BangaloreRAJ S. RANGARAJAN
Who doesn’t wish to have the best maid for maintaining a clean home? But heard of instances where domestic help not only washes the dirt away, but the owner’s spirits too? Read on to know the author’s experience…
I feel liberated. Not because my wife left me. Not because I left her. Not because my horde of relatives decided to leave for good. Not because I retired. No, nothing of that sort. I feel free because I fired my house maid, Sitamma. What a relief! The respite is in spite of having three huge bedrooms, a drawing room, a dining room and a kitchen…not to miss the balconies that open to large open spaces that invite some cool breeze and choking dust too. My floors aren't particularly sparkling now, but at least I’m not a bundle of nerves with someone around!I particularly feel liberated and free as a bird every weekday. Sitamma had refused to mark attendance anyway on Sundays. Now, I don’t have to be constantly waking up early each day expecting her royal presence.
When I hired her three months ago, I suggested a window of between 7 and 7.15 a.m. for reporting for duty as I leave by 8.30 for work. But soon I found myself waiting for her endlessly, allotting as much priority to her cleaning as I would to my work! Punctuality was not her strong point anyway. And, I didn’t like to have a shower when she was cleaning the house. Call it male fetish! I wasn’t prepared to waste my time counting my inventory of stainless spoons and forks every Sunday morning. Not that I have too many ‘chamchas’ and I am not being figurative.
In the three ‘long’ months of our association I found Sitamma dishing out the most creative excuses that you, me and everyone have heard over and over again! “I don’t have a watch,” “I missed my bus,” “The bus broke down,” “My uncle has a heart ailment – I need an advance on my salary,” “My grandpa is likely to die very soon – I need cash to meet him before he quits terra firma,” and the one that gets the cake, “My granduncle fell off a bullock cart in downtown Devanahalli!” My question: “What has all that to do with the price of eggs in Bangalore, or Devanahalli for that matter?” With so many excuses to deal with, I decided to dispense with Sitamma’s services.
Now I don’t have to keep cleaning after all the mess she creates in the first place. I don’t have to keep searching for the broom that mysteriously fell off the first floor verandah when I was shaving. I don’t have to keep looking for those empty beer bottles that I was planning to give to the security guy.
I can clean when I feel like – Sundays notwithstanding – when my whim suits me, even on weekdays. I don’t have to keep buying those detergent floor washers to suit her taste. I don’t have to check what I am wearing when I answer the doorbell. No one does tap the door too anymore. Definitely not Sitamma.
She can now trade her lies with someone else in Indiranagar, Jayanagar, Gandhinagar or Sadashivnagar! Please leave me alone.
I feel like a kid who dreams of his vacation after annual exams. Now, that’s what I call relief! I am holidaying in my three-bedroom flat, welcoming the breeze and shooing away the dust happily, all by myself…albeit once a week!
Feedback to raj.rangarajan@gmail.com
