On Stressed Housewives & Internet Escapism

A Guest Blog Post by Times of India, Westside Plus’ Nita Deb.

There’s a voice in my head and it’s not mine.

For seven and a half excruciating years now, I have had the whines, gurgles, groans, whys, wherefores and whatevers rattling off my ears almost every waking moment.

I don’t know how many of you are moms or dads, but hey, believe me, nothing ever prepares you for this. There are all these romanticised versions of cute babies in designer togs grinning fat, dimpled grins at loving parents. After seven and a half years of trying, I have come to the conclusion that this picture is not representative of the truth and never can be. For one, the mom is always smiling, has her make up on, and is well groomed. For seven and a half years, I have had very little time to brush my hair, let alone go for a much-needed haircut. For two, the baby is always quiet, smiling, and looks plump and wellfed. Mine never stops jabbering, and if I were to put it mildly, is “eatingly challenged”. He still considers the worst threat to be “go and clean up your room now or I will give you something to eat”.

Even as I write right now, he’s sitting there, his lunch sandwich forgotten, mimicking sounds of a traffic jam, perhaps at Byculla, and possibly with 3 different fm radio stations blaring from cars around, because he occasionally breaks into rj-type chatter or, as now, “my heart goes sha-la-la-la-la..” (where did he hear that?) and then it’s back to the shrieking gear changes and braking, and a (mild) hindi cuss word (now, where did he hear THAT??!!), which I promptly frown at. I mean all this is fine on the net, not in real life. I wonder, though, what you guys and gals out there think of the TRAI decision to monitor and license the net? This was one last refuge of peace and freedom left in the whole world. Why does the government have to put their two bits into this realm of ours? What does it mean for us? Will we have to go underground? Or further out into space?

I digress.

But the voice in my head always does. From the things I want to do, to the things I must do, to the things everybody expects me to do (and there’s a huge difference between two and three) there is always a struggle. Balancing them all is a tough one. Today’s paper, surprisingly, acknowledges this. They’ve carried a story talking about how housewives are the most stressed out people in the world, how they count their achievements based on the satisfaction of their family members. And go nuts in the process. Martyrs, all. Moi? Non, non. Whatever gave you that idea? I have my escape routes all planned.

A preferred diversion is to just say goodbye to the world about once a fortnight, and take in a morning show. Yes, with all the young couples bunking lectures and looking for some privacy, the OAPs with nothing better to do with their mornings. The first time I did it, I felt strange, walking into a theatre in bright sunlight, buying popcorn just after breakfast. But the kiddo was safely in school, the husband (presumably) at work, and hey, I needed a life sometimes, too! The movie was ok, but I left the theatre in a state of bliss, not having heard the little voice in my head for 2 straight hours….and went to pick him up from school reeking of corn, butter and salt.

The net is an alltime favourite escape. It’s accessible (thanks to MTNL broadband and my patiently-built-up-over-the-years relationship with Mr Yadav, himself, linesman superior in charge of my ilaka, who grins happily whenever I call and tell him my phone line is out of order, yet again, because he knows there will be some mild tinkering with wires, and a good baksheesh at the end of it) and you can do it from the safety of your home. Never mind if I have not had a haircut, and there are gargantuan traffic jams around me, I can connect immediately with some of the most intelligent, newage people in the world. It’s always possible to escape from my Alcatraz and dive into the pleasures of reading about other peoples’ more fulfilling, enriching lives.

A current hit is No Impact Man, a young man who lives in New York and has decided to spend a year making the least negative impact on the environment. He’s given up plastic, paper, conventional transport, composts his food scraps, and generally, gives us a lovely idea of what it really is like to live a “good” life. From his story you can gauge the huge impact we have on the environment - and the amount of garbage we generate every day. Check him out!

But of course, all these are friends for a day. There’s a voice I’ve been following faithfully for a long time now, a voice that’s full of spirit, brimming with enthusiasm for life, and goodness, a voice that speaks from a beautiful mind and a lovely soul. In case you haven’t already got it, I’m a great fan of Mel’s. I read her to live, vicariously, a happy, fulfilling life, and you know sometimes, I even read out bits to that other little voice in my head, and of course, he always has a bit to add of his own. Sigh. He’s at that age when he never listens, but always has a lot to say. Does that ever change?