Skip to main content

Oh Well, not again!!!

“Why should I cook? It is a girl’s job!” I heard my brother stating vehemently. And the feminist in me took that as a sure sign of conflict, which triggered an age old debate of “Girl Job” and “Guy Job”. Boy, was I irked at that insolent tone or what! Define “girl job” for me please… just because a girl takes the responsibility of keeping a hot meal on the table twice a day, can that be labelled a girl’s job? I can show you a few hundred girls who do not know how to cook and I can show you a few hundred guys who do a grand job of putting a meal together.

And the topic went on and on about the usual “paycheck is earned by men”
“how difficult is it to cook a meal?”
“Men do all the hardwork in the family and girls just cook and sleep” etc etc etc…
I don’t even want to humble the questions with counter points. Seriously, I was surprised about the chauvinist attitude that I told him as such – to stop being such an MCP. Shudder!

I was wondering, however, what good is all that manliness if he cannot make a hot cup of tea/coffee or soup for a sick mother or wife or sister? Perhaps, that has something to do with over pampered morons who were fed three square meals a day irrespective of the state of their mother. Since, obviously fathers refuse to enter into the kitchen (barring my dad, ofcourse, who not only cooks buts feeds my mother when she is unwell!). why is it so difficult to inculcate sensitiveness into a guy’s brain, to have his eyes and ears open to the people who make his life easier? Hmpf!!!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Too late???

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story. All the characters are fictional. The incident itself is a creation. Any resemblance to people or to the situations in the real world, is purely coincidental. --------------------------------------- “Let me drop you”, he said. “Not if you are the last one left on this earth”, she growled. His pride took a ride, yet the fear for her, overbearing every rationale. The terrorists are loose in the city and the thought of her life in danger, however remote the possibility caused him to swallow his ego and ask of her again, “Please…” “I would rather be within the touching distance of a suicide bomber”, she said. Turning her back to him, she walked away, muttering, “So typical of him to think I require him now, as though I have not survived without him. I do not need him to feel secure in my life. I am happy and perfect and ….” “Are you?”, her conscience questioned. “Yes” “Stop lying to yourself at least”, her conscience countered. “I am not”, she a...

Ah! Irony?!

There are a lot of things going on in my head right now. All this resentment at being chained is growing in me, to the extent where it threatens to consume me. When things are fine, all these feelings are in a back burner, but at the slightest ripple, all these feelings surface, as a bubbling tornado and every time its as though they never went away. I can feel the blood rumbling, I can feel my eyes threatening to overflow, I can feel the anger in me ready to engulf everything around me. Yet, yet, I need to hold everything in. Life has to be simple, yet we complicate it, with people we surround ourselves with. I mean, even if we live on an island, we cannot really escape people, can we? Family, friends, relations, strangers - all are people, ready to pounce on us, rub their emotions on us and basically just willing to complicate our life. We cannot shut them out, nor can we let them in. Ask, talk, feel, shout, scream, wallow, cry - how many emotions and for what? Who gives a f**k about...

Tag - I, Me and Myself - Past, Present and Future

Thank you Usha for tagging me :). Tagging being new to me, took sometime to understand what needs to be done… The Tag Two questions from the past, present and future. Answer them and then tag your friends from the blog-o-sphere. Leave a comment on their blog letting them know they have been tagged and you are all set. Yesterday Your oldest memories Amazing how things of past cling on to you as memories that last forever. And those memories drive us to live a life amidst every chaos that erupts round us. There are a bunch of memories in my casket, each extremely warm and beautiful. To pick one is likely to be a tricky task. C’mon, I need some help here, which one to pick??? Will pick a memory when I was about seven years old. The kid in me fancied climbing hills, mountains, trees, buildings. But for a kid, do mountains or hills or peaks make sense? I think not, or I remember, trees and buildings are something that I thought should be mounted with extreme caution of a monkey. And I was v...