I live alone in Delhi. No big deal, a lot of people do. So, don’t worry this is not another run-of-the mill piece where I am wallowing in the hardships of living alone. I actually quite enjoy myself. But this isn’t about my oh-so-perfect life either. Actually, it’s a part of that perfect life. It’s about one of the most enjoyable and unforgettable day of my life.
Yes, so I live alone and although I love being by myself, having my family around is more than pleasurable. So, on Friday after convincing my dad that he can survive alone, my mum came down to visit me, ignoring the killer looks and heart-burn of my grandma (she personifies Shashikala's character of that typical Hindi movie mother-in-law) and many hints from my dad about his plight (For the life of him he can’t cook and actually I don’t think he should try either because nothing will be left of the kitchen if he ever attempts that feat). So, on Friday my mother and I had a very enjoyable evening wherein we went to Lajpat Nagar market, gossiped about our relatives, had an ice-cream and a gola and bitched about my relatives some more.
Next day my sisters (I have two elder sisters) were going to visit my place. My mum got up at 6 in the morning (thanks to my dad, who simply does not allow her to sleep after 5 because he goes to yoga at that time and obviously my mum has to do everything right from getting his clothes to making him tea, because as I mentioned earlier he is completely lost without her and cannot manage to even comb his hair on his own), and was tossing and turning on the mattress (I am a bachelor, I don’t have a bed!). No, I did not wake up because I am a sound sleeper and the world can crumble around me with cannons going off and aliens riding down with really noisy spaceships and I still wont get up! My mum tried sleeping till 7, gave up the attempt at 7:10 and then went to take a bath. She washed all my clothes (most of them did not require any cleaning according to me but she cleaned them anyway, out of boredom or because she was disgusted by my effort’s of keeping them clean, I do not know). She was done by 8 and by then she was fruitlessly trying to wake me up. Then by 9 she was done with making the breakfast and cleaning the house (my mum is a neat freak and cannot stand a dirty house). Although I said that even cannons blasting cannot wake me up, my mother washing dishes can. The clanking of the plates and cups were enough to wake the dead. So, I was very unceremoniously woken up and had no choice but to try and pick my body up to the bathroom (It often happens with me that when I wake up, although my mind is in my bathroom brushing my teeth my body simply refuses to make this surreal situation real). So after fighting the resistance that my body was offering ,I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth and washed my face. I then came out and had my breakfast .
Till then we didn't know if my sisters were coming home or not. As they have husbands who will simply refuse to take the responsibility of the kids until and unless it is thrust upon them.
But somehow my sisters managed to convince their husbands that the kids wouldn’t really blow off the place and try and kill them. So being relieved of this temporary job of a jailer they were to come to my place. To freedom at last! But well, one cannot expect exemption from all their responsibilities and roles. And the role that they simply couldn’t shake off was that of a cook. They had to cook food for their family which is nothing short of an army (joint family you see) and can definitely give the appetite of an army a run for their money (or machine guns, have your pick).
As my sisters were supposed to cook for their family, I had to cook for them. No big deal you would say, but what if you have put all the masala and are almost ready to cook your Dal when you realize that the valve of your cooker is missing? It means your cooker isn’t working properly. Did we panic? No we didn’t. I cooked in it and left the rest to god. Apparently it turned out to be just fine. The utensil in which I was to make sabzi for us was too small to hold sabzi made for four people (I guess it never occurred to me and my parents while buying utensils that I might have guest some day at my house or that I will ever cook for them. My relatives really do not believe me when I say I can cook, including my parents).
I managed somehow and it was also quite ok and eatable (I am quite good at cooking actually. And I personally believe that self-praise is necessary at times).
So, with these minor glitches I finished cooking. However, it was 1:30 and my sisters were no where in view. So, I called up their place to find out if they have left or not (both my sisters are married in the same family).
Here I would like to mention they have two phone lines, one upstairs and one down and both are interconnected. So I called them up and guess what, everyone in the house decided to pick up the phone (the attention that you get form your family!). I first spoke to my sister’s mother-in-law but I could not do more than exchange a few pleasantries with her as my oldest niece (14 year old) snatched the phone from her hand, she apparently wanted to talk to me about something but could not because before she managed to take my name, her brother (8 year old) took the phone from her. After this it was a complete chaos! My younger sister’s kid’s (3 and 9 years respectively) picked up the phone from upstairs and all four were fighting on the phone, while in the same house! Yes that’s my wonderful family for you. And what was I doing the whole time? Trying to catch their attention and worry about my prepaid acc getting over. But alas! I failed to make my voice hear over their fighting and was completely denied my existence on the phone by them. Then my brother-in-law came on the phone, and wouldn’t you expect a grown man to sort this mess out? Well, with my family you cant. Instead of telling them all to shut up and keep the phone, he joined in the fighting and in fact started fuelling the brawl. As optimistic as I am, even I gathered that this is not getting me anywhere and I kept the phone without even bothering to say good-bye.
After that we had no option to wait for my sisters to turn up soon. You must be wondering why I didn’t simply call them up on their cells. They are completely technologically challenged and I did not know if they would have got their cell phones with them, which they don’t most of the time. Also, as everyone in my family is partially deaf and cannot hear their mobiles, even if it’s shouting on top of its voice (again and again) and craving for their attention, I knew it was pointless calling them.
It was almost 2:30 now and I was dying of hunger. Finally at 2:40 I decided to have my food as people who know me will tell you that I do not like to ignore natures call (yes of all kinds).
Luckily before I could attack my food with the knife of my hunger, my doorbell rang and my sisters were there. No, I did not get angry at them or greet them, but told them to join me later as I simply couldn’t wait anymore to eat (I could imagine the food begging me too). My sisters joined me before I could manage to get the first bite in (thanks to my super fast mum) and we had a very hearty and enjoyable lunch spiced up with lots of gossip, family and otherwise.
Then we decided to go to Chandini Chowk, as my mum and sis both wanted to buy saris and suits. Most of you must be aware that in India, once married very few ladies wear jeans and t-shirts as their husband’s family isn’t really comfortable with it. Same is the case is with my sisters. So, my younger sister decided to wear my jeans and t-shirt (my elder one didn’t as my jeans couldn’t fit her). Even my mum, who never wears anything but sari, was wearing a salwar kameez.
So, after this makeover was finished we went to catch the rickshaw. Riding on a road of jokes, laughter, light conversation with many bumps and a driver in a lot of hurry, who did not think of us more than human luggage and whose conscience did not screech at him when he drove too fast and nearly hit every vehicle on the road, we reached our destination.
We shopped for nearly two hours and had walked the length of the Bazaar. The crowd was unbelievable and there were enough people there to create a whole new state. The place itself was full of dilapidated shops, and here is where we see irony which can be only found in India, that these shops did a business of more than a crore every year. I imagined the place without the smell of the sweat and the voice of a person and shuddered involuntarily.
I was suffocating and not just by the crowd but from the way the shopkeepers where throwing the exorbitant prices of the most ordinary stuff at us. The fact that people where actually buying them (including my sister) now withstanding. You see I have recently started earning and have suddenly realized the importance money holds. However, the smiles of the would-be brides and their expectant faces along with a pout of a child and the stubborn argument of a girl to buy only the most expensive dress in the shop with her father, were enough to offset the otherwise glumness of the place.
We did our shopping and were ready to go back home. We didn’t find a rickshaw for nearly an hour. When we finally did, we went to 3C’s (a restaurant) in lajpat nagar to eat. My elder sister and I left my younger sis and mum to choose the dinner while we went to the loo to freshen ourselves. After looking at the prices of food items there, my mom decided that we better go to some other place. So, we took a bottle of water (paid more than the MRP, but didn’t really have any choice as we were all dying of thirst) and went to Haldiram’s. Although the prices were no less, my coupons (which I get from office) worked here (We Indian’s can spend 5000 through coupons but 500 in form of cash seems like a lot to us!)
By then my brother-in-law was begging my sisters to return as my niece’s and nephews had fought and blood was shed on both sides. My sisters were ignoring him and I was convincing him to make the kids have haffem (drug) and put them off to sleep.
Although this did not really convince him, he did let my sisters stay as it was already 8:30 by the time we finished with dinner and being the paranoid that he is, he didn’t want them to travel back home so late.
So, after doing a quick jig in Haldiram’s and entertaining people, we went back home. We all changed into my many ‘ghar ke kapade’ (night suits and stuff), we had a cup of tea while watching old songs on my cable TV and some more discussion about my unique and weird family.
Later that night we watched ‘Singh is King’, with special comments from everybody, making the movie 10 times funnier. Had tea at 12 in the night and went off to sleep while talking at 2 in the morning.
That day I did not dream because no dream could compete with the day I had just lived in real life.
Yes, so I live alone and although I love being by myself, having my family around is more than pleasurable. So, on Friday after convincing my dad that he can survive alone, my mum came down to visit me, ignoring the killer looks and heart-burn of my grandma (she personifies Shashikala's character of that typical Hindi movie mother-in-law) and many hints from my dad about his plight (For the life of him he can’t cook and actually I don’t think he should try either because nothing will be left of the kitchen if he ever attempts that feat). So, on Friday my mother and I had a very enjoyable evening wherein we went to Lajpat Nagar market, gossiped about our relatives, had an ice-cream and a gola and bitched about my relatives some more.
Next day my sisters (I have two elder sisters) were going to visit my place. My mum got up at 6 in the morning (thanks to my dad, who simply does not allow her to sleep after 5 because he goes to yoga at that time and obviously my mum has to do everything right from getting his clothes to making him tea, because as I mentioned earlier he is completely lost without her and cannot manage to even comb his hair on his own), and was tossing and turning on the mattress (I am a bachelor, I don’t have a bed!). No, I did not wake up because I am a sound sleeper and the world can crumble around me with cannons going off and aliens riding down with really noisy spaceships and I still wont get up! My mum tried sleeping till 7, gave up the attempt at 7:10 and then went to take a bath. She washed all my clothes (most of them did not require any cleaning according to me but she cleaned them anyway, out of boredom or because she was disgusted by my effort’s of keeping them clean, I do not know). She was done by 8 and by then she was fruitlessly trying to wake me up. Then by 9 she was done with making the breakfast and cleaning the house (my mum is a neat freak and cannot stand a dirty house). Although I said that even cannons blasting cannot wake me up, my mother washing dishes can. The clanking of the plates and cups were enough to wake the dead. So, I was very unceremoniously woken up and had no choice but to try and pick my body up to the bathroom (It often happens with me that when I wake up, although my mind is in my bathroom brushing my teeth my body simply refuses to make this surreal situation real). So after fighting the resistance that my body was offering ,I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth and washed my face. I then came out and had my breakfast .
Till then we didn't know if my sisters were coming home or not. As they have husbands who will simply refuse to take the responsibility of the kids until and unless it is thrust upon them.
But somehow my sisters managed to convince their husbands that the kids wouldn’t really blow off the place and try and kill them. So being relieved of this temporary job of a jailer they were to come to my place. To freedom at last! But well, one cannot expect exemption from all their responsibilities and roles. And the role that they simply couldn’t shake off was that of a cook. They had to cook food for their family which is nothing short of an army (joint family you see) and can definitely give the appetite of an army a run for their money (or machine guns, have your pick).
As my sisters were supposed to cook for their family, I had to cook for them. No big deal you would say, but what if you have put all the masala and are almost ready to cook your Dal when you realize that the valve of your cooker is missing? It means your cooker isn’t working properly. Did we panic? No we didn’t. I cooked in it and left the rest to god. Apparently it turned out to be just fine. The utensil in which I was to make sabzi for us was too small to hold sabzi made for four people (I guess it never occurred to me and my parents while buying utensils that I might have guest some day at my house or that I will ever cook for them. My relatives really do not believe me when I say I can cook, including my parents).
I managed somehow and it was also quite ok and eatable (I am quite good at cooking actually. And I personally believe that self-praise is necessary at times).
So, with these minor glitches I finished cooking. However, it was 1:30 and my sisters were no where in view. So, I called up their place to find out if they have left or not (both my sisters are married in the same family).
Here I would like to mention they have two phone lines, one upstairs and one down and both are interconnected. So I called them up and guess what, everyone in the house decided to pick up the phone (the attention that you get form your family!). I first spoke to my sister’s mother-in-law but I could not do more than exchange a few pleasantries with her as my oldest niece (14 year old) snatched the phone from her hand, she apparently wanted to talk to me about something but could not because before she managed to take my name, her brother (8 year old) took the phone from her. After this it was a complete chaos! My younger sister’s kid’s (3 and 9 years respectively) picked up the phone from upstairs and all four were fighting on the phone, while in the same house! Yes that’s my wonderful family for you. And what was I doing the whole time? Trying to catch their attention and worry about my prepaid acc getting over. But alas! I failed to make my voice hear over their fighting and was completely denied my existence on the phone by them. Then my brother-in-law came on the phone, and wouldn’t you expect a grown man to sort this mess out? Well, with my family you cant. Instead of telling them all to shut up and keep the phone, he joined in the fighting and in fact started fuelling the brawl. As optimistic as I am, even I gathered that this is not getting me anywhere and I kept the phone without even bothering to say good-bye.
After that we had no option to wait for my sisters to turn up soon. You must be wondering why I didn’t simply call them up on their cells. They are completely technologically challenged and I did not know if they would have got their cell phones with them, which they don’t most of the time. Also, as everyone in my family is partially deaf and cannot hear their mobiles, even if it’s shouting on top of its voice (again and again) and craving for their attention, I knew it was pointless calling them.
It was almost 2:30 now and I was dying of hunger. Finally at 2:40 I decided to have my food as people who know me will tell you that I do not like to ignore natures call (yes of all kinds).
Luckily before I could attack my food with the knife of my hunger, my doorbell rang and my sisters were there. No, I did not get angry at them or greet them, but told them to join me later as I simply couldn’t wait anymore to eat (I could imagine the food begging me too). My sisters joined me before I could manage to get the first bite in (thanks to my super fast mum) and we had a very hearty and enjoyable lunch spiced up with lots of gossip, family and otherwise.
Then we decided to go to Chandini Chowk, as my mum and sis both wanted to buy saris and suits. Most of you must be aware that in India, once married very few ladies wear jeans and t-shirts as their husband’s family isn’t really comfortable with it. Same is the case is with my sisters. So, my younger sister decided to wear my jeans and t-shirt (my elder one didn’t as my jeans couldn’t fit her). Even my mum, who never wears anything but sari, was wearing a salwar kameez.
So, after this makeover was finished we went to catch the rickshaw. Riding on a road of jokes, laughter, light conversation with many bumps and a driver in a lot of hurry, who did not think of us more than human luggage and whose conscience did not screech at him when he drove too fast and nearly hit every vehicle on the road, we reached our destination.
We shopped for nearly two hours and had walked the length of the Bazaar. The crowd was unbelievable and there were enough people there to create a whole new state. The place itself was full of dilapidated shops, and here is where we see irony which can be only found in India, that these shops did a business of more than a crore every year. I imagined the place without the smell of the sweat and the voice of a person and shuddered involuntarily.
I was suffocating and not just by the crowd but from the way the shopkeepers where throwing the exorbitant prices of the most ordinary stuff at us. The fact that people where actually buying them (including my sister) now withstanding. You see I have recently started earning and have suddenly realized the importance money holds. However, the smiles of the would-be brides and their expectant faces along with a pout of a child and the stubborn argument of a girl to buy only the most expensive dress in the shop with her father, were enough to offset the otherwise glumness of the place.
We did our shopping and were ready to go back home. We didn’t find a rickshaw for nearly an hour. When we finally did, we went to 3C’s (a restaurant) in lajpat nagar to eat. My elder sister and I left my younger sis and mum to choose the dinner while we went to the loo to freshen ourselves. After looking at the prices of food items there, my mom decided that we better go to some other place. So, we took a bottle of water (paid more than the MRP, but didn’t really have any choice as we were all dying of thirst) and went to Haldiram’s. Although the prices were no less, my coupons (which I get from office) worked here (We Indian’s can spend 5000 through coupons but 500 in form of cash seems like a lot to us!)
By then my brother-in-law was begging my sisters to return as my niece’s and nephews had fought and blood was shed on both sides. My sisters were ignoring him and I was convincing him to make the kids have haffem (drug) and put them off to sleep.
Although this did not really convince him, he did let my sisters stay as it was already 8:30 by the time we finished with dinner and being the paranoid that he is, he didn’t want them to travel back home so late.
So, after doing a quick jig in Haldiram’s and entertaining people, we went back home. We all changed into my many ‘ghar ke kapade’ (night suits and stuff), we had a cup of tea while watching old songs on my cable TV and some more discussion about my unique and weird family.
Later that night we watched ‘Singh is King’, with special comments from everybody, making the movie 10 times funnier. Had tea at 12 in the night and went off to sleep while talking at 2 in the morning.
That day I did not dream because no dream could compete with the day I had just lived in real life.
