About IMILs, IBs and IJs.

With all due respect, I have a bone to pick with our creator. I do have a challenging and reasonable set of questions composed (or so I have convinced myself), ready to spring it on Him at Pearly Gates. My latest source of irritation and anxiety (I say latest because there have been several in the past, each consuming all my emotional energy at that point of time) is the overly glorified concept of being an Indian Bahu (IB for short).

Shy, demure, blushing easily, eyes cast down stealing loving, admiring glances at her soul mate, her master, her purpose for existence - her husband, excelling in culinary skills like all other such IBs, the epitome of sacrifice, docility and gentleness, a daughter to her in-laws, adept at keeping the house (or home - she is supposed to bring about that transformation, from house to home!) clean and beautiful...and several other such far-fetched fantasies.

I possess none of these traits (ah, I see that you being the perceptive reader that you are have concluded as much based on my past posts). I can cook edible and recognizable food items (if I am in the mental state to do so), I can keep the house as clean as it will be with a once-in-a-month quick sweep of the vacuum cleaner and with occasional (I prefer to be vague here than be embarrassed) dusting sessions, I am as much a daughter to my in-laws as my husband will be a son to my parents (ah, let's see 'em sneak out of this one - 'em obviously referring to the enviable IJs - Indian Jamais) and demure, shy, docile??? OK, we know we are talking about my anti-thesis.

Now, if I think of the plight of IMIL (Indian Mother-in-law), I am not too thrilled about her prospects either, I mean let's assume I am your typical IMIL, just for the sake of argument, I have spent a lifetime bringing up this worthless son of mine and here comes a pretty little thing and she has my son wrapped around her little finger (Now, why am I sounding more and more like one of those mega serials maamis :( ?)

A funny conversation took place this morning between a would-be IMIL and an IB.

IMIL : How are you?
IB : Good, good, good (too much gushing), how are you? (in a more restrained tone)
IMIL : Good

and after the initial customary greetings,

IMIL : So, can you make rotis?
IB : ?!!! I like paav bhajis aunty, I will have them if you will cook for me, IJ says you make awesome paav bhajis.
IMIL :(sportively laughs - whew!) Sure, I will make whatever you want! But I'll teach you how to make roti.
IB : Sure, we will also teach IJ! (Now I know she thinks am the worst IB there ever is :((()

So, in conclusion (yes, there is a point to all this drivel), why has such a grave injustice been done to the IMILs and IBs of the world (err...of India)? Why can't I be a happy, worry-free IJ :( ?

Question number n has been added to the pearly gates list of yours truly.

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