The Ninth Sense

Am not averse to self isolation, so the imposed isolation due to virus and the lockdown from the government is not affecting me.

Yet, I am getting triggered

I had maids cleaning the house and cooking some for me. Now, no maids are allowed, so I have to step up and do whatever needs done.

I have a teenager and a dog. They need food, the laundry must be done, the house cleaned, dishes washed. For the past many years stepping into the kitchen was impossible for me.

Yesterday as I washed dishes, memories started to come back. As a child, as a girl, I was always cleaning or cooking or washing clothes in a bucket, folding and ironing. It was just something I had to do, no choices. Also, I could not see my dad doing stuff alone, I had to help. I remember the kindness in his eyes and the gratitude with which he would thank me for all my efforts. He would say, baby, you must be tired, can I make you tea? Some mornings he would wake up and have tears in his eyes, “baby, you were cleaning the kitchen last night while we slept, it looks really nice and sparkly. Thank you. Let’s try and keep it this way, he would tell others

But nobody paid a mind or heed what he was asking. Within hours my mother would destroy everything, make a mess and laugh about it and apologize and I believed her apology. But it happened again n again n again for 50 years.

Why did I want to please everybody?

Because I was a bad girl. I didnt get good Mark’s in school, I couldnt so math, I barely passed, i was ugly and a disappointment to a family of highly educated people. Not one compliment I received. Everything I did was wrong, the bedsheets could have been tucked better. “Why didnt you do this, instead of what you did” that’s what I heard everyday, every hour.

But I remember the times when my father would hug me and tell me I was a good girl. I remember how he looked at me, with a smile and kindness in his eyes. How he thanked me for every little thing I did.

I feel that’s what gave me strength to survive anything that came my way…it made me a fighter, it made me angry and determined.

I didnt realize until recently that I was a girl, a woman, and that’s how I was being treated.

Then how come my father was so kind to me. He died 8 years ago and today I can see him, I know him and I thank him for the sacrifices he made. I know he loves me and i know i am a better person today because of him.

His life was not a waste and mine will get better…that’s all I know!