📒 Real Accounts of a Tamil Homemaker: Aadi, Auto Bills & Everyday Math

✍️ By Subhasri Devaraj

In a modest home in Salem, every line in the household ledger tells a story—not in words, but in choices.

The morning begins with ₹100 spent on milk. Not optional—tea for the elders, coffee for the working husband, and a glass for the child before school. The same child needs snacks packed in his school bag—some days it’s an apple, other days biscuits or chips. No compromise. Nutrition and love both need funding.

The auto driver honks sharp at 7:45. ₹100 every day. Rain or heat, the fare doesn't change. That’s ₹600 before the week ends.

A school chart project comes home like a surprise guest. Another ₹120 spent on colors, glue, and sparkle paper. The child beams with pride—the mother recalculates her budget silently.

Last month’s indulgence—mutton curry on Sunday—cost ₹770. Eggs, regular staples, ₹80 for a tray. The stove repair bill came in midweek—₹450 to fix the induction coil. No fanfare. Just the quiet relief of boiling water again.

Now Aadi month begins—a season rich in ritual and devotion. The pooja list stretches like a temple corridor:

Manjal, kungumam, vellam, pacharisi
Ghee for sweet prasadham
Jasmine flowers by the kilogram
Blouse cloth for offering
Glass bangles and turmeric threads

Every festival has its own demand: Aadi Sevvai, Aadivelli, Aadi Amavasai, Aadi Krithigai, Aadi Perukku. Each day, an altar must be decorated, lamps lit, mantras whispered. God’s presence doesn’t come cheap, but it’s non-negotiable.

The homemaker isn't playing with numbers. She’s negotiating with fate.

This isn’t budgeting—it’s decision-making at ground level.

Does she skip the jasmine this Friday so she can afford a bottle of hair oil next week?

Can Sunday’s pooja sweets double as snacks for school on Monday?

The book she holds isn’t leather-bound—it’s creased, ink-smudged, and stitched with emotion. Yet it powers the rhythm of an entire household. The woman behind it remains invisible to many, but her choices hold the family upright like a pillar carved into temple stone.

Video:

🧠 Disclaimer:

✋ No AI Here:
This blog post was written 100% by me, Subhasri Devaraj, without the use of AI writing tools.
Every word is real, personal, and written from scratch — just like a proper conversation over filter coffee. ☕
No bots. No auto-generated fluff. Just me, talking to you

⚠️ No content here is copied or auto-published. I don't post anything I wouldn’t say to a friend.

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