Skip to main content

No…never bye bai!




Today a friend’s status message on FB read: Just fired my bai and feels terrible. Replying in a few seconds to this, she said: Yes, and now I am the bai till I find one. That is a married woman’s reality. Doing the house chores without a bai at hand, is like living in a country whose economy just blew up to pieces.

Bai. Mai. Maid. We can’t do with them and cannot do without them. Yeah, go ahead and call this post an exaggeration but for most women (married or not) this is a home truth which dawns on us very soon. Whatever one wishes to say, they have some hypnotic power over us. We are always around them or pouring over their work at home. We are never happy and they don’t give a damn. Yet we are afraid to utter the ‘F’ word (in this case – FIRED). Wish we could have that kind of attitude towards our employers. Unlike bais, we are always worried of our job security, however much we slog our asses.
We could still be fired but we cannot fire our bais for their tardiness.

With a regular maid, life is cool. She washes, mops, swabs, cleans and you supervise. You crib about her tardiness and she continues to give you that: “Itna paise mein itna hee milega look!” Yet, she is integral part of your domestic life. Without her, the dishes lay waiting in the sink till you find time or are forcibly compelled to roll your sleeves up and do the washing. Arrrgghhhh...what a chore! But when she is around you don’t mind rolling out the entire bunch of spoons into the sink!  You hate her one day, reprimand her, yet you sweet talk to her every time she threatens to leave you.

She knows more about you and your house than the male members at home might ever know. She is your source of neighborhood gossip too. Sigh…it’s a vicious circle (that is moving anti clockwise!). First she comes to you for work. You hire her. She works and bears all your natak. Then she threatens to leave. You sweet talk to her. Try other methods to cajole her. Finally pay her more so that she stays.

In an instant, she, who was the maid turns into the one who can pull all the strings. And all this while I thought I make the rules…okay I do but then she makes some too.

Women spend hours over the phone, complaining, comparing and crying their hearts out to other women about how their bais are torturing them.

In the very recent past, our old maid, who was on a long holiday, turned up on a rainy afternoon. I must tell you, her appearing out of the blue was nothing short of a jubilant moment. Gone for a month, she was badly missed. Three maids had come and gone. Each one was compared to the old one. Mummyjee cribbed, sighed; unsatisfied, she continued to let the new ones complete the chores. But now that the old one was here, her problems were sorted.

13 comments

Popular posts from this blog

A book review – Whispering Paths

The first time I interviewed someone for an assignment, the piece came back with a remark which read – ‘MOTS’ needs flesh, i.e. man on the street needs flesh! Whatever that meant, confusion was my first reaction to it. However, with writing and then rewriting the same assignment over, and over again, I realized that I had to add character or rather more ‘meat’ to the story. So what is my point here? I am trying to say that when someone asks me to read a new book or try a new author, I am generally wary of them. Why? Because I do not want to read through the book like a zombie because there is nothing (in terms of ‘meat) in its story or the characters!
But (There is always a catch, isn’t it?) Whispering Paths by Sneha Subramanian Kanta is different. Her debut publication has already put her in a league of writers who are out there to tell stories; stories that touch a chord deep within us and haunt us (in a good way) for time to come. Stories that a reader can relate to, feel the pain, …

What you get when you get a Dog...

Of moist wet noses and itchy ears, Pinpricks as bites and scratchy burs.
Ticks and twists, trips and tears, Licks and nips, and soulful stares.
Of woofs, barks and soft growls, Ruined furniture and empty food bowls.
Of smelly poop and slippery pee, Cuddly hugs, kisses and so much glee!
Of sleepless nights and dreamless mornings, When endless walks in the park become your calling.
Of wagging tails and adorable paw shakes, Shedding hair, rollovers, and shakes.
Of crashing dins and chasing leaves, Bring one home and you’ll never grieve.

From A Dream

(Image only for representation purpose. Copyright lies with the artist. Not Waving but Drowning Fine Art Print - Trudi Doyle)



He walked, bare feet, on a mass of crushed sea-shells Coarse sand clung onto him, he watched her Afar; sitting motionless on a wind-beaten rock As if waiting for knell
'Wosh-wosh' screamed the waves Gloriously furious, crashing on the moss-covered dock They came high, they came low Yet slow, the sea so magnificent they seemed insignificant He watched her, sitting motionless As if waiting for knell
Ominous clouds o'er head played hide-n-seek with the moon threatening to steal light till noon He prayed, she'd move and he'd take her away
somewhere warm, happy and safe
And then she turned to look at him,
Him eager, she like waif, smiled
his heart in blithe
Only to step deep into the waters
Now safe from the knell



(This is from a dream I had recently)