What do women want .......a wife?

 A question that is asked across continents and ages...men unable to find answer or maybe not wanting to find an answer...to the simplest and most basic question ever....What do women want?  Let me start with the famous line ... ‘Men are from Mars and women are from Venus, ..which is utter nonsense as it promotes the notion that men and women want different things, what we forget is the underlying similarity between men and women ...that both are humans thereby basic needs remain same.

Now, I am not going to be all philosophical in the blog but I have realised that what women want is something that can not be bought but is available to most men throughout life.....what women want is simply a wife.... . ( I am neither promoting same sex relationship nor am against it ...to each his/ her own way of living). I meant the concept of wife .... just think of the ways wives makes life easy for men around the world. She takes away the mundane, boring routine tasks from her husband and gives him interesting tasks at home and also gives him due credit , sometimes even on social networks , for helping to manage things at his own house. Can you imagine a husband writing a thank you note for the wife earning to share expenditures of home every month ? But that’s what a wife does normally when the hubby cooks or cleans... . You see , even I have tasks divided in my patriarchal mindset...household for women and earning for men. 

Doing same tasks everyday gets on our nerves, reduces creativity and makes us irritable. How I wish someone could take over tasks like doing laundry, picking up kids toys and placing them at right place, arrange their cupboards and school stuff and other numerous non ending household chores,  so that I am left with energy and mindset to play and dance with kids... something my husband finds time for. A mother is left with cleaning the mess and arranging basic needs and a father becomes a hero because he can make kids enjoy. A woman easily becomes tired, boring and a joy killer. So, I am pretty sure that a woman needs a .....wife - someone she can rely on. Someone whose presence ensures that home front runs smoothly, someone who doesn’t make her feel guilty of having me time or time with friends sometimes, someone who is there for her to take care of her when she is tired, sick or moody like a wife does for husband. So basically she needs a person who takes away her worries and makes her feel she can do what she wants without being boggled by taking burdens of house chores alone. What a woman does often remains unnoticed because it’s a part of everyday household tasks, nothing visibly different, so she doesn’t get that appreciation which makes her feel unloved, so a woman needs a wife to feel loved, appreciated and acknowledged because let’s be honest - husband forget and never say the right words.

So dear world, don’t just give her freedom to pursue her dreams, give her a guilt free environment to enjoy her life ... give her the feeling that her world that is her house wouldn’t crumble if she enjoys being sometimes. No woman comes stamped with expertise in doing household tasks, she learns because ther is no one to do them, no one to share those burdens on a regular basis. Be that man and see her smile all day. Be her wife sometimes, she will be yours truly with whole heart and a smile as long as a mile.

P. S - I discussed the viewpoint with my husband long time back...so no surprises for him.

P. S 2 - He didn’t agree with my viewpoint....but I still wrote about it....I guess because we are different....like magnet and iron....it keeps us together.

Yes, I am a mother and I love my kids differently.

The post is my personal view not a general statement on mothers, though I feel most would agree even if not openly 😜.

We grow up hearing that a mother’s love for all her kids is same. And still, we all at one instance or other have teased our siblings about the fact that ‘our mother loves me the most’. I always thought - do even mothers have their favourite child ?- a child she loves the most. And, I assumed logically it’s very much possible. After all, a painter has a favourite painting , a poet has a favourite poem, so what’s wrong if a mother has a favourite child.

Now life jumps a few years, I had my first child and realised I can’t love anyone like I love him. The love that you have for the first child consumes all other emotions. Your world changes, you change and perspectives change. The definition of milestones change, hence I realised that I was right and told my younger brother that now being a mother, I can say that mom loves me the most. ( loved his sad face 🤪).

Time leap - another 3 years, now I am mother of two. I asked myself the same question again - Do I love both my kids the same way?  The answer is - NO, I don’t.  I love them differently. Before you start shaking your heads , I never said I love one less than the other. It’s just that I love them differently because both are different personalities, they came into my life at different points, they made me realise different things about life and touch different chords in my heart. But together or even separately  the chords produced only one tune - love ,which was pure and innocent.

When my first kid was born, I became a control freak, special washing powder, gels, oils, utensils, 4-5 cloth changing sessions in day, clicking photos for everything, paranoid about people touching him, possessive , concerned about even a slight sneeze , first time mothers have it difficult specially in age of ‘google’ baba... I took his each achievement of milestone as personal victory. Then I had my second child, but I found that the control freak in me  wasn’t there, I simply sat there and enjoyed his antics, was calm about his little illnesses. Believe me it was strange because while my elder one gave me no stress , the younger one lets the whole world know that his demands are being ignored at home. 

So, yes I love them both differently but equally. To be honest , my eldest son is my pride and my younger son - my joy. One gave me the greatest feeling in the world , the other taught me to savour that feeling. One made me a mother and the other a referee 🤪. 

To both my sons - I love you both and can’t imagine life without you .( Though, I wouldn’t mind some time off every few days.)

I have no wish to rewind my life

 I was talking to a friend a few days back, in the course of conversation reminiscing old times, my friend asked, “ Hey, how I wish we could go back a decade and relive our lives”. I probably didn’t respond as enthusiastically as expected, because isn’t it an ultimate sign of ‘middle’ age approaching that we want to relive our golden days. Before you conclude that my lack of enthusiasm meant that I consider myself eternally young or my current life is perfect, sorry to burst the bubble. 

I believe in destiny, that things happen in our lives happen for a reason, you have to go through your share of trials and heartbreaks to realise your true self. The last decade or so, was my trial period. I have gone through it, came out victorious, maybe my aspirations changed, but my experiences taught me a lot. There were moments of utmost happiness with periods of despair equally dispersed. I went through it all, and there is no way I am ready to relive it again, even in my worst nightmare, forget about wishing to roll back a few years of life.

Now, this doesn’t mean that life was bad, but just that I can remember  the good times by talking, looking at pictures/videos or just by closing my eyes. At the moment, life is so full of new things , that I ask myself - why to go through the same emotions and experiences again? So with the old part of life done and taken care of, I look forward to new experiences, new adventures, new heights and maybe new lows, but sorry my friend, get another on board if you wish to turn back life a few years.

So, here to life to come...welcome because I am ready.

Confession 1 - My weird reading phase

I have lately realised a weird and unpleasant truth about myself....now it’s not lately but it’s been a while I found it out but then like any normal human being I resisted the thought that I have some not so pleasant aspects in my personality....even more difficult was to actually accept it and then write this blog. 

To cut short the suspense ....the problem has cropped up with my liking towards reading some blogs. Well, it isn’t actually reading but the topics and style that was addictive and pushing my thought process on non creative channels. (Won’t name the sites as the problem lies with me than them). It’s almost same as introduction of Ekta Kapoor serials in earlier great television series like Dekh  bhai dekh , Udaan, Shanti, Surabhi etc....when she took television decades back...and suddenly focus shifted from independent normal ladies working hard to balance life and career and having a life outside kitchen politics to saree clad females scheming and plotting against their own families... suddenly any female wanting a career became a vamp in the serials....whew bad plots but high TRPs...ironical. 

On similar lines, my reading list - from classics and mythological thrillers changed to blogs about “poor “ female struggling at home, trying to be nice to all, no one cares about her (Why the hell are they are talking on same lines?), and after years of sacrifice , taunts and emotional atyachaar.....she finds respect and sudden acceptance .  And believe me , I started enjoying reading them... ( I need to get examined for this).

I write - what I see and feel and hear and think. So, to write on those lines was against my basic nature but somehow I had become addicted to reading these blogs and would scroll down to read more and more into late hours at night. It was like an obsession, to keep reading those strange blogs all talking of so called perfect Indian female, like Nirupa Roy of old Indian movies or a superwoman managing all alone. Though I knew i wasn’t being fair to myself and to the values I had grown up with but it was like an invisible chain of acutely feeling that sense of helplessness clinging to all those characters...and then that translated into a dullness of mind - a damsel in distress syndrome maybe.

This blocked my creative side. And I realised how can I write , that is have a sensible output -  if all that is going in is useless.....I mean the input is highly outdated. So, does that mean that I have stopped reading those completely...NO...I am trying not to.... but it’s hard to resist. 

P.S. I have other confessions to make...but at some other time...there is only so much criticism I can take even from myself.

I woke up feeling weird

It’s old world charm back again on television, reruns of popular series have taken our generation back into the childhood. To it add the completely new and threatening pandemic we are facing, it leads us into unchartered territory when we finally lie down to sleep. The dreams are a combination of news, serials, covid, ways to keep kids entertained and planning a life post corona.

I wish my dream was as simple as above, but I woke up feeling really weird - can’t define whether I was scared, bemused or horrified but the path my subconscious took me into made me understand - why I don’t write blogs on serious matters. You see after my last post on raising our sons - I kept on thinking about how would I do it, the situations I would face and how I could have written my thoughts better. ..and so on. Along with it , the same late night I was watching short clips of popular Hindi serials, Kapil Sharma shows etc...... . Here is a peek into my dream cum nightmare cum glimpse of a scary future.

My home had become Kapil Sharma’s show’s set, instead of Archana Puram Singh , it was my big photo...albeit without garland - just like that First wife of “ Hum Paanch “ serial. And then I see from the side door a female enters, looks at my photo and smirks. She turns around and shows me her newly styled and coloured hair and says “ Dekho mummy...Ji , I spent two hours in salon today,  You never knew how to pamper yourself,” . Eww, she is my future daughter in law and I don’t even like her hair colour. She smiles coyly and says,” I am so thankful that you never taught your son anything, poor man is completely dependent on me.....even to wear right clothes”...and then she laughs at her own joke. But unlike that serial’s photo, mine in the dream can only see and hear , can’t speak...😩.

Oh, suddenly Tulsi of “ Saas Bhi kabhi bahu thi” enters her body and she starts moving around the house ( I can hear the music playing in the background), showing me her wardrobe- beautifully arranged and then takes me to another - a disaster and says -“ this one belongs to your son”. Ouch.... then she shows me those home delivery menus.....to be used if she doesn’t feel like looking....”you see mummy Ji” she says...”it’s my choice what your son will eat....you never taught him to cook”. Then she goes to the washing area, shows me a pile of dirty men’s clothes - “these belong to your son....you see you never taught him to operate a simple washing machine. He is useless at home while my parents made me truly independent....”

“ This house is run as per me, poor husband of mine never learnt how to manage things at home and now from food to clothes he relies on me, Kuch to seekhaya hota...” . By now I imagine my son ( don’t know which one) in dirty T-shirt and lowers, waiting for food as the clock shows 3 pm....

The empowered female of the next generation , showed me what could go wrong, if I am unable to teach my child to be independent. The photograph of mine started vibrating and I woke up to my alarm. Feeling all weird, looking around- I gave a sigh of relief, for my kids were sleeping peacefully next to me- still kids under 5. 

P.S - I was thinking about writing on corona, teaching in today’s world etc...now am thinking whether I should or not?

P.S 2 - I remember the saree of that photograph and am never going to buy that one in my life.