It takes me less than 10 seconds to go from zero (absolute normal self) to boiling point level. And usually it happens to me over the most lame topics one can imagine. Like the one I am about to blog about. But it did manage to jolt me up.
Two days back, I bought a dozen Alphonso mangoes (along with week’s grocery) on my way back from office. Now, mangoes are not my passion food nor am I a foodie. It was just a little more work that I did that day – a box of mangoes, which were “the season’s best” as assured by the shopkeeper. So I felt very good about getting those mangoes at Rs 180 (for 12 pieces).
Back home, I even skipped dinner to dig my teeth into “season’s best” mangoes. The conflict began when my husband brushed those off as “just another variety of mangoes.” Worse, he continued, “You should have waited for another 10 days, the prices would have been cheaper and quality would have better.”
This last one really got me going.
I am the one who went out to buy the mundane groceries and drag all of that back home in anticipation that hubby dear would appreciate the pain. But he brushed it off as ‘no big deal!’ WOW. The mangoes didn’t really leave a great taste, as you’d have figured until now.
But on the hindsight, I came face-to-face to a new fact. You don’t realise this, but it happens to most of us. We somewhere along the line begin to emulate our mothers (in case of married women, that is) and aunties, whom we looked upon as ones from past generation with regressive ideas.
I remember how my mom who always cribbed about her never-ending chores around the house and getting no appreciation in return (she has been a proud home-maker all her life) used to irk us (me and my elder sister) so much when we were kids. My mom did all shopping, grocery, budget management, and a endless list of stuff. My father, like million other Indian father, was never really involved in the realms of running the household. In a way it was never expected of him too. He was the male member in an Indian household who was applauded and lathered with affection for every single rupee earned, every vacation that he arranged for us, every long drive in a shiny Maruti 800 he gave us & mom, every birthday party he asked mom to arrange for his daughters, and every restaurant he took us to.
Mom, silently, cooked the lavish birthday party buffets, managed the picnic baskets on the long drive, packed those thoughtful paper napkins and cups for every single train vacation, and efficiently spent the monthly budgets on knick-knacks to dress up her daughters to restaurants. We never even gave those actions a second thought!
Today, if my ‘extra work’ of grocery and shopping for my home doesn’t get me the required attention and appreciation, I flare up! I can only call up my mom now and tell her subtly that I have learnt everything about running a house from her including balancing professional and personal commitments.
She’s the hero we never thanked. WOW!