Domestic Diplomacy

Every day, we face multiple situations that put us in a dilemma. We weigh options, figure things out, and try to make the best possible decision. But sometimes life throws uniquely complicated situations at us, the kind that come layered with inherent humor.

Imamul is the name of our maid, who has been with us for almost five years now. In her early days, she was incredibly hardworking and meticulous. But over time, the city-life bug caught up with her. She began taking on more work than she could realistically handle, started ignoring her health and personal hygiene, and gradually stopped caring for herself altogether.

It was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened.

She began rushing through our work, and the high standards that had initially impressed us slowly started slipping. Off late, things became so inconsistent that we finally had to complain though nervously, fearing it might damage the bond we had built over the years.

She treated my wife almost like her own daughter. She would share personal stories, bring fruits and delicacies she prepared at home, and even take initiative if something around the house needed fixing. I hear she shared a similar bond with another lady in the housing complex as well.

We too had helped her many times with funds, online shopping, even sending loan instalments back to her village. All in all, it had become a happy, extended-family sort of arrangement.

But she simply wouldn’t stop taking on additional work elsewhere, and gradually we slipped down her priority list.

That upset me at times, and I often suggested to my wife that we hire someone else. But the emotional bond between the two women remained unbreakable.

Adding to the chaos were her annual trips back to her native place. She would officially leave for a month but end up staying away for almost four. Then, upon returning, she would somehow make us fire the substitute maid with the argument that “this is her house and her job.”

With the elections in Bengal, she again went home to cast her vote and, following the usual pattern, has still not returned. It has already been over a month. Occasionally she calls, vaguely mentioning that she might r

eturn “next month,” but never with any real clarity.

Meanwhile, the temporary maid we hired in her place also travelled to cast her vote. The difference was that she returned within a week.

She and her daughter-in-law, Ayesha, are a fabulous team thoroughly professional in both attitude and delivery.

Ayesha handles the dishes and house cleaning with remarkable precision and organization. She does her work so well that I often feel that, with proper training, she could easily fit into the housekeeping department of a decent hotel.

Her mother-in-law cooks for us, and honestly, we thought Imamul was the best cook we had found till date someone capable of satisfying a Bengali palate far away from home in another city. But this lady comes very close to perfection herself.

Both ladies are punctual, professional, and dependable areas where Imamul had begun showing visible signs of deterioration.

However, even after they returned, we could not immediately rehire them because we had committed to keeping their replacement for at least a month.

Now this current character seems straight out of a scamster’s handbook. Lying appears to be second nature to her. Despite charging a fairly expensive package, she only cooks and washes dishes.

And if only she were even remotely good at those.

The food she prepares resembles vegetables that have merely been bullied into boiling water before being served half-crunchy. Since she is also a strict vegetarian, I must carefully remove eggshells and any pans used for cooking non-vegetarian food before she arrives.

We respect her religious beliefs completely, but we had hoped she would at least compensate with competence.

What truly deserves special mention, however, is her creativity with excuses.

If she arrives late or skips work without informing us, there is inevitably a story attached. Her personal favorite is that the watchman was not at his desk and we supposedly failed to hear her calling from the building gate.

We live on the second floor.

We hear everything.

Sometimes even the security guards debating politics downstairs.

But all of this merely serves as the premise of the actual dilemma.

The current maid’s term expires in a few days. My wife is still keen on taking Imamul back because, despite everything, there remains a certain motherly warmth about her and the years of emotional bonding continue to hold ground.

I, on the other hand, am inclined to continue with Ayesha and her mother-in-law for a while longer, even after Imamul returns.

Perhaps later we could reconsider bringing her back but conditionally. Maybe with the understanding that affection alone cannot compensate for neglecting the work she is being paid to do.

At home or in professional life, we constantly encounter similar moments of indecision. But prolonged indecision is unproductive. It slows things down, spreads confusion, and eventually affects efficiency.

In my view, one has to step in, filter through the options quickly, retain what contributes to the objective, and make a decision.