Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Sulk from Home






Of all the disasters that struck us in the aftermath of Covid-19 – grocery shortage, social distancing and work-from-home, I’m dreading the third. Work-from-home is an idea most envied after Anil Kapoor’s youthful looks and most anticipated after Salman Khan’s wedding. 
And yet, it is torture for someone who has always worked from home. No school, no office and no maid. Everyone in the family is going to work from home. As more and more condos contemplate cocooning themselves, I feel like Tom Hanks from Castaway. 

As it unfolds, maids have been asked to go on a paid leave. Karuna Go, Go Karuna. Mine rolled her eyes and shrugged, “Pata nahi upar wali Didi ko kya ho gaya hai. She never gave me a day off. Today she said don’t come unless I call you.” 

At first the idea of WFH seems as romantic as Nick and Priyanka's chemistry. Away from the stress and misery of travel, you have time to pursue hobbies, spend time with kids, bake and play board games. But after a few games of Monopoly, burnt cakes and Netflix, you itch to go out. Socialize. With doctors on the TV panel and no respect for religion and hate that binds us, TV debates have become boring too. How much Netflix can you watch? Why isn't Arnab shouting at the panel doctors?

Given the nice person that I’m, I don’t mean to scare you. But picture this. Your kids are screaming and jumping on the new couch, painting the walls with crayons and the husband hollers, “Control these demons, I’m on a call.” Not to worry because your boss on the other side is battling the same demons. 

Stick with me and I’ll tell you why this work from home scenario is not pumping up the sunshine for me. And I’m not alone. Anxious moms in my Facebook group have begun asking, “How to survive the partner in a WFH situation?” 
“Quarantine the husband”, made the most sense. 

At first it will feel like you are on a vacation. But after two days of waking up late, ruffling each other’s hair, you will dread the sight of your partner in pyjamas and T-shirt that says ‘Every man should get married, no man should go unpunished’. 

Then one fine day, when he looks at you with puppy eyes, know that he’s going to ask you for coffee and some snack to go with it. Again. But if you are on a call and she asks you to switch off the gas after the third whistle of the pressure cooker, all hell of equality can break lose. Can. Can is the key word. Of course, I don’t mean to scare you. 

After some deafening silence when you hear only the washing machine in the back ground, one of you will go for the broke and say, “WTF, I hate this freaking WFH.” 

Suddenly your computer screens frost as you move into separate rooms. Whether you have work or not, ensure you have Twitter to vent it out on China. Social media is cathartic that way. I do that everyday.

Come evening, you will try to make up as you can’t go out. Stuck with each other, things will cool down, depending on your ego and tolerance. Know that this is what’s going on behind every balcony with people singing songs, ‘Hum Honge Kamyaab’. 
Eventually, one of you will have to say sorry because some idiot in Wuhan slurped Bat soup. 
People are calling him a racist but I’m beginning to love Professor  of Orange Hair County, Donald Trump. If the West can make jokes about Delhi Belly after a few trips to the loo, I have the right to shout from my balcony, “Damn you Chinese Virus.” 

On a positive note, this too shall pass like Dabangg 3 and Love Aaj Kal 2. Hoping that our TV debates will soon go back to relevant issues like #Will RW boycott Ranveer Deepika’s upcoming movie  83? # How Tapsee Pannu gave a befitting reply to her trolls. 

Remember, I don't mean to scare you. 


Image courtesy free images from Shutter stock

3 comments:

  1. Looks like we are in a long haul to WFH:) Stay safe, stay healthy

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  2. That is a delicious mix of WFH, and Quarantine. The in situ distraction has sharpened your sense of irony, if anything. I can relate to all of those foibles of the lesser half, and fretting of the better one (and the master of WFH). You see, the craving for a fresh cuppa complimented with snacks has been coded in husbands at genetic level. You edit that gene and what you may end up with is a transgender whose performance quotient peaks on growling traffic junctions.

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  3. Itching to throw caution to the winds and step out screaming Go Corona Go! Any case the society gardens are empty so obviously nobody at the windows overlooking it, to see me doing it! WFH is a nightmare and I can't wait to chase the brat+hubby duo out!

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