aka One-Day maid service is here
- Bangalore Mirror, Wed 3 Sept, 2008
At a recent gathering, the topic of conversation, inadvertently, settled upon domestic help. As always, there was a lot of cricket in the background.
Both, subjects that everyone has ample to contribute to. That day was no different. While the men whined about missing crucial cover drives and third eyes, one senior lady went glum just thinking about her predicament at having to endure an in-form-out-of-form-out-of-town kaamwali. Another friend posed smug at the loyalty her mother enjoyed irrespective of malle, jaatre, habba, maava or akka na thangi!
Woes of trauma followed. Few scored and two were caught behind. India, in the meanwhile, was doing well with Dhoni on strike. That’s when a phone rang. Smug friend’s maid needed a week off! Her maava na magaa had been put into aaspatre. Well, well.
While the rest of the crowd looked on half amused , half sympathetic, my mother revealed our unique situation. With apartments springing up everywhere, home owners like us, have become a troubled lot. Floor-hopping holds greater sway over these maids who are reluctant to be stuck in one house for half a day. Fed up, my mother changed her approach. Dinaa cooli became the new mantra.
Post breakfast, my parents would go out scouting for a maid and anyone that looked safe enough to approach and was ready for a quick single, was brought home. The maid-of- the-match would save the day, and walk - never to be called again. This carried on for a couple of weeks. My mother would roll the pitch, the maid would run her innings and … out.
Our friend watched this show, curiously, on one of his visits. That same week, he donned the cap of Captain- Team Maid. Sticky wicket, yes, but took spin well. He would go out for the grocery and dutifully return with a new maid!
We were just laughing over the whole thing (cricket score in due check) when my smug friend’s dad clapped his hands and said, ‘First class! I’m doing the same as him now’.
Like a shot, our friend’s grandson, all of five, concluded, in a high pitch, for everyone present.
‘Yaaaaaaa! Just tell my Thatha. He buys them from the shop, you know? He brought one yesterday only. They are goooood.’ Eyebrows perked, he nodded earnestly.
Uproar from the TV corner. Beautiful timing. Dhoni hit another six and our host settled down with the remote. Beat.
Match over, the jibes that followed are best kept out of print.
~
www.bangaloremirror.com -- Bangalore Talking -- Blog Talk -- One-Day maid service is here
- Bangalore Mirror, Wed 3 Sept, 2008
At a recent gathering, the topic of conversation, inadvertently, settled upon domestic help. As always, there was a lot of cricket in the background.
Both, subjects that everyone has ample to contribute to. That day was no different. While the men whined about missing crucial cover drives and third eyes, one senior lady went glum just thinking about her predicament at having to endure an in-form-out-of-form-out-of-town kaamwali. Another friend posed smug at the loyalty her mother enjoyed irrespective of malle, jaatre, habba, maava or akka na thangi!
Woes of trauma followed. Few scored and two were caught behind. India, in the meanwhile, was doing well with Dhoni on strike. That’s when a phone rang. Smug friend’s maid needed a week off! Her maava na magaa had been put into aaspatre. Well, well.
While the rest of the crowd looked on half amused , half sympathetic, my mother revealed our unique situation. With apartments springing up everywhere, home owners like us, have become a troubled lot. Floor-hopping holds greater sway over these maids who are reluctant to be stuck in one house for half a day. Fed up, my mother changed her approach. Dinaa cooli became the new mantra.
Post breakfast, my parents would go out scouting for a maid and anyone that looked safe enough to approach and was ready for a quick single, was brought home. The maid-of- the-match would save the day, and walk - never to be called again. This carried on for a couple of weeks. My mother would roll the pitch, the maid would run her innings and … out.
Our friend watched this show, curiously, on one of his visits. That same week, he donned the cap of Captain- Team Maid. Sticky wicket, yes, but took spin well. He would go out for the grocery and dutifully return with a new maid!
We were just laughing over the whole thing (cricket score in due check) when my smug friend’s dad clapped his hands and said, ‘First class! I’m doing the same as him now’.
Like a shot, our friend’s grandson, all of five, concluded, in a high pitch, for everyone present.
‘Yaaaaaaa! Just tell my Thatha. He buys them from the shop, you know? He brought one yesterday only. They are goooood.’ Eyebrows perked, he nodded earnestly.
Uproar from the TV corner. Beautiful timing. Dhoni hit another six and our host settled down with the remote. Beat.
Match over, the jibes that followed are best kept out of print.
~
www.bangaloremirror.com -- Bangalore Talking -- Blog Talk -- One-Day maid service is here
Comments
India is so different!
Ujjwal-
You bet. And that was a mean lesson ,)
mikec-
Thanks for visiting, Mike. I am glad you found this funny. It was a riot at the actual scene :)
And you are right about India. It is different- you should give it a go. Bangalore first :)
Keep reading.