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Hey guys, as I said, the maid is not coming today (and she didn’t even call), still, I am happy. Quite happy in fact. Why? I just don’t get it myself sometimes.
Didn’t I specifically instruct her to come pukka today? In a week full of running around to school, book club meets, movies, writing class, lectures etc.. today – a Wednesday bang in the middle of the week – was a relatively free day and I had decided to make the most of it. We were to change the bed sheets, wipe pigeon poo off the balcony railing, iron a few clothes, fry up the onion-garlic-ginger masala for multiple uses whenever and generally attempt a thorough clean up of neglected crevices – an absolute must what with continuous construction going on all around the so-called millennium city.
Then what’s with this smile on my face? Really! Gosh!
For starters, I am all by myself in my house with complete SILENCE filling the spaces around. And it’s rather soothing. Usually, by noon, I am fluttering around like a walkie-talkie instruction manual. Following up my follow-ups. Sitting down with a book one minute, rushing to the kitchen the next to give ‘Calm’wali Bai the new haldi packet. Then again, just as I am trying to imagine the most perfect ending to my short story, I have to get up: “Phenyl khatam ho gaya didi!” FCUK!!! If I am on the phone enjoying a particularly bitchy gossip session with my gal pal, you can bet your ass: ‘Gas khatam ho jayegi!!!’ You get the drift… straight out of Malice in Wonderland if you ask me!
In that way, today is different. I was able to seamlessly weave my story for the “Writing Workshop” assignment this morning. Then I just got into the groove and started writing some more. With no interruption, the words just flew. Soon I’ll get up for a tea break and make myself a soul-satisfying cup of ginger-kali mirch tea – just the way I like it.
Yes the beds have to be made, yes I can see some pigeon poo, yes the crevices need some working and yes, yes there’s a pile of clothes to be ironed. So what? I am strangely not bothered today. The sheer satisfaction of having all this peace and quiet to myself, where I can do some carefree writing and uninterrupted reading surmounts the need to stress about the mundane. The irony of ironies: the book I am about to begin is Maidless in Mumbai, a signed copy I won in a recent mommy competition. Lo kar lo baat! And my smile widens.
This is the thing with the mind, I guess it just adjusts to situations. What could have been a day of much fretting and fuming is panning out wonderfully as a day of fruitful engagement? When we do things we like, the chores that follow stop being chores. So I will thoroughly enjoy this “me time” and then get on with the basic duties. Specifically, preparing a hearty lunch for my son. Something on the lines of his favourite paneer pasta, a glass of pre-Navratra Pinot Noir in hand, imagining myself as the hot Bree Van de Kamp, even though I am still in my very ghati batik nightie. In fact, that reminds me, I need to try out this organic whole wheat fettuccine I picked up from Fabindia. Perhaps a tomato-carrot soup to go with it, topped with lots of fried garlic, chopped coriander, a dollop of butter and a dash of Maggi masala! Drool!
The “smelling to high heavens onion paste” will just have to wait. That’s a bit much in this heat. No amount of lathering Fiama peach & avocado gel can truly get that ‘frying’ smell out of your pores. So it’s strictly “maid territory” and will happen when the maid happens.
Till then let me just revel in precious solitude. I am looking forward to lunching and laughing with my little boy as we slurp pasta watching Impractical Jokers. I am looking forward to having a siesta in the afternoon. I am also looking forward to applying a range of gooey concoction that I invent in the kitchen on my face, bindaas without worrying about the maid giving me a creepy look! I am looking forward to a day I don’t have to plan each and every minute of.
Having said that, I am also looking forward to welcoming my maid with open arms tomorrow morning sharp at 6 am. One day without her is FUN, two days..not so much. For then reality hits you, and hard.
But that’s tomorrow, till then “I’ll not count the days, but make the day count!” Time to forget the whine, sip some wine and whip up some pasta frenzy…
Image via Pixabay
Published short story writer-Feature Writer-Blogger-Author-Mother-Human-Work in Progress!! Gunjan Pant
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