Chronicles of a man’s stupidity as a housewife! – Episode 1 – The Foot Rug Episode

Chronicles of a man’s stupidity as a housewife! – Episode 1 – The Foot Rug Episode

Much before my wife went into a wheelchair, I had all the characteristics of becoming a housewife, so gladly embraced this destiny when I was required to do so. Little I knew was that there is a huge difference between a man and a woman when it comes to the expression of being a housewife. This chronicle will attempt to unveil the series of such differences, hope some will find some humor, some will find solace etc. etc.

The photo above is the foot rug I decommissioned from the front door much before its retirement age. I sent it to the garage which unfortunately needs a foot rug because it looks like a disaster zone as I have not included that region under my responsibility yet and there is no one else to fill that void.

The thought was to upgrade this foot rug with a new one, the new one I could find and feel as a better upgrade was a fusion one, fusion of coir on the top and rubber base. While the man in me liked it, the woman in me as a housewife suspected its credential. But, as it was a shopping chore, the man won, temporarily.

But this foot rug did not survive long. Don’t know whether it is the poor quality of the product or the excess anger in our domestic help persons who beat it to the outside wall of our home to get all the sands and dust out, or it is our battalion of cats who need it to sharpen their claws as a regular routine many times a day with this foot rug along with many other precious objects like cycle tire, sofa etc.  The man in me ignored the disfigurement, being an engineer the argument was that it is still functional, so leave it alone. My wife is/was a decent housewife, but she could not notice it much, as we need to keep this foot rug aside when we have to pass her wheelchair in and out, also her attention at that time would be the violent shake she needs to endure while we have to push the wheel chair up and down the infra unevenness at the main door.

There is an ongoing battle between the man the supreme and the evolving housewife, both  within me. The housewife started nagging that this is a disgrace, the first impression one gets as they enter our house is so poor, they anyway don’t need to search for imperfections in our house, they all dance around like an eternal dope party, but you don’t need to scare them by transforming this eternal party into a scary dance of Shiva Thandava.  The housewife in me eventually won, primarily through constant internal nagging. The man in me agreed that he will shop for a better one, when it is convenient. By definition, shopping when convenient means the concerted effort starts only after six months of cope up of inaction before having to shop.

So, the man who goes for shopping every week, started looking for replacements in the super markets he visited. All of them had fusion types which are proven to be disasters, lacking taste and quality in design, and are also bit expensive for their value. The housewife in me rejected all of them in no time. So, more than six months passed with a shopping impasse. The jittery in the housewife was growing in the mean time as the tear ups in the current foot rugs were spreading all over.

As my current hobbies are more of running multiple YouTube Channels (PaakaAashrama Recipes, Ashrama Gardens and  my own personal channel; Please note the housewife in me wants me to beg you to visit all these channels, subscribe all of them and watch all the videos already there and the ones coming in the future without fail! Please help!!), the man in me started locking up the housewife in a corner cupboard whenever she made noise, so that he can do more of this interesting work. The physical exercise came down to dangerous levels.  So, one day the housewife in me made a huge drama, she was unconsolable, she was constantly shouting at me with attempted tears and what not, she blamed me, “You don’t even spend time with your urban evergreen jungle above, it being a jungle is convenient to you to do any useful work there and get some excercize, you calling your jungle as almost ZBNF (zero budget natural farming) is ok with me as it allows us to save some money which we need to because you quit working much long before your retirement age (I retired at age of 45 to avoid 5 hours of driving in traffic, needing to work 18 hours a day, and dieing with a heart attack in the middle of bad traffic at an early age with the stress, lack of sleep, lack of daily rhythm and no fun at all and having to abandon the family with all the doom possible, relative poverty with all the time in my hand sounded much saner), but now you are also calling it as “zero effort” farming, your gardening friends out there may think that it is a smart thing (because they too are stupid like you), but I know that it is your sheer irresponsibility of having to do minimum work to maintain what you have grown”.

The man in me wanted to avoid all this drama, he could quickly recollect that it is all about the foot rug not being replaced. So, he decided to address the lack of exercise first. So, he decided to walk into the bank branch ATM which is one km away on the Katriguppe Main Road (usual routine is to go by car). One km up and down was indeed a good exercise, so this trip happened, the rain co-operated. The man was filling all sane and happy while returning. There was this Himachal Pradesh Handlooms based shop-hut right in front of the Big Bazaar, the elated man decided to attempt shopping for the foot rug there. They had a genuine coir foot rug, bit expensive (Rs. 275), but better value than the other stupid fusion ones.  The man enquired with the housewife, she simply said that shopping is man’s long pending duty, and she will leave him alone this time to do his part and she went into a convenient slumber.  The man left alone, got excited for being left alone, the excitement went up when he saw that the foot rug is quite thick. The man’s logic was quite simple that this thickness is a good deal and should help to last longer against the tortures of cats and domestic helps, he gladly bought it without much fight of negotiating the price (Remember the housewife in me was in a deep slumber, still the man was proud to bring the price down to Rs. 250).

So the man returns home very proud with the prize catch, the first thing he does is to retire the old foot rug by kicking it in the butt straight to the dustbin, and proudly installing the new one.

But there was a problem, the foot rug is too thick for the main door to open and close on top of it. The housewife woke up immediately and gave such a dirty look with all silence and contempt, the man shrunk further hoping that the foot rug too will go through same shrinkage sooner to become viable. So, this eternal hope of shrinkage brought the temporary peace in the man and woman in me. The man made a pact with all the members of the home that the foot rug will be kept aside the door than at the entrance right below the front door. Since all other members of the home are used to the man in me, they all agreed with artful ability of hiding their smile on yet another stupidity. The woman in me simply gave a look which conveyed that I am 1000 times stupid than actually I am. With that look, there was a closure on this episode for now.

In the mean time, if you visit our home (if you have stamina to do so), this is how we will welcome you. You need to take a right turn to meet the foot rug, then turn again to come in.

Post Script: Oct 19, 2017

Over the use through last one month or so, the rug height has shrunk now, and the door can open and close over it. The male in me has his smile back. Even stupidity has its hopes cut out!