I shouldn’t have to be complaining about this basic shit 7/20/08

by f

This entry is from my Subrosa archives. Look to read another installment of my series on diary keeping soon.

The more I talk to D, the more I realize how stupid and spoilt the people in my family are by comparison — and this to what I’m used to and I’m no great point of comparison. I mean, I’ve never seriously wanted for money and my parents footed my college bill after the marginal sum any scholarships gave me. That’s quite a bit more than a lot of children can say about their parents.

We don’t, however, have domestic help at home that takes care of dishes, laundry and food. I do the laundry and dishes at home. I see friends twice a month. I spend around forty dollars a month on myself and I consider that an exorbitant sum. (This is all back-money from my piano lessons.) I clean my room. I cook dinner at home. I dust, I mop the floors, I clean the bathrooms.

This is what normal people do for their homes and the very fact that I’m mentioning any of this on a site is laughable. People just do these things. End of story.

Perhaps not. I can name the people in my family who do their own laundry on one of my hands. Or do their ironing. Or wash their dishes. Or cook their food.
When W and his family lived with my grandmother and her large extended family — and this was for most of his life — they received the same privileges to the point where they didn’t know their shoe-sizes — my grandmother and the servants did.

Fast forward some fifteen years and she’s still doing is laundry while he’s here. (I did S’s laundry [W’s twin]  — and washed his phone for him.) He wants my grandmother to come to his room and clean it for him.

“So I have to hide the condoms,” he said.

I let him have it. An eighty plus year old woman cleaning out his room for him? What insanity.

I am really going to have to straighten him out. “He’s got a lot of growing up to do,” I told S that one night that we were talking.

And he said, “Is it growing up that he HAS to do or growing up that you feel he needs to do because you’d like him to approach your idea of the perfect whatever?”

I thought about that for awhile and now I have my answer. In some ways there are some things that I want to tell W about that make me feel uncomfortable but purely on a personal level. But sometimes the way he treats others, I can’t stand it.

There’s a lot about my particular Brahmin subset society that I have a problem with. Formerly too elitist, we have slipped down to the level of people that enjoy classless over-sexed bollywood entertainment. I say classless — a very elitist adjective, I guess — because it has no artistic value. The costumes are gauche, it’s very adult, there’s a total rejection of childhood. The music is too loud and is punctuated with sexy breathing. The beat isn’t even a redeeming factor. It is monotonous. Not varied. I understand the appeal of American pop music in the sense that sometimes there can be creative beats abstracted from the track, set to dancing etc. None of that in the Bollywood repertoire This comes off as puritanical, but I just don’t like the way it sounds and I don’t like watching women jumping around in bright dresses with their stomachs either flat or giggling. It’s gauche. Crude. And my whole family buys into that kind of thing. Because I didn’t wear a Christmas Tree sari, instead wearing a black silk, I was reamed at by my relatives for being old fashioned and “just no fun to be around.” I’m more fun than a list of achievements, bad dancing, and music with no lyrics. I’m more fun than an unlimited supply of bad-quality alcohol. I’m so fun that I’m going to disown this bunch of clowns as soon as I move out of the house.

After all, they don’t pass the laundry test, or the test of not getting other people to do their crap.

W came home today and I gave him a huge smile on my face and said, “You see that pile of clothes next to the washer? That’s what you left behind last time you were here.”

And then, when he looked at me blankly, I snapped, “Wash them.”

He nodded.

One Comment to “I shouldn’t have to be complaining about this basic shit 7/20/08”

  1. I don’t think that you were AT ALL out of line for expecting W to clean up after himself rather than waiting for an 80+ year old woman to do it for him. Laziness is something that can only be overcome, in these instances, with not allowing it. People who are so used to others doing things for them will naturally just expect it. That doesn’t mean it’s okay or that it’s right. At some point, someone has to say, “Hey…this isn’t right, you can do your own cleaning better than an old woman can, so do it yourself.”

    And as for the reaming over the sari, I think a Christmas Tree sari would be gaudy. I don’t see the problem with black silk. I think it would’ve been prettier. But, then again, I’m also told I’m old fashioned. But, unlike others who dislike being called old fashioned, I kind of like it. So what if people don’t consider things that I like in style? *I* consider them in style and that is what counts.

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