The domestic helper never smiled. Not even a flicker of excitement or exuberance on her face. I did not engage her in lengthy conversations nor did she ever approach me with any complaints. She suited me well. She was living in a village close by. She spoke less, was efficient and took few leaves. Her predecessor was chatty, retorted back and was full of stories.
I loved it when my new helper appeared at the gate on the dot at 3.30 pm, when I came back home with my daughter. My bones weary, my body tired, I would bless her for opening the heavy iron grill gate to let the car in. She would dutifully carry the shopping of the day from the car as I unlocked the house.
Since the onset of the lockdown my family had barred her from entering the house. They dreaded the invisible Covid-19 invading the home territories. It was everywhere and so pervasive that it inundated all counter arguments.
And then came the curfew. Even the inane walks to and from home were not allowed.
I had to let her go. The household chores got divided among the family members and things went on smoothly. No one complained about the helper’s absence. My mind too seemed to have made peace with this scenario. How easy was it to pluck people out of one’s life and move on as if they never existed!
But all the work I was doing during the lockdown made me wonder how I had developed the strength to do all the household chores that I had never imagined I could manage.
{{/usCountry}}But all the work I was doing during the lockdown made me wonder how I had developed the strength to do all the household chores that I had never imagined I could manage.
{{/usCountry}}How lazy I must have been for piling my work on my helper when I could, whereas, without her, I was managing all the cleaning, mopping up, doing the laundry and dishes.
Though every family member had been instructed to clean his or her own plate, bowls, spoons and glasses to avoid a pile-up in the sink, someday rules would be forgotten and regulations thrown to the wind. Then I would have to deal with the chaos of unwashed dishes.
Cleaning the plate, scraping off the grime from others’ plates left without a rinse in the sink, was not easy. I found it repulsive, wondering if I had rinsed used utensils before giving them to my helper to wash.
I could make out why she never smiled.
When it was so difficult for me to do the chores at home, dealing with my own family, how difficult would it have been for her to toil in several homes, for people in no way related to her.
I could say for sure I missed her and was waiting for her to come back and start from where she left.
I hoped I would be more considerate with her than I was before the lockdown days.
Now, I have decided that I will not overburden her with work that I can easily do myself.
I will make sure I rinse the utensils before putting them in the sink.
I can be kind with my words and gestures and not careless and unresponsive. I might not be able to change her life, but I am hopeful that these little things might add up to bring the smile back on her face.
The writer is a Hoshiarpur-based veterinary officer