“So, what do you do?”
“You mean, apart from digging my nose and snoozing in the afternoons? Lemme see- nothing”
That was my answer to a friend who got a job and had begun to feel like a productive member of the society after being a homemaker since eons.
She awkwardly laughed at my sarcasm.
“No, seriously what do you do?”
“Like I said before, I am a lazy ass, good for nothing, homemaker who leeches off her husband.”
“Deepti, there is no need to act so mean.”
I backed off a bit and replied though it sounded more of an explanation than a reply-
“You know the usual stuff that all homemakers do and blog on the side.”
“Hmmm…..well, I have to get the kids ready, get my hubby ready, make breakfast , then we leave for work, come back and take kids for their classes-“
And the lady went on.
I nearly told her to take a running jump in a dry well but propriety had me make polite noises and after a while I ended the telephone conversation by saying that Parita’s butt needed to be cleaned since she had just taken a dump (perils of homemakerhood).
I shrugged the episode off till another person I barely knew asked me the same question- So, what do you do?
My hackles rose. I wanted to tell that individual that I was a brain surgeon who made pots and pots of money. I drove a Jaguar, lived in a palatial house, had ten servants and was married to the man far richer than Azim Premji and was better looking that Brad Pitt.
Why the fuck do Indians begin their conversations with personal questions? And why the fuck should we politely and truthfully reply ? And why the fuck should I mind my language when I have legitimate grounds to be fucking mad?
Its an innate Indian attitude to ask delicate questions on topics most Westerners would never broach
“So, how come you aren’t married?”
“Don’t you want to get married?”
“Don’t you want children?”
“What do you do?”
“How do you spend your time?”
“How much do you earn?”
“Why do you stay there?”
“Don’t you miss your parents?”
“Don’t you get bored?”
Egawds! They just don’t know when to bite their tongue and slither back into the hole they crawled out of. What’s even more amusing is when they decide how one should feel-
“You’re getting married, it is okay to cry at the vidayee. You should cry”
“Your mother just died, you must be feeling so sad.”
“You had a miscarriage, I too had a miscarriage, actually I had two miscarriage and one abor-“
“Your mother in law must be a bitch like mine, I feel so bad for you.”
“Your husband travels a lot? You should keep an eye on him. You know, there are Russian prostitutes that are made available to the buyers, I always check my husband’s suitcase so should you”
“Your maid isn’t a nice woman, she was eyeing my driver, you should be careful”
And it goes on. Shouldn’t someone tick these kinds of people off? Or better still try and get rid of this nasty personal habit we Indians have inculcated?
Why is it so difficult for Indians to respect another’s privacy? Familiarity does breed contempt. When I don’t go around asking personal questions why do they?
Why is it so difficult for people to make inane conversation?
Is it so difficult to start the conversation with –“ Nice weather we are having.”
“Yes, Bangalore is awesome during August.”
“Did you go to the Lal Baugh flower show?”
“No, but I’m planning to.”
Doesn’t this kind of conversation sound better than…
“So, what do you do? Oh, you’re a homemaker? I am a NASA astronaut.”
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Its always better to nurture your flowers from a packet of seeds than buy from a nursery. I got about thirty Calendula plants from a packet of Namdhari seeds. The seed packet had cost me thirty rupees whereas each plant in a nursery would have not been less than fifteen rupees.
One of my rose bush finally coughed up a perfect rose. Others are again declining since I am not able to pay them much attention, along with too much rain and lack of sun. Sadly even my garden is getting neglected. Next week I will pull my jammies up and get back to work.
