom, I can’t be you. I have many important things to do than to waste 6 hours of a day and 50 years of my life cleaning my home. Cleaning can wait for some time. The bed can be made a little later, but I don’t want to miss precious moments in my life, nor can I compromise with my health.
Twenty five years I have spent with you. It was only occasionally that someone would visit you uninformed and suddenly. In my case, if someone comes, including my mother in law, I really don’t bother what they think or how they judge me on seeing a few scattered toys, clothes or little dust on flower vases.
I am proud of myself because I am a friendly wife and a caring mom. I am good doctor and an appreciated writer. I am happy and contented with these titles.”
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A passionate writer. Homeopathic physician and nutritionist by profession read more...
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Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Being a writer, Nivedita Louis recognises the struggles of a first-time woman writer and helps many articulate their voice with development, content edits as a publisher.
“I usually write during night”, says author Nivedita Louis during our conversation. Chuckling she continues,” It’s easier then to focus solely on writing. Nivedita Louis is a writer, with varied interests and one of the founders of Her Stories, a feminist publishing house, based in Chennai.
In a candid conversation she shared her journey from small-town Tamil Nadu to becoming a history buff, an award-winning author and now a publisher.
Nivedita was born and raised in a small town in Tamil Nadu. It was for schooling that she first arrived in Chennai. Then known as Madras, she recalls being awed by the city. Her love-story with the city, its people and thus began which continues till date. She credits her perseverance and passion to make a difference to her days as a vocational student among the elite sections of Madras.
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