Every coin has two sides; this analogy has a peculiar resemblance with our lives. We as humans too have time and again been tested by many such events when we have always been thinking in a double note.
The life of the 2 kinds of mothers – house mother or working mother, is a deep topic. Both carry a bag of ambiguous thoughts, some baffled logic, lot of guilt ridden conscience and off course a heart and mind to torment them every time when it comes to their kids.
Well, the house wife or house mother story may display a very rosy picture about her household, a perfect home, spotless interiors, uncluttered kitchen and sparkling little abode; a cheerful face packing lunch boxes with best possible nutrients, waiting for the school bus without making a grouchy face, the rest is a slow paced, serene life all to her, till kids return.
Now, this might seem to be an idealistic, utopian dream like visual treat for working women but if we delve a little deeper, ignoring all the extrinsic affairs in her life, just exploring a little bit into the inner chambers of her mind we come across another reality. Sailing within her mind are lots of wavering thoughts, when she meets that neighbor asking her every single day “So, how do you spend the whole day, it must be very boring.” Or whenever the door knocks and she hurries to open the door the same old refrain rings “Hope, you were not sleeping?”
When asked about her state she replies “Yes, I am a home-maker, I feed my kids on time that too with nutrients, I take care of their academics, laundry, extracurricular activities but I hardly get any time to sleep.”
Every day she faced the same old cliché from many “So, where you sleeping?” but in her own thoughts she had asked herself many a times “Does a house-wife has no other way to unwind than welcoming sleep at her free time, watch those nonsensical saas-bahu serials everyday day at the same hour, attend kitty parties and left over time just behave like a nagger.” On the contrary, she had those instincts which asked her own wits “Can’t I have a thinking mind, can’t I be having those grey cells intact, can’t I have all those wits, can’t I have an opinion, can’t I take a decision just as a working lady, can’t I be as independent in my choice as a working women, I am more than just an old nagging piece of machine doing daily chores numb and dumb.”
Now comes the working women saga
An outer reflection
It’s all about her career, her job, her appraisals, her colleagues and when she returns home her little home not so clean, the tangled bed, rumpled kitchen, sloppiness all over, the strained mind and fagged body. Her wrecked up being just asks for an hour to rejuvenate but her eyes does not give her the consent as soon as her little girl hugs after a long day “Mom, I missed you, please help me with my home-work” could she? Her mind hovering around every time she thought “oof today I missed her fruits,” “is she getting all the nutrients?” Then the bell rings …. With her slant smile that old nagging neighbor fumbles “Oh, so you are back, your little angel seems to reduce weight…well poor you!” Now her guilt ridden mind hover around every little corner making her think “I am not a perfect home-maker, I not a good mother, neither am I a good wife.” The guilt stabs her harshly many a times.
Her thoughts slope up and down rejecting every logic she placed to pacify her mind but her confidence spoke of words which uttered “So what if I am working women I have been making best of efforts to balance the two, if not prefect still I share the responsibilities together, my life is just a blend between the two.”
My salute to both, a home-maker or a home-mother a working mother or a working women, both are mother’s and that makes them so special, in their own way they delineate their duties accordingly, making best and doing best what they can do to make their kids happy. Let them have those bits of imperfection; don’t label them as machines. With their glitch, they still win hearts in their own way; does it matter if it’s perfect or imperfection rules? Those natural instincts of doing or enacting her role in her own way make her a “Best Mother”. Who cares about what the world says!