Sound, light, action - that is what comes to mind when you think of this relationship. I bet you’ve understood which one I’m talking about – that most volatile, charged with ten thousand watts of super electricity relationship – that’s it – it’s the Mother-in-Law and Daughter-in-Law interaction. If ever there has been a relationship, which was accompanied by such fireworks, well this is it. You don’t need to watch ‘Saas-Bahu’ soaps on television to catch on. Frankly, I can never figure out why this has to be so. I mean – here are two females constantly on the warpath, but for what?! What territory are they fighting about? Followers of Sigmund Freud will of course, assume their most serious expression and launch into a lengthy spiel about Electra complexes and such like, but ultimately it boils down to the basic fact that both are actually fighting for control over that one miserable male in the center. Momma dear just can’t let go that umbilical cord of hers and every now and then gives it a tug, puppeteer-like, to make her darling son do her bidding. Wifey’s hackles rise up and she tightens that nuptial knot just a wee bit tighter and reels in her catch with greater determination.  Imagine the plight of that guy in the middle? Pulled apart constantly in a tug-of-war! He has to keep Momma happy. After all, she’s the one who brought him into this world, kept awake nights, cleaned up his sweet drooling mouth and backside and blah, blah, blah….Wifey doesn’t even bother to spell out what she does for him – her ultimatum is short and crystal clear, “Back to heel, bacchu, or it’s back to  maike (mother’s home)  for me.” So you have this poor guy running back and forth, trying to keep both sides happy, with his tongue hanging out in desperation. I’ve never really understood how a woman can have such totally divergent attitudes and be blissfully aware of it. Like our neighbour, Mrs Gupta. Back from visiting her daughter, she couldn’t stop gushing about what a gem of a son-in-law she had, “Arrey ji, he dotes on my Reena. If she can’t get up early in the morning, he makes the tea and even brings it for her in bed. And as for breakfast, he has it either in his office or makes some toast and coffee. He eats whatever she can manage to cook, and at least twice every week, he takes her out for dinner. How nice, na?” Then in the same breath she continues, “I wish my Raju could have been as lucky. How much that darling boy has to slog. Every morning he has to make the tea. And Madamji can’t even be bothered to get up to give him some breakfast. He either makes some toast for himself or eats in the office. And dinner? Either she cooks up some ugh stuff or else they eat out. How much money he wastes like that, ji?” When I was young and newly married, I attended a lot of kitty parties featuring friends of similar marital status. The main topic of conversation? Well, it mostly went “My MiL is such a b****, d’you know what she said the other day…” A quarter decade down the line I still attend kitty parties, my pals are of similar age and the main topic? “My DiL is such a b****, d’you know what she said the other day….” Just a minor readjustment of focus but otherwise, a stuck record. Some MiLs of course go to such extremes as to completely do away with the object of hate and convert her into a burning example. Firebrand sisters of such unfortunate DiLs fight back in their own way. It’s sort of, like a rehashed version of Rudyard Kipling – “For MiL is MiL , and DiL Is DiL , and never the twain shall meet.” For heavens’ sake why can’t both raise the white flag and follow a policy of ‘Women of the world unite’. Not that there aren’t such examples. There are, and not always in upper/educated classes or such. There is this Parvati amma who does the dishes for me. When her DiL expressed a desire to join adult literacy classes and the entire family taunted her for stepping beyond her aukat (limits), it was amma who offered to shoulder all the chores of DiL, thereby freeing her for educational achievements. Of course, DiL reciprocates and will gladly give do anything for her dear MiL. Then we have so many MiLs holding the fort and the baby in nappies while their smart, educated DiLs trot out to their jobs. No disco-style discordant light and cacophony here, just a warm friendly glow suffusing the home. What would you need for it? Maybe a cupful of love, a tablespoon of patience, a teaspoon of humour and a pinch of attitude. Just mix well and sprinkle around the home.