We are all familiar with the story of Savitri and Satyavan. We do love our husbands. We do pray for their long life and good health. But we also take them for granted. Unknowingly. This anonymous woman’s story tries to amend that. At least for a day.
I send him to the store to buy just one loaf of bread. And he comes back with all the assorted snacks that are available in the store. I ask him to buy half a kg of tomatoes on his way back home. I repeat this three times just before he leaves for work. And he comes back with one and a half kg of red ripe tomatoes. Yeah. I know. It’s the same story everywhere.
But I have to admit this. He makes the best biryani in town. I do all the washing, peeling, cutting, chopping etc. And he will simply toss the whole thing expertly. By the time he finishes making the biryani – my temper – has gone for a super duper toss too. The kitchen looks as if a mini-tsunami wreaked havoc in it. I look at the mess and clutch my heart. I can see one hour of my time going down the kitchen sink!
My man is oblivious to the colourful emotions that adorn my face. He brews himself a frothy cup of “Kumbakonam degree coffee”, opens up the crisp neatly folded Sunday Times of India and settles down to read the global news for the next hour – while I do all the scrubbing and cleaning. My temper evaporates gradually as the kitchen is moulded back into shape by my loving hands. I stop glaring at him and give him a small smile. I still say nothing to him. I smile a little more widely at him as I take a huge second helping. The biryani is delicious. I tell him that. He just expands his chest like Hanuman, curls his Charlie Chaplin moustache and smirks all through the day. I love him. I appreciate the fact that he helps me with all the household chores and in the kitchen too. So I forgive him.
But he is a man after all. Like all other men he too will turn a deaf ear to all the nagging and nitpicking that I do. Like all other men, he too will make a superb falooda of my “ijjat” in front of the wrong set of people.
Now, I don’t know much about the other men here. But my man has all the time in the world to read about the economy of the world. He has all the time in the world to watch Katrina Kaif dancing on the damned TV set for the nth time every single day. But he is very economical about his time when it comes to reading my articles. He will skim, scan and zoom through the page within a microsecond and say, “Fine. It looks okay!” He will then scratch his head and wonder why I have gone into mute mode again.
Yeah. I know. It is the same story everywhere. But we women must realize that our men do take very good care of us in their own way. They may have minimal, negligible or the wrong set of communication skills. But they cater to all our whims and fancies too. They will eat the same thing for three consecutive days without complaining when we are sick or in a foul mood. They will take us out for long drives even if they are dead tired just to make us happy. They may not understand us all the time. But they support us at all times.
They are like the banyan trees in Savitri’s and Satyavan’s story. Quiet. Calm. Composed. Anchored. Shady and always welcoming. They take care of so many aspects of our homes. More often than not we are not even aware of such things. All the bills are paid on time. The insurance policies are in place. The documents are always updated and filed properly. They work like crazy to keep us in comfort. They always have a smile for us despite the immense professional stress that they experience.
We would feel so so so lost without all the men in our lives – our fathers, brothers, husbands, sons etc. And they feel equally lost without us too. They will look like lost puppies when and if we ever fall sick. They will take our temperature a dozen times in a day. They will make ‘kichdi’ for us just the way we like it. They will zip zap and zoom to the same market at different times of the day to buy different things as and when it strikes them. They will buy fruits that will last us a lifetime. They will not know what is kept where in the kitchen. We can sense the flurry of nervousness on their faces.
The poor man has not eaten a proper meal all through the day. I feel sad for him. I gather all the strength that I have in my body and walk into the kitchen. One look at my precious domain and I almost faint. I am forced to recover. Immediately. “Two dozen apples? Why did you buy so many of them? Who will eat them?” I ask my man weakly.
I can see him sweating profusely as he unpacks all the things that he has just bought from the market again. He looks at me sheepishly, puts his foot squarely in his mouth and says, “I have to host a training session on Monday.” I look at him in total exasperation and say “So you want me to eat all these apples and get well soon? So that you can report for work on time on Monday?” He looks at me cockily and says just one word, “Yes!”
That’s the way all men always are. There is no doubt about that. At all. Yet, we love them, respect them and care for them. A lot. I’ll say this again. They are the banyan trees of our lives. Quiet. Calm. Cool. Composed. Shady. Ever willing to help and welcoming. We must accept that. Let’s just respect that and be more conscious of all the little things that they do for us. At least for one day. Today. Tomorrow? Ah. Well – tomorrow can take very good care of itself.
And for all the men who are reading this: Take what you get today. You may not get this kind of ‘goody goody’ treatment every day. I’m sure you don’t want to bite off more than you can chew!