Struggles of my mundane life
I know it seems a bit weird for a first time writer to choose such a topic to start the journey of blogging but nevertheless I am here with this.
This idea that crept in my mind came when I was washing today's dinner utensils.
But to understand my struggles I should first tell you little bit about myself. I am an independent, working muslim woman, recently got married to an amazing guy with an equally amazing family, a vegetarian with a very slight shift towards non-veg(read: fried chicken). Let me tell you this that being the only vegetarian in a Muslim family is such a challenging way of living. So this post is about just that. And more..
I was never forced to eat non-veg or to eat just veg. This is how it is since the beginning of my existence.
It's just that I couldn't stand the sight of raw meat, touching it is out of bounds obviously. I can sit and eat with the non vegetarians (read:my family), I can eat the gravy also (I can hear somebody shouting somewhere pseudo vegetarian) but I cant touch the cooked meat with my roti also.
My husband once tried to test my limits and gave me a granule of meat but seeing my condition ( I was on a verge of puking my inards out and eyes brimming with tears) afterwards he swore never to do that again. This was like 3 years back when my husband was my boyfriend.
So today I tried to test myself while washing utensils.
My MIL cooked goat's brain(bheja) for everyone, I on the other hand got yummy bhindi ki sabzi( ladyfinger for those who don't know). While eating my FIL complemented his wife's cooking skill saying today bheja is like omelette, very tasty.
(I am in love with omelette , just so u know)
Hearing this comment broke my heart. I was in tears as my beloved omelette was being compared with something I consider untouchable. But I controlled myself and continued eating bhindi but the process of eating got little slow as I was feeling sick inside. Dinner got over after an eternity. Then came my turn to wash utensils. I was about to ask my MIL to relieve me today from this as I cant wash the dish with bheja. But then my brain overworked and tried to dare me to go and wash. Surprisingly I agreed also. But when the time came to wash the dreaded dish my hands and my eyes gave up and I started crying and dropped the dish. I couldn't get it together for like 10 minutes. Then for the fear of getting mocked by my family for being afraid from a dish I picked up myself again but this time around I used my brains and one dreadly war tactic. I filled the dish with lemon scented soap for five minutes. Everything got wiped off by itself. Problem solved. I felt so proud of myself that I decided to dedicate my first ever post to this.
PS. My husband is yet to know about this.