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Weekends are to give you a break, let you relax and get ready for the next week. But the author’s weekend for different all together.
I was looking forward for an exciting weekend as I was going to my favorite Khadi exhibition called Dastkaar, then to a colleague’s daughter’s birthday party, walkathon and zumba in my building. Yes it all sounded good. But then I realized that I would have to clean my house after work so that it wouldn’t be on my list for the weekend.
I am like Monica from Friends TV Show where I suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). I like things to be clean and organized. I don’t trust maids with my antiques and collectibles from around the world. The clothes would have to be washed, the ironing guy needed a day to get them ironed and my son’s homeworks needed completion. He was tired of having daily Independence Day dance practices. Imagine after an entire day of school, instead of playing with your friends, you have to go for dance practice everyday for one whole hour.
I am sorry but the teachers don’t understand that a 7 year old also has a life and needs time alone to develop his imagination and play. I am also strict with my son as I know he has the capabilities to do well in studies and I ensure he does his homework everyday. I don’t expect him to be a topper but I know he is intelligent and 30 minutes of studies everyday would help him a lot. The birthday party was important as it was going to be the first time my bosses would meet my husband and my son. I had to make a good impression. Yes it seems silly but it was important.
Anyway as I rambled on, I did my laundry and cleaned my house after office for a few days. It was tiring but I was looking forward for the weekend. Then bang and boom. My son had two tough tests on Monday and Tuesday. The science chapters looked very difficult. The scrapbook activities looked equally tiring. But I was determined. I would coax my son, scold him, plead him until after many short spans of revisions, he learnt the science chapters and the spellings.
Yes I had succeeded. but then my son started complaining about his lunch and snack and he wanted something very different. Usually I plan tiffin and lunch for my son during the weekend. Now my son wanted something very different like maggi instead of paratha for lunch and apples instead of cake for snacks. I was shocked but I said yes, I would change his menu. Every step in the weekend, I would coax him to carry out the next activity.
This entailed waking up early on a Sunday morning to go for a 4 km walkathon with my neighbours. Initially it was exciting. I was up and walking. We did the warm ups and then we did the Zumba. I walk daily but these exercises were tough. Every muscle in my body was aching. I never knew I had so many muscles that had not moved for such a long time. I am a 37 year old woman. I was in pain.
Then as I came home, my husband complained about how last week because of my work pressure, he was tired of eating maggi along with chicken curry. I am a feminist and I asked him why didn’t he cooked something else for himself. But then he does not know how to make chappatis but he is a good chef. I just did not want to give up. I came back and cooked rice, chappati, dal, aloo curry and chicken curry.
I also mopped and sweeped the floors. I ensured my son finished his homework that he forgot to tell me. Thanks to School Whatsup Group where they alert me about homeworks and tests. My husband was organizing the walkathon, so he was busy downstairs. But thanks to woman power, I managed to finish all my tasks.
Then I just collapsed in the afternoon. I went off to sleep for an hour and that was heavenly bliss. My ankles were paining. I was in pain. But my weekend pictures looked great. Yes I love taking pictures and posting them on Facebook. I don’t care what others say. I work hard and I love to dress up and show the same on Facebook.
This whole week I had been wondering about what to write about in Women’s Web. I am addicted to this website as I feel each of their articles are different and thought provoking. I usually look up to my experiences to write on. I mix with a varied group of people irrespective of their caste etc. I am not popular. I just value everyone’s individuality.
Now I am sitting and writing about my crazy weekend. I just sent my son to another birthday party and the grocery is yet to be purchased. But all I am thinking that as a woman we never get a break from life. There is always so much to do in spite of your ankle paining. Life never gives you a break. I may be tired but at least I got to pen down my thoughts about my life. Why is it that we women never get to relax. Even the trip to the exhibition was not a relaxing one as my son would rather have popcorns and candy floss than letting me browse through khadi products that people have made with a lot of effort.
Today one of my friend who has some very powerful contacts is going to the police commissioner and the chief minister to get her divorce and that seems more important to her; while we middle class women toil and work hard to keep our family happy. And I look at the pictures of the flooding in Kerala and feel bad for the people who lost their homes and loved ones. At least I have my home and my family. I am blessed but still a part of me is thinking that I am so tired in pleasing my family. I am tired. Why cant my son do his homework on his own for once or why can’t my husband just be quiet.
I love to write on women's issues. I strongly believe that every woman is
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