Yesterday, I was trying to change
the wi-fi setting on my laptop and all the technical jargon, the machine was
throwing at me was making me dizzy. Exhausted and afraid to err, I asked my
husband for help. While he lazily pulled the laptop from my hands, he had this
smug -superior look that men usually have while showing off their dexterity
with gadgets, to us girls. I was already in a snippy mood (after struggling
with the internet settings to no avail) and the smug expression didn’t help it
at all. I lashed out, “Why, you just make fun of me, you never tell me how this
works, it’s all so complicated. ….”. He was taken aback; but not enough to use
his lessons on diplomacy that he has received through the 10 year long
marriage. And he said, “I have told you how to do this so many times. You just
don’t remember!”.
Looking up from the computer,
eyes wide open in shock and horror at this unfounded, unsubstantiated charge, I
said, “When have you told this before? I’ve never even seen this window earlier
in my life.”
Still lazily working on the
problem and with little, if any attention to my dismay, he said “ Yes I have.
You’re just never interested.”
I was stunned- flabbergasted.
Being called inattentive and incapable of grasping how to trouble-shoot
internet problems was humiliating. But what was worse was the off handed,
causal manner in which the accusation was made. It left no room for
explanations, no opportunity for defense and no place to hide.
A deep stab of pain pierced my
heart. The pain of betrayal from
my lover! He didn’t want to empower me. He wanted me to Be empowered All by
myself. A single tear rolled down my
cheek. At first, it was a tear of anger. Anger at him for not understanding
that I don’t understand this gadget and all its moods. Anger that, as a lover
he is too slow (and casual) at coming to the rescue of his damsel in distress
from this ‘artificial intelligence’.
Then it was a tear of insult and
inadequacy. I thought, perhaps these problems with the Internet are too basic
for the 21st century mankind. Am I a decaying relic that is simply
obsolete? Then I thought of all the years when
I took care of my family, dedicated my time and energy to their growth. I’m not
a relic, I’m the Lifeline! And so finally it was a tear of vengeance! I wasn’t
going to let this slide! This was time for revenge. It was time when the doctor
tastes his own medicine. I didn’t say anything further. The remainder of day
passed uneventfully.
The next day started as a regular
day but for one thing. There was no coffee. My husband got around to asking for
a cup. I asked him to switch on the coffee maker and make two cups. I hadn’t
had my morning cup too. I guess he was surprised, but chose to say nothing.
Then he and coffee maker spent an incredibly long time together. After a lot of
turning the knobs, opening the lid, spilling the water, reading of fine print,
came two lukewarm cups of wishy-washy brown liquid. I took the cup from him
with an expression of disappointment. He said, “It hasn’t come out right. These
machines are so complicated”. I kept a straight face but inside I was beaming”.
The day moved at a hectic pace. That evening I was just winding up the routine
household chores when I said to him, “I’ve loaded the washing machine. Just put
it on the wash cycle before coming to bed. Oh, and remember to add the fabric
softener”. So I heard him in the laundry room, looking through the bottles of
bleach and washing liquid. Then I heard him click a few knobs and switch a few
buttons. But the machine did not start. You see, my washing machine is quite
extensively used and lately the door needs an extra nudge, a hard push, to lock
in and start the washing cycle. He didn’t know that. So he stood there
wondering what he has not done right. From the bedroom, I was visualizing his
confusion. Finally exasperated he came to announce that the machine is not
working and that I need to come and check. Without looking up from my book, in
fact sliding further down in my bed I said, “I’ve told you so many times how it
works. Why can’t you do such a simple thing for me. Leave it, I’ll do it later”.
I could sense his defeat first from the machine that wouldn’t budge, then from
the wife who would also not budge. He chose to say nothing.
The next day was a Sunday. It was
a bright and sunny day and we were all enjoying an easy morning. After
breakfast, as always I decided to go for my weekly grocery shopping. Lunch was
roast chicken with lots of fresh vegetables and home baked bread. I dressed the
chicken and put it in the oven. In the other room Sid was sitting on the couch
and reading the papers. I told him that I’m leaving for the market and would be
back in a couple of hours, that the lunch was in the oven and that he needed to
switch the oven on at 220degrees for 40 minutes on the convection setting after
45 minutes. And after it’s cooked for 40 minutes he needs to turn the chicken
and set the timer for another 20 minutes. Even before he could react to the
bomb I had just dropped on his lap, I turned and fled. After all, when you
throw a grenade at someone, you don’t stand around to see. (and in case you are
wondering, I’ve not learnt this from my military training. Instead this is a ‘Burn
Notice’ lesson handed down by Michael Weston).
On my way to the market I
imagined, with guilty relish, what he would do. This, I was looking forward to!
An hour later I received a call
from him. Obviously, he had been working at the oven for some time and failing.
When I picked up the call, a battary of questions and complaints came rushing
down. “Only the bottom rods are heating. It’s making some clanking sound, There
is steam in the oven. Do I need to be worried. Was the tempature in farenheit
or celcius…” He went on. I had mentally switched off. Then I said, “ Sid, I’ve
told this to you so many times. You just don’t listen. It’s not rocket
science. All you need to do is
switch it on. How hard can it be! I’ll look at it when I come home.” I’m sure
that the next couple of hours must have been full of struggle, frustration, and
panic. When I returned home, he said, “You could explain how your oven works” .
I chose not to respond and went to check the chicken. It was burnt from the top
and raw at the bottom. Lunch
really was looking like a dead bird. I smiled to my self. It was mission
accomplished. Then I turned to him. Before I could say anything, he spoke, “Rachna, I couldn’t make this lunch. But look, I’ve fixed your internet. And all the
passwords that you need are written here. I’ve fixed the permanent settings on
your comp. They are not going to change so you’re not going to have a problem
anymore. I could only smile at my loving husband.
And then there was the matter of
lunch. Of course, a girl always has a trick or two up her sleeve. I have bought
the best, juiciest suasages, the freshest croissants and lemon tarts on my way
home. It was soul food. The Sunday lunch was fulfilling as always and the war
had ended.
Just a note of caution! The
Internet connectivity problems in my life have gone. But not all computer
problems have disappeared. Now! Can someone please tell me how to post this
article on the internet…..
