What We Have And What We Want

What We Have And What We Want

It was 10-am, the first coffee-break time at the office. Everyone trooped into the office kitchen coffee mugs in hand and lined up at the hot water dispenser. They filled their mugs, took the little paper tubes of coffee or teabags,sugar, milk and the biscuits or cakes on the serving table and found their way to their favourite seats next to their favourite colleagues for a chat.

As usual, people talked about how their previous day or the weekend had been, about pressing personal issues or gossiped for a few minutes, before heading back to their work. It was a great de-stresser in the mornings after the first spell of work that began early at 7 am. It gave a chance for people to let out their personal feelings a bit. It gave employees an idea of how their collegues felt that day and how they might need to be dealt with. Managers made it a point to come to these coffee breaks as per recommended office policy.

At one table where there were four women seated, one woman who looked a bit stressed was asked, "Agnes, How are you, doing?"

Everyone knew what was coming. They had heard her before.

She started in the usual way, " Dont get me started!! My husband trails dirt on to the just cleaned carpet floor with his dirty muddy boots, yesterday after doing the yard work. Supposedly saved me a packet, but it was tiring cleaning up after him.He cant get the shopping done right, nor the clothes, nor clean up. He can do nothing properly without me cleaning up after him. Every time he does something to 'help' me, I have something more to do. Drives me up the wall!!
My children make a mess around the house - spilling food, drinks, dribbling, throwing up
(something atleast once an hour). The little one cries, needs attention, the two year old whinges and whines - I cannot get a moment's peace at home. Lucky, I have my mother to help me when we both go to work. We need the money, but truly, I am thankful to be at the office. I slow down, get my work done and get a break from all the mess, stress and noise at home. Helps keep my sanity. Honestly, sometimes I wish they would all go away somewhere and leave me alone. I want some peace, some quiet, some time for myself, to look around, enjoy the sunshine or rain or smell the roses that grow in my garden. I wish I could afford to travel somewhere exotic or go to a fancy restaurant once a month.

There!! I have let it all out! Tell me how you are doing, Bobby?" she finished, passing on the turn to speak to the woman next to her.

"Oh, I am fine. No husband, no kids. My apartment is small and clean. I have time to read, listen to music, took a walk, met some nice neighbours, chatted, had tea with them, a fine day. I go out to the movies, concerts, library and dances. I can afford the nice things in life and travel around too. I am happy with life," replied Bobby.

Bobby as usual did not say much more. She looked down the table to the next person,"Yes Chloe! How are you doing?"

"Well, my house is a bit like Agnes'. It is a mess too. I can relate to what Agnes's says. My husband Rob has two left hands with all thumbs. He is also a bit cranky to boot! My kids are the same as Agnes'. Between me and Rob, both working, we barely manage to pay for the daycare. I have no time at all for myself, travel or go out to eat. The last time we went out to eat at a restaurant to save some effort on cooking, it was a memorable occasion - the mess the kids made, one pulled the table cloth down on to the floor with all the dishes. I guess things will get better as the kids grow older. But I am quite happy with life. Would not trade any of it for anything else in the world," said Chloe quietly.

All looked at Denise next. She was the oldest of them all, middle-aged. She was one of the quietest usually, tough, fair, but well liked.

"My situation is a lot like Bobby's. I am single, comfortable clean little house, very little needs to be done. All the time in the world for me. I can do anything I want. Everyone around my neighbourhood is nice. But I am not happy with life," she said.

"Why?!! What is bothering you? What do you want?" There was a chorus of questions from around the table.

Denise looked around, her eyes settled on Agnes briefly and moved on, around the table, making eye contact with each of them. Her normally placid expression changed - an expression of incredible sadness came over her face, like a mask was slipped on.

She started quietly,"I wish I had a husband who loved me. I would happily clean up after his mess. I wish I had kids that made messes and noises and drove me up the walls. I would not mind being dog-tired at the end of the day. I would welcome the whinging of two kids and a husband. I would not care to go out and eat or travel anywhere if had a full family. In my old age, I would be happy just looking at them, remembering all I had to go through to get them there."

She paused for a moment. Then she resumed," I, I, envy you all, even Bobby, because she is happy as she is.. I wish..." it was more than she could bear her voice quavered a bit. She stopped, swallowed. A tear, seemed to slip from her eyes and made its way silently down her cheek.

Everyone was silent for a moment before going around the give her a group hug.

They all walked away in deep thought after the break.


Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2013

All rights reserved 

Baby Koala On  Daddy Tree

I took the local metro train just the other day to go to another end of Melbourne from where I live. It was just after dropping my kids off to school, just after peak hour in the morning. It was about 9.30am when I got on the train.

I found a seat near the doors, but two rows away from them. Usually the rows nearest to the doors are special seats - upon request they need to be given up for people with special needs. As we passed a couple of stations, all the seats filled up.

A young couple and a couple of old ladies came over. People moved to give them the seats near the doors. There was a young mother with her baby in her arms and the pram next to her. Several older men and women stood near the doors - they were still proud and able to stand and perhaps others were aware and sensitive, not to offend them by offering up a seat unless asked. In general, I have found that Melbourne people are very kind, polite, thoughtful and sensitive. I am always impressed by their helpful nature.

As we passed more stations more people got in than got out. It was getting crowded, but not jam packed. I noted that most of my fellow travellers, both young and old, these days were 'phubbing (phone-snubbing)' - looking into their smart phones or little tablets while apparently ignoring the people around them.

As my gaze went around from the scenery outside to the people within, I suddenly saw a cute, pretty little face, framed by lovely, long golden hair that went from straight to waves to curls at the very tips below the shoulders, appear in the middle of two adults standing and rise up to adult height. The charming blue eyes were surrounded by slightly red-streaked whites - must have been tired or had been rubbed lately.

The natural red lips held a smile of satisfaction as two little arms appeared around the neck of a man who stood with his shoulders leaning against the metal pole near the door, facing away from me. The person standing next to the man moved slightly and a little leg appeared between them, shod in pretty little shoes, stockings and a longish denim skirt over it. I could only see the side of the man's face from behind, a reddish beard that was soon covered as the little girl snuggled her face next to his, and rested her face near his collar bone. One arm of the little girl covered her face as she buried her face in the comfortable space. I could only see her golden head and one eyebrow, her hands clasped together behind the man's neck, with a large brown leaf still in her hand. She must have picked it up from play recently and it was probably intended for her own private collection at home. I reckoned the little girl would be about 3 years of age, her full circle of arms just barely fit around the man's neck. She took a peeping look around, with one eye roving, visible over the arm that hid her face. I could tell it was her dad, the way she seemed to be on a familiar perch.

The chatter of the passengers, one playing loud music, some talking loudly on the phone, the shake and rattle of the train and the crowds pressing around did not seem to matter. The gentle rocking motion of the train seemed to lull the little girl to sleep. The little girl looked like a Koala bear cub sleeping on Daddy Tree! It is amazing how parents create a little safe, comfort space, like a cocoon around their little ones, in the midst of heat, crowds, noise, movement and hazards.

It suddenly reminded me of my own little ones, when they were younger, just the other day it seems (actually few years ago). My daughter would climb on to me and I remembered the touch. I knew how that dad felt. It was one of the best feelings in the world. I would sometimes have both my kids, one on either side (or one piggy back and the other draped on my chest). We would be returning home from a late footy game or a day out on the town, riding the train back to where we lived in the suburbs. The pram was for all the bags and stuff. I was the preferred vehicle while on a crowded train if we did not find seating, or when we walked home from the station.

As the stations passed and we neared the city centre, more passengers got out than got in. The crowds thinned, and I noted that the man was still standing - like a bent tree, with his shoulder resting on the metal pole with his hips outwards, while he supported the little girl with the sling made of his hands clasped together. He had tried to give the girl as much of a horizontal incline as his body would allow in that position. He could have turned around and anyone would have given their seat. He did not move at all. The little girl continued to sleep, with the big brown leaf still clasped in her hand, behind her father's neck. I remembered that I too preferred to stand and hold my kids more comfortably if they wanted to sleep rather than sitting in a crowded train or bus. As the crowds thinned out, the seats near the door become empty and still the man remained as we passed more stations. Suddenly the little girl woke up, with a yawn she smothered with one hand, careful not to let go of her leaf. She was then set down gently and held on to the man's legs.

I had to get up and get off at the next station. As I passed the man and his girl, I noted that he all along had another little boy, older than the girl, who was standing next to him and had his arms around his waist, and standing on one of the foot of his father, while his sister stood on the other foot.

One look at the man and I could tell why he was a happy father with happy kids! He reminded me of myself, just a few years ago. Those times are gone quickly and gone for ever.

"Enjoy them while you can," I wished it silently to the man as I got off the train!



Copyright  (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2013

All rights reserved