Domestic (Un)Help

I never ever thought that this would be a topic of discussion for my blog. I mean who talks about domestic help anyways? Old boring aunties and my mother: that's who. And now I belong to one of them (either category is as scary as the other so I can't decide; you take your pick). But after having walked the walk (read: doing my work on my own) I feel the need to discuss this very important issue. And by work I'm not talking about small things like serve my own food and put my clothes neatly. I'm talking about the big stuff: like sweeping and washing clothes and all.

What happened was that one fine day, moushi (that's Marathi for aunty, and that's what we used to call her as is the norm with maharashtrians) decided that she'd had enough working and wanted to now rest at home and so she stopped coming to work. No intimation, no nothing. There should be a law against this, like the one on the corporate world: one month's notice is mandatory. From either side I agree, but a law for sure. So. Moushi stopped coming and my house went for a toss. Mom works (doctor) and so everyone leaves by like 9.30 and so most importantly, everyone was expected to put in their bit till a new domestic help was hired. Mom took the kitchen, kiki took the making-the-beds (which she doesn't do anyways. she just pulls the bed sheet extra tight so it looks made: the cheat!), dad took the "general supervision" (????) and I got stuck with the sweeping-the-floor and washing the clothes. (Thank GADGET-GOD we have a washing machine and one that is as of now working, and still continues to work despite me operating it for the last 3 days: guess he finally had some pity on me!). Sadly we do not have a auto-sweeper (has anyone invented one yet? I'm not talkin vacuum cleaner: doesn't work for India. I'm talking like an automatic-wet-floor-sweeper.)

This whole episode made me realize that domestic help though is called help – can be quite an un-help (a word coined by me that means in short: opposite of help). They have their own tantrums (holiday tomorrow or I quit; tea+breakfast or I quit; raise pay or I quit: u get the point) and they have their own moods and they have their own politics (this is my sister's husband's sister's daughter's father's son's wife. Hire her instead of your current maid for xyz work or I quit!). True, they are the ones that literally run the house, and true that if they decide that nothing should function in the house then it won't. Makes for almost blackmailing – do what I want or I quit! And as far as I can see there is only one solution: legalize the whole damn procedure, all the way from hiring to firing to quitting. Like a domestic-help act or something. And make sure that people follow it so that we poor kids, so unaware of all these hassles do not have to face the trauma of doing work (until we actually get married: which is another trauma in itself and an issue to be discussed at a later time!)

Anyways, go-to-go now: washing machine's beeping! Hail Gadget-God!! :D

Until next time…

Gadget-God

There is some God up there, in charge of all gadgets and electric thingies who does not like me. We never got along, them electric gadgets and I. it all started when I was in my first year of engineering. We were supposed to write programs in the lab as practical assignments and then take printouts of the same. It was one of those dot printer LX-something-something. It used to print everybody else's programs properly, sometimes even extra dark. But the moment it was my turn something would khiskao its silly brain and it would stop working. Sometimes the ribbon was screwed, sometimes the paper would get jammed and most of the times the problem was unexplainable. It would just stop. Phhooossshh… a noise like that and there you go. Nothing and I mean NOTHING could make it work. And then the printer and PC at home started acting up. Just getting hung for no rhyme or reason and behaving in general very difficult.

This week after all my gadgets (no re, not those gadgets!) stopped working I started thinking. Cell, laptop, earphones, T.V… you name it and it's frigging not working! Then I realized that there is some force that can't be reckoned with: some God up there who just does not like me! Kiki says that there is nothing like a Gadget-God and that I am plain simple electronic-gadget-illiterate! But I beg to differ, and have decided that I am going to donate a mouse (the electric variety and not the animal variety) or something like that (am still trying to locate a temple of Gadget-God) so that my bad luck goes away and he likes me again.

And if that doesn't work out, then I'm going to hire a gadget-manager who can manage all my thingies (as in GADGETS!) for me! Someone, who knows how to talk their talk and walk their really irritating walk. I know that would be conning them, not really letting them know that it's my work being done, but I guess they leave me no choice.

Until next time…