Multi-tasking Women. A Convenient Myth?

A housewife’s job is never done. That’s the truest cliché in the world. Now add work to it, and a couple of kids. Maybe a parent or two… Is it any wonder then, that when we women are depicted as goddesses, we are invariably shown as multi-armed, docile and gorgeous? An occasional show of fierce tongue appears here and there for sure, but that’s really just a cute extension of the ‘Devi in the street and Sridevi in the sheets’ kind of thing.

That got me thinking. Maybe I should be docile more. Maybe I should be gorgeous more. Actually, neither crossed my mind. But what did is, how much of a multi-tasking, work-and-home straddling superwoman am I? Am I multi-tasking enough? Am I multi-tasking at all?  Science tells me if anyone is genetically engineered to be able to process things simultaneously, it is the female of the species. And science never lies. Right? But the truth is, I do it for the reason I do most things: It just won’t get done otherwise.

I have a strong feeling that this is no scientific fact either, but just a convenient myth perpetrated by a clever, clever bunch of ‘others’.  A fact further reinforced by the stereotyping in movies and party jokes and ads and…

Just imagine this ad: A woman making five breakfast options for five entitled family members, while getting ready to go to office herself, while primping the white separate mode on the washing machine, while taking a selfie with baby on hip, while ignoring the back-pain with a swoosh of the resident painkiller spray… while the guy in the household smiles while she hands him his lunch dabba that he is too busy with office papers to remember to carry, while the super white-toothed smile never leaves her face… a kiss on the forehead makes it all worthwhile. Other than being a formidably long, unaffordable TV spot , so normal right? Yeah right.

Reality is so far from this, it’s hilarious. Yet, that doesn’t stop anyone from perpetrating this brilliant pressure tactic. Quite frankly, the perennial good hair day I can ignore, but this constant good mood the women in ads are shown having is just too much! Mornings at most homes, even the best run homes, have lots of yelling. Lots.

I have often wondered why some guys, even otherwise loving guys, dodge housework so deftly and so guiltlessly. A close guy friend of mine once told me, when I asked him if he did anything more than the bare minimum that he DID do, ‘She’ll start expecting more, ya.” That’s the big fear really. (But, when I pointed out that doing the dishes unbidden would get him more action in the bed–unbidden--things did improve, I believe.) But there he is, unwilling to be new-age anything if it involved sharing of house-work. He’d rather be new-age and say they were equal because they both worked, both partied, both did stuff together, but equality in home chores was asking a bit too much. It seems to be compounded when children come along.

Keeping work-home balance in check is really about the cheque at the end of the day-- a cheque that’s going to be enjoyed by all in the equation. So why the general depiction of women bearing the bulk of the home aspect? ‘That’s a woman’s job’ is not tacitly expressed, but it’s sort of, kind of, implied. Is it any wonder then that maids play such an important role in the urban woman’s life? (And the maid herself is the ultimate urban woman, though with very few of her employer’s perks.)

Take my maid for instance. If there was a 36 Chambers of Multitaskolin, my maid would be the Chief Abbot. Her day runs on a super-greased mode. It has to, because she juggles three kids and three jobs. Of course, the husband is mere comic relief. There is no expectation from him either. That’s what’s most surprising. She doesn’t ask him to help out in the household chores or give him any task to do. Never. And her day streams like your favourite show on a 100 MBPS fiber optic link.

Has she perfected the art of living? Or has she irretrievably internalized the uselessness of her male counterpart? Are we seriously improving our own lot by being these balancing artists? Does the scope of feminism include making puri baaji and grinding chutney…?

I shall ponder those points, but first let me go check if he left the milk coupon out or if I have to call Ravi Stores to deliver milk again…

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