A housewife: the woman who just won’t sit!



She is human on the outside at least. She is average to the world to say the least. Her breadth is

rampant and her steps steady. Her eyes tiresome and her shoulders droopy. The fatigue is evident and

so is the acceptability of the forceful daily tirade. To some it may seem like she has succumbed to the

monotony of her chores but to a watchful eye it is perseverance extraordinaire. She isn’t defeated,

neither has she surrendered to the unjust mediocrity of her affairs, that is so true to her existence yet

so unfaithful to her excellence. To some her efforts are futile, boring maybe. But to others she is no less

than a labor in bondage her work as tiring, as exact, as demanding. And yet, her bondage so different

where the former is bound by the grievance of his monetary state of affairs the latter is bound by the

goodness of her heart, by the love in her soul and the giving in her disposition. She doesn’t gets paid,

nor acknowledged far yet appreciated because to them she is a woman who chose the ‘easy’ way out,

who chose to be ordinary and common, who chose to stay in the comfort of her house and eat on the

expense of her ‘better’ half. To them she is a woman deficient of hard work, mental prowess and the

conviction to succeed. But Boy, do they know nothing! The word hard work itself falls short to describe

the effort she so selflessly endows, her ability to know by heart every corner and sheeny of her house

will put a bibliophile to shame and her tireless en-devour to make the house a home is enough credit

to her conviction. She would squat, kneel, bend, run, walk, genuflect and God knows what, but she just

won’t sit. Because she knows despite all adversity that if she ever sat down and took a long whole break,

her house would come crumpling down. So she stands like a pillar, subtle and strong, straight and tall,

holding the weight of all. Respect her, she is worth a lot more. She just doesn’t knows it and thank God for that.