The grimy crockery clattering in the sink as they stumbled down caused me more distress than her words. She was an unexpected visitor. Neither was I prepared to serve my guest a hearty meal on time, nor was my home organised enough to host one. But there she was, sitting on my sofa, rocking her legs anxiously and judging me with her side eye. My Bua was back from the US, and she decided to bless us with a surprise visit along with her husband. The poor thing was shifting uncomfortably in his chair as she bombarded me with questions one after another.

“But why did you have to quit your job for the sake of your family? Was it really necessary? In the US, no spouse can stop you from working. You can even file a case if they do so. India, I say.” She sulked, shaking her head aggressively in dismissal. She looked at me as if one would when they spotted a cockroach crushed under one’s feet. I sighed and prepared myself for her next question.

The tea sizzled as I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could turn back to look at it, it boiled down and stained my freshly wiped glass-top stove. I ran to the kitchen, switched it off, and filtered the tea into three cups. I carried it gracefully like any other humble housewife and served my Bua and her husband with my special masala tea. The glare she threw as she picked her cup up stung me momentarily, but I was all fine soon after.

“But Bua. I had to. You know how it is to manage a family when both of us work. It was a mess, really. I had to do this for us. But I wasn’t forced to do so. In fact, I was the one who convinced my in-laws and parents before taking this decision.” I said, sipping my tea, which burned as it tracked down the insides of my throat.

“Oh, wow. This tastes delicious. No wonder you chose to carry on as a homemaker.” My Bua’s husband said. Though it was unwarranted, he sounded genuine.

“But how do you manage everything on your own? Doesn’t it get too hectic?” Bua asked.

“No, Bua, actually, we both share our chores. I only do a bit extra to support Ilan at work.”

“Hmmm. Modern times and modern family. I guess I will never understand. But how did Indira agree to this?” Bua didn’t know it was actually easy to convince my mother than Ilan. Ilan did not agree to it at all. But we had to do it for a better future. I had to almost stage a fasting protest to make Ilan accept my decision. But Bua will never understand. She believes in the practices of the Western world, after all.

When Ilan and I moved after getting married, we had already discussed our job situation. I was the one who suggested that if we were ever to find it challenging to run the house with both of us working, I would be the one to quit because that sounded reasonable. And even if I had asked Ilan to quit, wouldn’t the world have judged me enough of being a selfish partner? And then came the time when it had to be put into action. And I happily quit even when my colleagues started bitching about me and Ilan. Honestly, they didn’t know Ilan at all, and it didn’t bother me much.

Ever since, I have been spending happy times at home cleaning up our mess, keeping the kitchen neat, stacking our wardrobe with washed and scented clothes, and feeding Ilan on time.

“Bua, you both rest while I make something for you. It’s time for Ilan’s return from work, too. We shall all enjoy a good South Indian meal today.” I said, breaking the boring chai biscuit conversation we were forcing on each other.

“No, no. Please don’t trouble yourself. We will be leaving soon.”

“But Bua. How can I send you off without making you eat lunch here? Ma would never approve of it. And also, don’t you want to meet Ilan? You probably last met us as a couple in our marriage.”

“That I agree. But I am angry Ilan pushed you to do this. I am not so happy about your decision. It might just reflect in the way I behave with Ilan. It’s better we don’t meet right now. Maybe some other day?” She asked, and I was really relieved. Even though I couldn’t make Bua taste my famous brinjal gosthu, I was happy. Ilan loves it with rice and raw mango pachadi.

I waved Bua and her husband off shortly after. I rushed to the kitchen and heaved at the work left to be done. I quickly changed to tracks and a T-shirt and started cutting the vegetables for lunch. There was a knock already, and I was sweating. “Who is it this time? For god’s sake, let me make lunch.” I mumbled as I approached the door. Surprisingly, Ilan was back soon and appeared beaten. I did not inquire much but smiled and patted Ilan’s head gently.

“Here, I got us lunch today. You don’t have to cook.” Ilan held out a parcel that smelled of spices and curry, and my face fell. I had already made my mind up for the gosthu and pachadi, and now I had to settle for something lesser. But I accepted it anyway and proceeded to the kitchen.

“But why did you? I have already started cooking. It’s our favourite lunch today.”

“Are you sure you don’t want this? Because it’s your favourite biryani. And we shall have a feast today.” Ilan was quick to respond, and I was surprised.

“Your Bua called. A couple of minutes ago. She isn’t happy you quit your job. She thinks I made you do it.” I knew it. I could feel something wrong the very moment I opened the door for Ilan.

“So, you think I blame you too? And this is how you want to make up for it?” I asked.

“No, that’s not it. I felt terrible when she said I was wasting a talent by making you quit your work. She isn’t convinced that it was a mutual decision. And by the end, even I felt bad. What if I was being selfish? What if I am?”

“No, you are not. Don’t you think the world would have blamed me instead of you if our roles were reversed? All they need is a reason to spew hate.”

“But don’t you feel lonely? I work long hours, and you keep caring for me all the time. How about we hire someone to care for the house, and we both return to work?”

“Ilan, we are over this already. What makes you think I am not happy? I am so content with what I am doing. We decided your job is financially more stable; hence, you will continue working while I care for you. And we aren’t well off yet to pay people for these jobs.”

“Ummm… still. What would the world say?”

“I don’t care. And if you think the world will be silent otherwise, you are fooling yourself.”

We both worked together and cleaned up that day, feasted on our lunch and rested on the sofa beside each other. This was happiness to me. What else did I need? I have a roof above my head, good food, ample time to read and write, some me-time to do whatever I want, and a loving partner who works hard for the family. If this isn’t happiness, I don’t know what is. It would have been otherwise if I hadn’t chosen it myself.

“Ilan, how about a long drive to the beach?” I asked.

“Ahm, it’s so sunny. Why would you pick the beach?” Ilan sulked.

“Does that mean you won’t take me?”

“Ah, come on. I can’t drive today, for God’s sake. Be the man of the house and do it yourself today.” She laughed.

“That’s right. I am the man of the house. And I am driving you to the beach today.” I jumped, and she gently planted a kiss on my cheeks. That was happiness to me.