This one is possibly going to be the next book I'll read, now that I'm done with White Mughals. "Phantoms in the Brain" is the kind which I generally keep at an arms length but now that someone has gifted it to me, that too saying it's one of the best books, I'll venture into it.
6 days of homestay has come to an end and tomorrow when I enter the office, I'll feel like I used to when we would return to Modankap after 2 months in my grandmother's place. I know that I enjoy the thought of being with kids all the time but as someone said, office is a place where you can get some rest to your body, especially if you have active kids at home. Also, "I do all the work at home on my own and I don't need any maid" is a very feel-good statement but the execution is not easy. You'll have to leave your dear post-lunch naps, late-night movies etc and you must have a huge reserve of ...self-belief to be able to complete cleaning the kitchen even if your eyes are dragging you towards the bed and telling the brain that the sink looks clean enough. The only question that pops up in my mind is how a person like me, who does not heed the call of sleep even at 11 to complete the chores, can behave like a helping guest the moment my mother is at home and be happy playing with the kids. Part of the blame I shall shift to my mother herself who thinks I'm doing a great job by working(in the office) but it is a shame on me that I let her do so and I'm going to change.
My son enjoys my cooking and he's asking almost everyday when I'll quit and be with him at home. I told him it would be next June. Whenever this topic comes between us, I remember my old landlady who had admonished me when I quit the last time; when my son was 6 months old. She had said, "Don't you feel sorry for the kid and leave such a good job just like that! Daycare will do fine for him. Anyway these boys don't remember a thing you do for them and happily go behind their wives!"!! In fact, it was her son who had just then got engaged to a girl outside her caste and I could see that anguish reflecting in her warning.
I'm in awe of storytellers. Sometimes the things they write are exactly what I would've felt and I cannot imagine someone else can feel that way too, they are so odd. And they write about so many other thought-processes and feelings...how would they know all of them?
6 days of homestay has come to an end and tomorrow when I enter the office, I'll feel like I used to when we would return to Modankap after 2 months in my grandmother's place. I know that I enjoy the thought of being with kids all the time but as someone said, office is a place where you can get some rest to your body, especially if you have active kids at home. Also, "I do all the work at home on my own and I don't need any maid" is a very feel-good statement but the execution is not easy. You'll have to leave your dear post-lunch naps, late-night movies etc and you must have a huge reserve of ...self-belief to be able to complete cleaning the kitchen even if your eyes are dragging you towards the bed and telling the brain that the sink looks clean enough. The only question that pops up in my mind is how a person like me, who does not heed the call of sleep even at 11 to complete the chores, can behave like a helping guest the moment my mother is at home and be happy playing with the kids. Part of the blame I shall shift to my mother herself who thinks I'm doing a great job by working(in the office) but it is a shame on me that I let her do so and I'm going to change.
My son enjoys my cooking and he's asking almost everyday when I'll quit and be with him at home. I told him it would be next June. Whenever this topic comes between us, I remember my old landlady who had admonished me when I quit the last time; when my son was 6 months old. She had said, "Don't you feel sorry for the kid and leave such a good job just like that! Daycare will do fine for him. Anyway these boys don't remember a thing you do for them and happily go behind their wives!"!! In fact, it was her son who had just then got engaged to a girl outside her caste and I could see that anguish reflecting in her warning.
I'm in awe of storytellers. Sometimes the things they write are exactly what I would've felt and I cannot imagine someone else can feel that way too, they are so odd. And they write about so many other thought-processes and feelings...how would they know all of them?
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