Mom’s Strength
I was packing all of my things to move out of my current house. While packing some items in the kitchen, I was thrown back to the days when four of us used to live here and work. One day to be exact, viz. the cleaning day.
It was a warm day in Chennai and we saw the long-settled dust in the hallway. I'm not sure if it was an empty calendar or a sudden rise in motivation that made one among us, the responsible one we may call him, to put forth the idea of cleaning the apartment. Though skeptical at first, we finally decided to get to work. The day rushed by as four of us dusted and wiped, cleaned with water and then dried, every nook and corner of our home. It was an extremely tiring day, with all of us just wanting to sleep forever after it. However, when all was done, we were grateful that we did something productive.
Now, this as such is not a great story- I agree if you felt that. However, what I really wanted to tell is an alternate story that rushed to my mind right after this. The day my parents visited.
The four of us cleaning story happened a few weeks, maybe a month and a half before my parents' visit. For reference, a week of us living in that apartment is enough for us to undo the "productive work" we had done. When my parents saw the house, their reaction was way better than what I had anticipated. It would've taken an hour or two after settling in when my mother just took the broom and started cleaning the house. I clearly remembered how tired I was after the cleaning day and I really didn't want that to be my state for we had a big day planned ahead of us. I ended up chatting to my dad about the city while my mom continued her work happily. It would've taken her two, maybe three hours to restore the apartment back to it's former glory. What went right over my head was how effortless she made it look. On top of this, she came with us for the outing and did not look a tad tired than any of us by the end of the day. I asked her how she did that, and all I got was a smile.
Standing here, looking at my packed bags and the dust that have settled into the corners of my bedroom, the epiphany I have is if the idea of men being physically superior to woman is nothing but a wrong perception.
It was a warm day in Chennai and we saw the long-settled dust in the hallway. I'm not sure if it was an empty calendar or a sudden rise in motivation that made one among us, the responsible one we may call him, to put forth the idea of cleaning the apartment. Though skeptical at first, we finally decided to get to work. The day rushed by as four of us dusted and wiped, cleaned with water and then dried, every nook and corner of our home. It was an extremely tiring day, with all of us just wanting to sleep forever after it. However, when all was done, we were grateful that we did something productive.
Now, this as such is not a great story- I agree if you felt that. However, what I really wanted to tell is an alternate story that rushed to my mind right after this. The day my parents visited.
The four of us cleaning story happened a few weeks, maybe a month and a half before my parents' visit. For reference, a week of us living in that apartment is enough for us to undo the "productive work" we had done. When my parents saw the house, their reaction was way better than what I had anticipated. It would've taken an hour or two after settling in when my mother just took the broom and started cleaning the house. I clearly remembered how tired I was after the cleaning day and I really didn't want that to be my state for we had a big day planned ahead of us. I ended up chatting to my dad about the city while my mom continued her work happily. It would've taken her two, maybe three hours to restore the apartment back to it's former glory. What went right over my head was how effortless she made it look. On top of this, she came with us for the outing and did not look a tad tired than any of us by the end of the day. I asked her how she did that, and all I got was a smile.
Standing here, looking at my packed bags and the dust that have settled into the corners of my bedroom, the epiphany I have is if the idea of men being physically superior to woman is nothing but a wrong perception.
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