“WHAT DO YOU DO</t= itle>  <style>  </style>  </head> <body lang=3DEN-US link=3D"#0066FF" vlink=3Dpurple style=3D'tab-interval:.5= in'> <div class=3DSection1> “WHAT DO YOU DO?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p>&nb= sp;</o:p> <o:p>&nb= sp;</o:p> At the New Year’s party last year, when our group was busy mak= ing resolutions to welcome 2005 with a new doggedness, an apparition in blue, dressed in almost blouseless sleeves, suddenly floated next to me. ‘What do you do?’ she asked me, sweetly. At first I was taken aback. If she was interested to know my private pledges, = this was grammatically a wrong question. Moreover, we weren’t so familiar = that on introduction she would enquire upon what I did for a living. One glance = at her sporty sari proclaimed that she was of a modern mindset. Therefore I presumed she was probably muddled up with the mode of welcome. Since the ‘Namaste’ days are almost extinct, I gathered it was perhaps ‘How do you do?’ she had in mind. <o:p>= </o:p> Spea= king of this western culture of a salutation, I must comment on its amusing overtone. Every time I am confronted with a ‘How do you do?’ I = am usually left speechless. Apparently, according to the rules of conversation= al etiquette, this form of a greeting has to be answered back, not with someth= ing like- ‘I’m fine, thank you!’ but with another ‘How = do you do?’ with undue stress on the particular word ‘do’ or ‘you’. Is it = really anybody’s business how I or you do? Anyway, since I am not in the hab= it of answering a question with a question, instead of breaking my own rules a= nd the rules of decorum, I just smile and turn my head away. Or safer still, I resort to our un-inquisitive customary way to greet the prying guest.<o:p><= /o:p> Coming back to the lady in b= lue, when she repeated her query I realized that the lady meant EGGJACKTLY what = she had said. She was genuinely interested in my occupation. ‘I writeR= 17;, I whispered, a little apprehensively. Again, let me take a small diversion.= My gentle but self-assured husband has advised me emphatically, to impart with this information to anybody who dares to question me about what exactly it = is I am. ‘You are an author now’, he says with an assertion I find so hard to establish. ‘So why do you always mutter- “I am just<= /i> a housewife?” Say that you a writer and say it with pride and conviction.’ <o:p></o:p> ‘I write’ I said a little more confidently, my husband’s wise words ringing in the background, backing up my confidence. <o:p></o:p> ‘<sp= an class=3DSpellE>Noooo’, the lady said, waiving off that informa= tion of a livelihood, as if it were an irksome fly. ‘I mean, what work do you do?’ The word ‘work’ was pronounced with power. I realized that even if I were awarded the Booker’s Prize, I would still be deprived of ‘pride’ and ‘confidence’, its accompanying trophies. And since forceful statements, when spoken with humility, are as effective = as a lullaby, I went back to my outmoded form of answer. ‘I am a housewife’ I said. However, this time I remembered to wipe out the ‘just’ from it. <o:p></o:p> ‘Oooh! Whad ellse do ya do?R= 17; she persisted, her Indian diction suddenly acquiring an American twang. WHAT EL= SE? As if writing and housewifing weren’t men= tally and physically strenuous enough! For a second I just looked at her- well, n= o actually, at that moment she sounded so hollow, I just looked through her. Then on se= cond thoughts I felt pity. It was not her fault. She was simply an ambitious workingwoman, living in progressive but aggressive times. For her, any job = that required innate skills and didn’t have a Degree, a Diploma or an authenticated official tag, was hardly impressive. <o:p></o:p> That any artiste is no= t considered a ‘worker’ is not a new concept. Dancers and singers are merely entertainers. An actor is synonymous with playacting. An artist is but a Painter. And a writer is noth= ing but a prying somebody with a pen for a crutch, treading on everybody else’s private turf. That each of them has social, moral or political responsibilities is thought of as ridiculous. That they are trying to expand the perception of the world, to make it appear richer and more nuanced, is again a preposterous idea. That sometimes what they create seems so dwarfed= by reality is contemplated as ludicrous. But to condemn any artiste’s weapon, dr= awn so laboriously from the sheath of their skills, as something inconsequentia= l- if this is not execution, what is? <o:p></o:p> Rega= rding the daily mundane chores of an ordinary housewife, I do not have to spell t= hem out. Every housewife knows it and every husband who has a homemaker for a w= ife pretends he doesn’t. Apart from toggling with her unending list of cooking, caring and socializing, a housewife has to also juggle with the ot= her more important assignments allotted to her in life- like safeguarding the interests of her children, maintaining moral ethics, preserving traditional values, upholding customary beliefs and living up to the standards of the essential woman. Not to mention her usual conflicts with emotions, unending battles with loneliness, various experiments with hobbies, eternal fights w= ith boredom, ceaseless dealings with patience and her ever- changing roles in l= ife. In short, an occupation that is slowly, surely and sadly starting to grow extinct. A housewife is also an archaic expression for a homemaker- one tha= t either makes or breaks a home. If this is not work, what is?<o:p></o:p> The year 2006 is= fast approaching, bringing along a new promise- the tenacity to achieve, to accomplish and to be bold. And in this year’s party, if any pair of conceited lips poses me with this simple question, ‘What do you do?’ I’ll probably ward them off with another equally disarming= but effective query. ‘What else is there to do?’ <o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <sp= an style=3D'font-family:"Trebuchet MS";color:red'>Nargis<= span style=3D'font-family:"Trebuchet MS";color:red'> Natara= jan. <o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <o:p></o:p> </div> </body> </html>

MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Location: file:///C:/B92C08EF/What_do_you_do.htm Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Content-Type: text/html; charset="us-ascii" “WHAT DO YOU DO</t= itle>  <style>  </style>  </head> <body lang=3DEN-US link=3D"#0066FF" vlink=3Dpurple style=3D'tab-interval:.5= in'> <div class=3DSection1> “WHAT DO YOU DO?”<o:p></o:p> <o:p>&nb= sp;</o:p> <o:p>&nb= sp;</o:p> At the New Year’s party last year, when our group was busy mak= ing resolutions to welcome 2005 with a new doggedness, an apparition in blue, dressed in almost blouseless sleeves, suddenly floated next to me. ‘What do you do?’ she asked me, sweetly. At first I was taken aback. If she was interested to know my private pledges, = this was grammatically a wrong question. Moreover, we weren’t so familiar = that on introduction she would enquire upon what I did for a living. One glance = at her sporty sari proclaimed that she was of a modern mindset. Therefore I presumed she was probably muddled up with the mode of welcome. Since the ‘Namaste’ days are almost extinct, I gathered it was perhaps ‘How do you do?’ she had in mind. <o:p>= </o:p> Spea= king of this western culture of a salutation, I must comment on its amusing overtone. Every time I am confronted with a ‘How do you do?’ I = am usually left speechless. Apparently, according to the rules of conversation= al etiquette, this form of a greeting has to be answered back, not with someth= ing like- ‘I’m fine, thank you!’ but with another ‘How = do you do?’ with undue stress on the particular word ‘do’ or ‘you’. Is it = really anybody’s business how I or you do? Anyway, since I am not in the hab= it of answering a question with a question, instead of breaking my own rules a= nd the rules of decorum, I just smile and turn my head away. Or safer still, I resort to our un-inquisitive customary way to greet the prying guest.<o:p><= /o:p> Coming back to the lady in b= lue, when she repeated her query I realized that the lady meant EGGJACKTLY what = she had said. She was genuinely interested in my occupation. ‘I writeR= 17;, I whispered, a little apprehensively. Again, let me take a small diversion.= My gentle but self-assured husband has advised me emphatically, to impart with this information to anybody who dares to question me about what exactly it = is I am. ‘You are an author now’, he says with an assertion I find so hard to establish. ‘So why do you always mutter- “I am just<= /i> a housewife?” Say that you a writer and say it with pride and conviction.’ <o:p></o:p> ‘I write’ I said a little more confidently, my husband’s wise words ringing in the background, backing up my confidence. <o:p></o:p> ‘<sp= an class=3DSpellE>Noooo’, the lady said, waiving off that informa= tion of a livelihood, as if it were an irksome fly. ‘I mean, what work do you do?’ The word ‘work’ was pronounced with power. I realized that even if I were awarded the Booker’s Prize, I would still be deprived of ‘pride’ and ‘confidence’, its accompanying trophies. And since forceful statements, when spoken with humility, are as effective = as a lullaby, I went back to my outmoded form of answer. ‘I am a housewife’ I said. However, this time I remembered to wipe out the ‘just’ from it. <o:p></o:p> ‘Oooh! Whad ellse do ya do?R= 17; she persisted, her Indian diction suddenly acquiring an American twang. WHAT EL= SE? As if writing and housewifing weren’t men= tally and physically strenuous enough! For a second I just looked at her- well, n= o actually, at that moment she sounded so hollow, I just looked through her. Then on se= cond thoughts I felt pity. It was not her fault. She was simply an ambitious workingwoman, living in progressive but aggressive times. For her, any job = that required innate skills and didn’t have a Degree, a Diploma or an authenticated official tag, was hardly impressive. <o:p></o:p> That any artiste is no= t considered a ‘worker’ is not a new concept. Dancers and singers are merely entertainers. An actor is synonymous with playacting. An artist is but a Painter. And a writer is noth= ing but a prying somebody with a pen for a crutch, treading on everybody else’s private turf. That each of them has social, moral or political responsibilities is thought of as ridiculous. That they are trying to expand the perception of the world, to make it appear richer and more nuanced, is again a preposterous idea. That sometimes what they create seems so dwarfed= by reality is contemplated as ludicrous. But to condemn any artiste’s weapon, dr= awn so laboriously from the sheath of their skills, as something inconsequentia= l- if this is not execution, what is? <o:p></o:p> Rega= rding the daily mundane chores of an ordinary housewife, I do not have to spell t= hem out. Every housewife knows it and every husband who has a homemaker for a w= ife pretends he doesn’t. Apart from toggling with her unending list of cooking, caring and socializing, a housewife has to also juggle with the ot= her more important assignments allotted to her in life- like safeguarding the interests of her children, maintaining moral ethics, preserving traditional values, upholding customary beliefs and living up to the standards of the essential woman. Not to mention her usual conflicts with emotions, unending battles with loneliness, various experiments with hobbies, eternal fights w= ith boredom, ceaseless dealings with patience and her ever- changing roles in l= ife. In short, an occupation that is slowly, surely and sadly starting to grow extinct. A housewife is also an archaic expression for a homemaker- one tha= t either makes or breaks a home. If this is not work, what is?<o:p></o:p> The year 2006 is= fast approaching, bringing along a new promise- the tenacity to achieve, to accomplish and to be bold. And in this year’s party, if any pair of conceited lips poses me with this simple question, ‘What do you do?’ I’ll probably ward them off with another equally disarming= but effective query. ‘What else is there to do?’ <o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <sp= an style=3D'font-family:"Trebuchet MS";color:red'>Nargis<= span style=3D'font-family:"Trebuchet MS";color:red'> Natara= jan. <o:p></o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p> <o:p></o:p> </div> </body> </html>