Women in my life, and Chores

As I labored throughout yesterday to wash a turmeric stain out of my clothes, I wondered how much hard work my mom does for this. This was a feeling that grew stronger with each moment. It was while, I was listening to Amanda Palmer’s “Confessions of a Mother”, that it finally hit me.
I have always abhorred doing these chores, and somehow the duty always fell to my grandmother and my mother. It was easy really, throughout my childhood I had seen them doing these works and I thought, “Well, maybe they will be doing it forever.”
That was regressive of me.
But, I guess that is how it goes. You get used to it. Your mom is washing your clothes, your grandmother is filling your water bottles. Somewhere in between you start to think that it IS a woman’s job to do these things. The worst thing being, that you pass that on, to your friends, to your children.
Also, somewhere it is because of the mollycoddling, somewhere every mother is responsible for that one vice towards their children. So, even when you are a child you are never taught these things. Until, one fine day you are just supposed to do it by yourself. That’s when you turn into this bitter teenager.
“How do I do this?”
“Do it.”

Simple as that.
However, we abuse our sisters because of this too. For, it is so easy since, they do it all by themselves from an early age. You do that with your peers, who are very diligent about these chores, and it becomes a simple method for you. You push your work to someone else. Till date, I have not washed my jeans by hand, and I have always relied on my mother for that particular task. It seems funny really. I am growing old, sitting in a hostel, living alone, and soon enough I might have to live completely alone for the rest of days. Yet, I would still rely on the female members of my household to do this task.e of this too. For, it is so easy since, they do it all by themselves from an early age and you push the load onto them. You do that with your peers, who are very diligent about these chores, and it becomes a simple method for you. You push your work to someone else. Till date, I have not washed my jeans by hand, and I have always relied on my mother for that particular task. It seems funny really. I am growing old, sitting in a hostel, living alone, and soon enough I might have to live completely alone for the rest of days. Yet, I would still rely on the female members of my household to do this task.

How long till is transfers to babies then? I doubt I will ever have a female partner, but, if I do, it will be easy to say, “You change the baby, I will take it to travel.”. Knowing myself, I will be inept in both of them equally, yet, washing seems to be filthy and tiresome work.
I mean my mom calls up and tells me that I could just give the shirts to a laundry for washing but, she would never do that by herself. And that creates this bad habit in me. I expect that my work will be done by someone else. It’s scary that we will make generations after generations like this.

You know what? You could stop today too. You could simply, walk out and decide that “Hey, I am going to wash those clothes, and clean the floor of my room.”, “Maybe, I will fill the water bottle too.”

This, is a issue that needs to be resolved within yourself, and that will help you with it always. So, that’s part of what I plan to do from now on, share the workload.

I am joining the Ariel #ShareTheLoad campaign at BlogAdda and blogging about the prejudice related to household chores being passed on to the next generation.

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“Doctor Strangelove”, politics

While watching “Doctor Strangelove”, this morning I appreciated Kubrick more and more. There was so much of a storyteller in that man, and those characters were so greatly etched. It was quite something I guess. However, the entire situation involving the cold war brought me to the stalemate of a situation we have here right now.

The world has faced disaster after disaster, and the only reason there has been a lack of mass scale retaliation is because the civilian loss would be too much to bear. But, heck, that does not mean there are no mad generals brandishing their phallic cigars and telling them to go ahead and do it. “Catching them with their pants down”, a General quips in the movie. It’s real though, it is happening even at this point of our time, even though the Cold War has been over for a long while.

However, you do not sympathise with the president either, he is trying to be soft with everyone when he should be tough. He is someone who is diplomatic towards the enemy and angry towards his own people. He is someone who is trying to find the best of the situation even though he remains blissfully unaware of the things happening all around him.

I guess, that is what is strange about the movie, the caricatures have all become real at this point of time. We are living with characters which follow these caricatures perfectly, and we are just waiting for a Strangelove to come around and offer a solution which would be so so tempting to us. We would probably forget our morality for a week, just to get that blowjob, and then it will all be over.

The ultimate story of life, ending in failure because our lusts guide us to a place which is worse. I don’t get that.

But, I guess, it is the reality of our times, and we are all caricatures, and we are going to end up being novelised again as the generations come. And the funny thing, it won’t be our fault either. We would be like the civilians in the movie, unaware, and literally caught with their pants down.

Why I don’t write Love Letters

I had the misfortune of stopping by the “Love Letters” category on this blog yesterday. one fledging letter, written to a girl that I was pretty sure, I had fallen for last year. It didn’t work out of course, but, that was there, and it is hazy and scary and everything all at once. Maybe, that is why I do not write love letters, because I am always vague, and barely, if ever, do I see a person rather than seeing a celestial entity before me, something which encompasses everything for me, philosophy to poetry to science.

I am scared about it really. That is the heart of the matter which beats out in perfect unison to everything. I am scared that some times I would overreach myself and end up hurting someone who is close to me, and some days I am afraid that I will end up hurting someone who is near to me.

Moreover, it is the nature of love for me. The fact that I always see it as a way to deal with my own demons. My love for writing an affront to my demon that is self harming, my love for a person dealing with my demon of loneliness. It gets to me, love is not a problem solver, and you do not end up feeling better just after falling in love. One of the weirdest things in this belief that somehow loving will cure us of our depressions. It doesn’t.
The love letters remain as a reminder of that want, of wanting to solve all our problems in one single way. To solve everything in the world with a person.

No person matches up to that. Love doesn’t do that.

So, yes, though I planned a proposal this valentines, I am giving it up. I am depressed now, I crashed four-five times in two weeks and I habe no way to get out of that. So, yes, I am giving up. I am sorry that I have to…