Miscellaneous things

We moved recently. Bought a house and all that. It is a swanky two bedroom flat replete with state-of-the-art facilities like floors, walls, and windows. There are a few doors here and there. There is even a kitchen and a balcony, and best of all—not one, but two bathrooms! No more walking to a neighbour’s lawn every morning with a jug of water and a bar of soap. I’m kidding of course. Where in Hyderabad can you find a neighbour with a lawn? I use the public parks.

My wife has spent the last few weeks trying to turn this place into, for lack of a less-clichéd word, a ‘home’. She has shopped in places far and near, rich and poor, and robbed every salesman and saleswoman of patience and desire to live. Thanks to her efforts, and the best credit that money can buy, in addition to all the fancy accoutrements mentioned above, we now also have a shoe rack, a small sofa, and a bookshelf. The next step, I think, is to find a tailor and have uniforms stitched for our cook and maid.

So what does it feel like to be a homeowner you ask? It is a strange feeling. Some days I feel an urge to stand in the balcony wearing a dressing gown and smoking a pipe. Other days I feel like buying a pack of attack dogs. And yet other days, when the home loan EMI is due, I feel like curling into a fetal pose in a corner of my massive 12 ft X 10 ft bedroom and crying myself to sleep.

The person least affected by this change is Sia. By the way, I hate to tell you this, but she has turned over to the dark side and become a Sith lord. All that sweetness and shy reserve that she displayed when she was an infant has been replaced by a volatile temper. She stomps about as if her father owns the place. She throws curry, cutlery, and ceramic when she is bored. And then starts on items whose names start with D. She terrorizes her mother. I live in constant fear of her. One day I sat her down, offered her a cup of green tea, and gently explained to her that she had to change her ways. In response, she poured the hot tea into my lap, smashed the TV remote into my knee, and when that didn’t seem to hurt enough, she grabbed hold of a fork that was lying on the table and stabbed me in the hand.

I am joking again. Sia is a darling. She has mastered all the vowels and is now subduing the consonants. Her favourite vowel is ‘U’. Not U as in Ukulele but U as in ‘uno, dos, tres’. She uses it to refer to anything—furniture, toys that she wants, places that she wants me to carry her to, etc. The vowel is generally accompanied by a pointing finger. Speaking of fingers, her favourite advertisement is that annoying Idea commercial—the one with the ‘Ullu mat banao’ tagline. Whenever the ad comes on, she rushes to the TV screen, mimics the protagonist’s wagging finger, and looks at me meaningfully.

We have taught her a number of tricks—she can high-five, shake hands, and even throw you a flying kiss. All fine qualities that I think will stand her in good stead for a future career in the corporate world, although, I hear that flying kisses are being discouraged in offices nowadays. A pity. I used to get a lot of work done that way.

That’s all the updates I have for now. I’m not sure how to end this post so I am going to finish with a limerick I found online:

On the chest of a barmaid at Yale,

were tattooed the prices of ale,

and on her behind,

for the sake of the blind,

was the same information in Braille.