Chapter 1
They had just finished their dinner together. The time in the clock was 10: 30 pm. It was a
heavy meal for the taste had the insignia of a recipe from a renowned cookery
show. Both of them, the husband and wife, did enjoy the delicacy of the
cuisine, for which the wife had visually experimented hours in the internet
followed by a successful physical experimentation in her laboratory, the
kitchen.
Husband had just switched on the Tele vision. One of the acknowledged
soap opera was being telecasted as he held the remote and increased the
volume. Eyeing the clock, he pushed out the words loud enough
for his wife to hear
“Dear, it’s time to sleep…hurry up”.
She was in the kitchen with her hands already dipped in the
foam, from the dish cleaning liquid, but her full concentration remained on the
pile of clothes in front of her , that seem to be telling her” do something, or
else I will grow again”. But she did hear her husband’s words in spite of the
heaps of task she had to accomplish in order to bid farewell for that night.
She replied back
“Just 5 minutes dear “
She looked up the clock to find the minute hand simmering
around at 7 while the hour hand comfortably settled at 10.
Chapter 2
Radha was late again. She missed her local passenger bus
narrowly, had she caught she would have comfortably been in front of the
mansion located at the end of the street, where she was employed as the maid
servant. Now she knew the wrath of Mrs thankappan, the house owner, who was
one of the most hard hearted lady she had come across in her life. The only reason
she wished to continue here, was the timely payment with which she could
bear the expenses of her four girls’ education. She had to rely on this household
work, for her husband had left her when he had come to know that the fourth
child was a girl too, like the previous three. Mrs Thankappan, with her eyes
piercing through the spectacles and her lips pouted, was get set ready at the
door.
“You are late again; I have told you a thousand times that
you have to reach here before my association meeting. Now go, I have put all
the clothes down and start washing that”.
Radha did not utter a word and as she looked into the pile
in front of her, she knew that Mrs Thankappan’s children were back home from
their college.
Chapter 3
Husband thought and for a second but suddenly his gaze had
shifted to the clock on the wall from the television and shouted
“Dear, its getting late”.
“5 minutes more”.
The reply was not from the kitchen, but from the balcony.
She had already emptied the washing machine and was setting up the clothes to
be hanged on the rope and at the same time dumping the ones into the machine. She normally used a stool to stand up and reach the rope, but
unfortunately could not find the stool. She cried out loud
“There was stool over here, have you seen it”.
There was no reply from the other end.
Chapter 4
While radha was busy washing , she heard a door bell from
outside. She was never interested in the visitors outside and neither did she
have time to hear their in house stories for all she thought was rushing back
home early so that the girls won’t be alone at night.
Suddenly she heard someone shouting out loud from her back
“Some body has come to see you outside”,
It was Mrs Thankappan’s son studying in banglore and typical
to the normal city dwellers, he was in his shorts and t-shirt. Radha just
washed her hands and had just got in front of the main door, surprised to see
her daughter standing outside.
“Mom”. Tears rolling from her eyes, she called out Radha.
“I have told you, that you should not have visitors here.
Now get back to your work or you don’t need to come here again”.
Mrs thankappan had
such piercing sound that people moving outside their compound could hear her voice
and they turned around to see what was happening inside. Her voice was
aggregated by her son who was peeping out from the window leering at most
possibly her daughter who belonged to his age.
Chapter 5
Husband, glued to the screen, suddenly noticed his wife
moving into the room to find her rush back with a stool, carrying it into the
balcony.
“Oh I forgot to say. I kept the stool to fix the bulb in the
toilet. By the way, its 11, don’t we need to sleep”.
He made his word less intense to make her feel that he did
indeed forget to place the stool back in the balcony.
She was running with the stool. But she responded in order
to instill patience in him.
“Just a few minutes more dear”
With that she rushed into the balcony, trying to reach the farthermost
rope in order to hang the clothes.
Chapter 6
Radha was not in a mood to concentrate. She had hurried up
with the cleaning, had watered the gardens, and cleaned the floor; revved up to
rush to her daughter as the tears that rolled down from her daughter’s
eyes kept reiterating in her mind.
Why was it she cried. Radha wondered as her eyes rocked to
and fro in search for answers. In spite, the clock ticked 5 pm, time for her to
stall her work and resume her journey back home, Mrs Thankappan did not allow her to leave the
house owing to the fact that she was late in the morning.
As Radha steadfastly moved towards the bus stop depredated,
only to find that she had to wait another hour more for the next bus, she
fettered herself for the thoughts of her child crying seems to move in her mind
like montages as she stood still at the bus stop.
Chapter 7
Husband switched off the television. It was already half past 11.He got up from his seat
and shouted out loud
“I am off to bed”
She was busy preparing for the morning tomorrow, a good
breakfast. She had put the lentils in water for preparing the curry, while
her mind drifted towards the clothes that her husband and she had to put on for
the next day at the office. She did hear
her husband's good bye words as he resided to the bedroom and for a moment she wished she
had started a little earlier so as to cuddle up under the blanket with him for
a good sleep.
I would get up early tomorrow and start with the clothes.
Confabulating with herself, she decided to nod of, dropping
herself down in the bed fully aware that she would be greeted by her husband’s
snore.
“Poor radha”.
She felt a tinge of surprise unleash itself from her top to
bottom, when her husband had just said those words.
“Which Radha”
“The servant lady in the serial” husband spoke out with his
face facing the ceiling. “ That character is working too much now days, and
every day the only episode is her household chores. Doesn’t she feel bored
doing reacting the same scene again and again. I feel the audience will take up
her work now”
She did not say anything. What came across her mind were her
mother’s words which now she felt needed to be phrased as a golden excerpt in
her life.
Daughter, it is men’s character to feel sympathetic to every
other working woman in the world except his mother, during his childhood, and
then his wife, after being married. I sometimes used to think this is what our
ancestors had coined as culture.
