Lets face it; I am no Martha effing Stewart. Not even a Suzy, the homemaker. Moms who bake their own whole wheat bread loaves scare me. Women who bake and bring brownies to their work place annoy me. Women who throw dinner parties (with a theme at that) with place cards, props, matching menus and serve food that fit into the overall color scheme spook me. And my mom makes me feel downright inadequate. How do they do it? Better yet, how can I continue getting away not doing it?
Remember Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak (QSQT)? Cute movie for its times huh? Not. That movie is nothing but a bunch of lies woven together by someone’s rather sadistic imagination. A particular scene comes to mind; Juhi and Aamir have run away from home, (Sang a song) built a little thatch roofed house, (Sang a song), Aamir sets off to work, (Singing a song) and Juhi sits down to cook. Except, she can’t cook. She burns, chars and annihilates (notice the lack of Song). Instead of looking like an incompetent daft, she comes off as charming, even endearing and dear Aamir falls in love with her, just a little bit more (now, there’s a Song). Bull. Hindi movies are so full of crap. I have tried that little trick too, burnt things you know, looked hapless, even had a bit of aata on my cute little nose while waging a war with the belan, but it has never quite worked, dammit.
Oh and at the end of QSQT, our two main protagonists commit suicide. Now, why does that come as a surprise to anyone? (You might think that the (un)cooking escapades had nothing to do with the suicides, but subliminally it was all related!)
The two things I miss most about India are my Dhobhi-wallah and Press-wallah. That which was taken for granted is now a luxury I covet (sniff). Seriously, I hate doing laundry. And I can never get to fold clothes immediately after the dry cycle is done. There’s always that one more thing I have to do just then, and of course I forget all about the laundry! The result, fiercely crunched up clothes that need excavating tools to straighten out! Actually, on few rare occasions, I have tried folding them immediately, I have even hung them on hangers immediately but the creases never go. And then I see an effing Martha show where she dedicates a whole hour on folding clothes and I still learn nothing. (Seriously though, I want whatever she is on!) Now am down to ironing whatever I need to wear nanoseconds before actually stepping out and earning a bad rap for always being late as a consequence!
After many, many trips, my neighborhood laundry guy is mighty happy though. And the fact that his two sons look like models out of an Abercrombie catalogue, do nothing to motivate me to stay away!
We recently bought a house and me being I, made sure we buy a house without a yard. But of course, I had to get some plants right? Otherwise a patio is just so bland. And I forgot to water, almost everyday. Then, I would suddenly remember four days later, so I would water four bottles down (one for each day!) and I can tell you from experience, it doesn’t work! I was quite happy too passing off my little dried out potted pony palm as an exotic dry desert palm till a genius came along and said before you have pets or children, it’s a good idea to see if you can be responsible enough to run a garden.
Now I Tivo Martha.