As I peered out the tall glass windows of my office building watching the slushy, icy mix come down, I was glad I was inside looking out unlike Saathi who was out there scraping ice off the windshield and side mirrors. It was another five minutes before he pulled up by the door to pick me up like he does when it rains or snows. I was silent on my ride home and well into our established evening routine. Today morning yet again, he dropped me off right by the door so I would not have to trudge through the slush with my heavy backpack.
As I climbed the stairs, I could not but help wondering if I can ever thank Saathi enough for all he does. Is making food payment enough? I am not sure. I am not even sure if I were in Saathi’s shoes I would do all that he does for me. I cry out loud about equality in everything. In decision making. In sharing household chores. Yet, I stand mute when he asks me to be in the warmth inside while he braves the cold. I watch him button up his coat and step outside to shovel snow without thinking of doing the same. I am happy being the passenger whenever possible. Yet, it is very rare to hear him complain about things like this. While I con myself that we share an equal relationship, I realize how unfair life is. To him.