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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1042145-An-Educated-Housewife
by Carol
Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #1042145
A common story of an Indian housewife.
“Ma! My education would not only be useful to me, but will also be useful to the society
and to the country.” Sakshi would say to her mother.

Her mother insisted that she should learn household chores. Only studying would not
help her in life.

“Of course I’ll learn that too Ma. When did I say that those are not important but my first
priority will be my studies.”

Her mother smiled and got back to work, she said to herself, “At least she is studying.
Some girls do neither. My first two daughters got married this one will get married too.”

Sakshi continued her studies as well as learned to do the household chores. She had heard
her mother tell her relatives many times, “ This girl of mine is very smart. She excels
both in studies as well as the household tasks. She’ll be a boon to anyone who marries her.”
Sakshi would listen to this talk and wonder, why whenever they talk about her it was
always related to marriage. Why didn’t they say, wherever she worked she would excel.
She was the topper yet they never thought on the terms of her career.

As it happened with her sisters so it happened with her. The only difference being that
because of her desire to study she did her M.ED (Master of Education) after her M.A (
Master of Arts).

Her father got her married to a groom of high education. A few months after marriage,
Sakshi told her husband, “Now I can use my education. If we both earn there would be no
financial difficulty.”
But Pranab told her, “ This is not the reason you are educated.”
“Then why is it?”
“That’s for a good family life”

Sakshi used to tell her mother that she was studying for the society and the country.
Pranab joined family life to it. Pranab was a government employee and he was
transferred to Calcutta. Sakshi thought that this was no time to fight about her desire to
work and to get on with her married life. She was married into a middle class family and
so she had to manage the house within a limited budget. Taking up the challenge she
went about her life in making the perfect home for her family. Very soon she was the
mother of three kids. Their care, education and more over the managing the home budget
and being the perfect wife was no easy job. She had to cook, entertain guests and other
errands after which Sakshi hardly had any time to read books. All she could do is hold
them and hope to read them sometime in the future. All she had time for now is to read
the newspapers. Besides that she had lost touch with the world of knowledge. A time
would come when she will be free from all this work.

Once it so happened that when her elder son was 12 years old and her other sons
managed to be on their own. A principal from a nearby college wrote to her, “There is a
post available for a geography teacher and we request you to join us. Keeping your
qualifications and your husband’s status in mind we would also want to make you the
headmistress.”

Sakshi told her husband, “My education would be of help here and we won’t have
financial difficulties.”

Pranab stared hard at her and declared, “I don’t want my children to grow up at the hands
of the servants and considering financial difficulties, I don’t see any. Your education is
not for the purpose of a job, it is to see that you look after the children well and bring
them up to be good human beings. You can be a bread winner only when the real bread
winner is no more.”

Sakshi understood that Pranab would never allow her to work as long as he was alive and
talking to him would be like throwing a ball against a wall. His decision would never
change. She thought as long as her children grew up right, she didn’t mind the little
financial difficulty. She now dedicated her life to her children and placed her dreams and
ambitions in them.

The time came when all her children had made a place for themselves in the world but
then it was too late. Sakshi was no longer young or strong enough to work and there truly
were no financial difficulties. But there was a lot of time to read. She read various books
and magazines and increased her knowledge. She felt she could talk on any subject but
there was no one she could talk to. Pranab had become a senior government employee
and was busy most of the time. Moreover, what would he talk as he never thought her
anything more than a housewife. Her children’s career was such that they rarely came
together.

This time only Dhruv had come. Pranab had finished his breakfast and gone to the study
room. Dhruv had sat down for breakfast and was enjoying his favorite dish, which Sakshi
had made for him. At breakfast they talked about family and other general things.

Dhruv complemented his mother, “Mummy, no one makes rice cakes as you do and this
lentil pudding is just divine. I feel like eating more and more.”

“Take son have more then, we cannot eat this anymore.”

As soon as Dhruv finished his breakfast he got up and started to wash his hands. He
seemed to be in a hurry now. His mother asked him, “Why are you in a hurry Dhruv?
You are going tomorrow. Ok tell me something about………..”

The sentence wasn’t even complete when Dhruv got up.

“Mummy, I will just speak to Papa before he leaves for office. I need his advice.”
“Tell me what’s your problem, may be I can help.”

Dhruv looked affectionately at his mother. An innocent smile spread over his face. His
smile reflected the time when as a child his mother had placed two small sweet balls in
his tiny hand.

“Oh Mummy, forget it. You will not understand. The issue might give you a headache
and I don’t want that to happen because for lunch I want to eat that special fried rice that
you make.”

Sakshi smiled at her son but deep down she felt her whole being had shaken. Was this the
limit for her education? Was this all that she could give her children, a tasty lunch and
lots of love? She was just what she had been, an educated housewife, that’s it.
© Copyright 2005 Carol (reena at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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