The laundry man told me in an almost apologetic tone that he would not bring the ironed clothes the next day as per his usual practice. Surprised for a moment, I asked him why. That’s when he mentioned that the laundry would be closed for Eid.

I felt happy for him. I know how hard these people work, with very few days off in the year. As he waited for my response, I smiled in reassurance and told him I was glad that he was getting a day off work and hoped he would enjoy the day.

A little later, I called the grocery store to ask for a home delivery and was surprised when no one answered the phone. After several tries, I realised it was closed. It was a strange experience because this is a rare occurrence. These small shops are usually open early in the morning and close only late at night. So no one can begrudge them the few times in a year when they take a well-deserved break.

That was when I realised how lucky some of us are to be assured of a proper weekend to relax and unwind.

In our newspaper, we often do stories of people who work behind the scenes to make our lives comfortable and provide us with the services we take for granted. When asked how they feel about working during a festive occasion, most say they are happy to serve others. Somehow, their words ring true, not said to impress, but a simple truth that they truly believe in and live by.

So, when there is a long weekend, we can look forward to shopping or going to a park or some entertainment venue, confident that we will have a good time. There are thousands working behind the scenes, day and night, to ensure our comfort and convenience.

Back home, it’s a completely different story. Since there are so many festivals celebrated, there are lots of holidays. Housewives dread a request from domestic helps to grant them leave. It would, however, be wise to agree because they will take the day or days off anyway, with or without permission. The worst part is never knowing how long that break will last.

Many of them travel to their village and, once they reach there, they invariably get caught up in family problems or sickness and a few days stretches to a week or ten days. There is no way of getting in touch with them as they don’t have phones at home, or so they would have us believe. So the agonising wait begins. As the two or three days become a week and then a fortnight, the anger builds.

Suddenly, just as hope fades thin, they turn up with a woebegone face. Feelings of relief war with indignation, but one decides to choose one’s words with care. However, the wind is taken out of your sails once you hear a gripping tale of sickness, imminent death and mounting debt. The tears and the face contorted by grief are enough to move even the most hardened soul. The housewife’s anger dissipates and she makes an effort to be gentle in her treatment of this tortured soul.

She comforts herself with the fact that at least the help has turned up and learns to count her blessings. A few days later, she is touched for a loan to pay off those accumulated debts. She obliges as she prides herself on being compassionate. In a rare moment of insight, she realises everyone needs a break from the drudgery of routine.

So, all is sweetness and light until the next festival comes around.