Insights into Married Life from the Middle Seat

On my recent flight to Mumbai I was given a middle seat as all the window and aisle seats were occupied.  Apparently most couples ask for a window and aisle seats with the hope that the middle seat will be left unoccupied and hence will give them space for a comfortable journey.

Disappointment was evident on the lady’s face seated on the aisle seat as I squeezed into the middle seat.  No sooner had I sat when she said loudly into my ear :”I hope in future you will do exactly as I tell you – that will save you from a lot of grief”.  Her tone indicated that she expected me to meekly agree – and I looked at her nervously wondering what she will order me to do. 

But to my relief she was looking beyond me to the chap sitting in the window seat.  He was a person with a goatee beard and with an apologetic air about him.  He was vigorously nodding his head at his wife’s words .

He caught me looking at him and he smiled and he said :”We are just returning from a holiday.  What about you?  Where are you coming from”?  The chap was trying to strike up a friendly conversation with me. 

Before I could open my mouth to reply, his wife’s voice boomed into my ear.  She said : “You are so lacking in self-confidence.  You should believe in yourself, man – otherwise how will you take such important decisions?”

I turned my head to look at the chap and he was again nodding his head and saying : “Yes yes – I agree I need to pull myself together”.

He then turned to me and said “I don’t want you to get inconvenienced by the conversation I and my wife are having.  So if you want I can swap seats with you and you can take my window seat”.  I readily agreed and we traded places.

Throughout the flight I overheard a serious mentoring and counselling session taking place.  The husband made several attempts to turn his head in my direction and strike up a conversation with me – but all such attempts were nipped in the bud by his wife.

When the flight landed I saw the man scurrying away hurriedly – in order to maintain an out-of-earshot gap between him and his wife.  His wife made no attempt to catch up with him – she followed him at a leisurely pace confident in her knowledge that he cannot run away too far.

I saw them next at the baggage conveyer belt.  The wife had caught up with him, and was now advising him on what kinds of t-shirts suit him better.

Their luggage came first and they made for the exit – this time both of them together.  He saw me looking at him and when he passed me he gave a sly wink.  There was not even a minor trace of irritation on his face.

And then the truth hit me.

To the numerous husbands who continue to do exactly what they want to do despite continuous attempts at reforming them – and to the wives who do not give up hope that their husbands will one day listen and follow their suggestions  – here’s wishing you a grand and happy New Year!

Activist Artistes

Art - whether it is music, writing or other performing arts - requires long hours of practice, focus and dedication.  This is the reason why many artistes despite having strong views on anything do not resort to public activism - it is an energy and time killer, and distracts one from reaching higher levels in their chosen art. 

Artistes who have taken to activism (and I can immediately think of a famous writer, and an actress) have done so when they had already plateaued in their art. Maybe it is their way of staying in their limelight.  But the fact is they never again returned to their peak in their chosen art once they got distracted into activism.

One loves not just the art- but also the artiste behind the art.  There is a certain purity, dignity and sanctity expected from performing arts and performing artistes.  I certainly respect the right of artistes to be public activists and say whatever they want - it is their right.  But I will avoid attending a music concert if there is even a remote doubt in my mind whether the performance on stage could be inadvertently tainted by the shadow of activism. 

The girl in Central Park

The morning air was crisp and the sun was struggling to show itself through the morning mist when I and my colleague reached the mid point of Central Park in New York.  A few birds were circling the large crystal clear lake - and the morning dew shimmered on the huge meadow next to the lake.

A little girl - perhaps 6 or 7 years old - stood on the winding path in the far distance, waiting for us to approach.  She was dressed in a pretty frock with matching shoes.  From time to time she will cast a hesitant glance at a young couple casually stretched out on the meadow in the distance.  From the encouraging nods they were giving her, they should be her parents.

As we reached her I noticed she had very beautiful blue eyes, and she held a small placard which said "Free Hugs".

She looked at me with her beautiful blue eyes and waited expectantly for me to respond.

I hesitated.  Should I hug her or not?  

I said "good morning little one" in a cheerful voice, and then walked past without hugging her. 

She looked confused as she looked at me walk away - and then she looked at her parents in embarrassment.......

I heard myself remarking to my colleague "It is safer nowadays to be absolutely correct - no hugging - even if they are children".  I was feeling sorry for the small girl, and was trying to justify my rude behaviour.

I turned and looked back.  The little girl had shrugged off her disappointment and was now waiting expectantly on the pathway for the next person to walk by.  Hopefully the next person will be braver and more spontaneous, and will not disappoint.

Sleepless In Prithvi

Ok, let me firstly make it clear that it is me – his wife – writing this post.  Usually it is he who writes those useless posts in which I am made the butt of his ridiculous jokes.

But today it is my – his wife’s – turn to write and tell you about an incident that happened yesterday that he will not write about because it will be embarrassing for him.  So let me do it.

Yesterday we went to Prithvi to listen to the Symphony Orchestra of India (SOI) performing Western Classical music.  My husband booked tickets for both of us so that he could - in his usual style - immodestly boast on facebook about how "cultured" he is.  That is an empty boast of course – and I doubt whether he understands even Indian Classical music despite the photos of music events he keeps posting on fb.

Ok, so here we were at Prithvi – and then my hubby drops a shocker.

He :   "I am suffering from a terrible jet lag after my recent visit abroad – and I think I may fall asleep during the show."

I : "So why did you decide to come today?  You could have slept at home peacefully."

To which he muttered incoherently something about Western classical music curing his jet lag and giving him a good sleep.

Within 5 minutes of the show starting, my husband had gone off to sleep.  The player on the Bassoon was playing beautifully – but I was highly distracted because of one problem : my hubby does not know how to sleep off peacefully; he was snoring. 

So I gently stamp his feet.

Husband looks at me accusingly.  I whispered to him that he should not snore.

He looked at me as if wondering whether sleeping without snoring was at all possible – and he then tried to do an imitation of Mr. Bean by using his fingers to prevent his eye lids from closing.

Really – he does not know he is embarrassing not only himself but also me.  The person sitting next to him had started casting surreptitious glances in my direction wondering what kind of characters we were. 

In 2 minutes – and despite the Mr. Bean act - my husband had slumped in his seat and was nodding away.  And then suddenly he woke up with a start and looked all around as if trying to figure out where he is.  The people sitting behind him were not looking too pleased at his antics.

I elbowed him in his stomach.  Long experience of elbowing has ensured that when I elbow, people wake up.

He woke up, and started undoing his shirt buttons. 

“Hey, what are you doing” I ask him.

“it is very hot in here – and I think I will undo my shirt” he said.

Obviously his lack of sleep has started affecting his brain.  “Have you gone crazy?  Please sit quietly” I ordered him.

He was very hurt at these words.  “What is the problem?  This is a theatre –and they tolerate Salman Khan removing his shirt” he said.

He had started talking in his sleep obviously – so I pinched him really hard – the pinch I normally reserve for my son when he dares answer me back. 

He then woke up and started tossing and turning in his seat very restlessly.  I was too embarrassed to look at the people sitting in our neighbouring seats.  All I could do was to keep kicking his feet every 5 minutes so he does not go off into deep sleep and then making a spectacle of himself. 

Finally the show got over much to my relief and my husband somehow sleep-walked out of the theatre.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked him sarcastically.

“Not with all the kicking and pinching you were giving me” he said mournfully.

“I would not have kicked you if you had gone to sleep peacefully without creating a nuisance of yourself” I said.

“What could I do – the seats in Prithvi are not reclining and do not have proper head rests – so how can someone sleep peacefully?” he said.

I predict that we will not be visiting Prithvi anytime in the near future.

Message To The Stars

Dear Star : you called to inform about a major leap in your career - a significant increase in your responsibilities and role in your organization.  You wanted to express your gratitude for the mentoring and support that you said I had provided you, and which you think contributed to you reaching where you are today.

I have no recollection of providing you any such mentoring and support.  I believe you have risen due to your own efforts, and - as you yourself mentioned - also due to big dollops of Luck. It requires a lot of humility to acknowledge that many of our successes would not have happened without luck being on our side - and due to being in the right place at the right time.

I feel quite proud of the huge success you have achieved.  Genuine success is when others feel as much (if not more) happiness and pride in your success as you yourself do.  And for that to happen one needs to - as you have done - strive diligently, smile a lot, and be grateful for being where one is today.

Why You Should Not Talk To Your Wife About De-Cluttering Your Lives

"Now that we have become an empty nest, let us move to a smaller, more compact apartment" I told my wife.

My wife gave a very resigned look and said : "Don't blame our empty nest for the move - it is in your nature to get bored every few years and wanting a change".

But I had grossly under-estimated the challenge of shifting to a smaller place.  When we stay in large apartments we collect a lot of useless stuff over a period of time.  How do we now fit all these useless stuff into a small compact apartment with very limited storage space?

"We need to simplify our lives - so let us declutter" I told my wife.

My wife looked at me with apprehension - she knew nothing good happens when I talk philosophy.

"What do you mean?" she said.  I detected a tone of aggression in her voice.

"Better get rid of all the multiple sets of crockery - we need only 1 set of crockery" I told my wife.

"What?  Give away my priceless collection of crockery?  Why don't you give away your book collection?  We have 2 large over-flowing cupboards full of your books for which we have no space to store in our new TINY apartment" she said.

"Crockery is useless unlike books.  Going by the amount of crockery we have it would seem as if we regularly entertain a lot of guests" I said with sarcasm.

"Yeah, and going by the amount of books at our home people will mistakenly think you actually do read books" she said.

Unlike other husbands, I am not the one to give up a battle so easily.  So I replied : "Why don't you at least dispose off all these excess beddings and bed-sheets that you keep collecting?"

"And why do you need 3 harmoniums as if you are some great music Punditji?  You don't even use 1 harmonium regularly" she replied.

I wisely decided that it is easier to create more storage space in the new apartment.

Simplifying is not that simple. 

The Gift Of The Maruti

Now that we are moving houses to another locality, the one thing I am going to miss about our old Parle apartment is the periodic visits of the monkey.

This monkey would make sudden appearances on the huge tree overlooking our balcony, and then would amble along the length of our balcony checking whether any of the French windows are open for him to enter our apartment.  Unfortunately for him, on most occasions the French windows would have been firmly shut by my wife who would have been alerted by the ruckus created by his sworn enemies - the crows on the tree.

Maruti trying to open

the French window

He had mastered the art of opening the sliding French windows - he would check each French window on our balcony in an attempt to slide it open. Only once was he successful in entering our house - and he went off only after he took a packet of dates from our dining table.

My wife felt terrorized by this monkey.  She empirically discovered that whenever anyone in the house uttered the word "Monkey", it would unfailingly manifest itself on the balcony within a few hours. Hence usage of the word "monkey" was banned in our house - we were never supposed to bring up this word in our conversations.  My mother, however, found a way around this ban - and she started referring to the monkey as "Maruti" (the mythological term used for referring to Hanuman - the monkey God).  I felt that my mother actually secretly looked forward to the visits of Maruti.

Then abruptly his visits stopped.  We wondered what has happened to Maruti - has he been caught and put into some zoo?  My mother especially was quite concerned - she wanted to take one final look at Maruti as the last day of her stay with us in Mumbai was fast approaching.

Maruti did not disappoint.  On my mother's last day in Mumbai he suddenly appeared on our balcony.  He took a round of the balcony and then left after leaving behind a large packet of Cashew nuts on the balcony - no doubt his prize from a raid at some other house which he left behind for us as his gift. 

That was his final visit : we did not see Maruti after that day.

An Ode To The Kochi Libraries

A quick thanks to the several libraries that I benefitted from during my growing up years in Cochin (Kochi).

1.  The Corporation Library, Near erstwhile Galaxy theatre, Panayppilly : This was my 1st memory of a library - I must have been 4 years old when my father took me there.  Very cool place set back in spacious grounds.  Few books - but very select quality,and very friendly librarian - unusual for a municipal corporation employee. This library had lots of "foreign" children's books such as that of Popeye the sailor.  What smooth pages, how nice they smelt, and what good font and pictures!  I started loving spinach after I took a fancy to Popeye.

2. Mohan's lending Library - operated out a hole in the wall (almost) on Press Club Road, Ernakulam. I must have been around 9 years when I first visited it.  Saturday's was the day to visit my grand-mother in Ernakulam.  I used to look forward to it because I could get a fresh collection of books - both from the fantastic book collection of my grand-fathers' (the "Sudarshan" book collection) and also from Mohan's lending library. What hours of delight I had finishing off the entire Enid Blyton collection at Mohan's!  Each Enid Blyton book was 157 pages and I used to ration myself to reading only 25 pages per day - a very difficult task. I failed to control my temptation for some of the books (especially the Adventurous Five series) - and used to finish off the book within a day, and then spend the rest of the week ruing my inability to control my temptation.

3. Book Worms - at Chirattapalam.  I joined this library when I was about 10 or 11 years old.  This was run by a book lover and the father of my class mate, Edgar Pinto.  I got introduced to Tintin and Asterix comics in this library - and I moved up (with some encouragement from my dad) into reading "serious" adventure novels (WE Johns : "Biggles goes to war") and Wild West writers (Louis L'Amour, Oliver Strange "Sudden", JT Edson), and authors such as Alistair MacLean, and Arthur Haley.

4. Reader's Delight : Alas, I soon exhausted the limited but select collection at Book Worms.  But not to worry - Reader's Delight opened on Princess Street in Fort Cochin.  This was a good 3 km away from my residence - but luckily I had learnt to cycle by this time.   I got introduced to fiction writers such as Wilbur Smith, Desmond Bagley, Robert Ludlum, Fredrick Forsyth, Ross McDonald and Clive Cussler.  This was also the library where I took "seriously" to PG Wodehouse, and polished off most of the PGW collection.  I also took a fancy to the slightly raunchy UK magazine called "Tit-Bits" as this was a favourite of my dad's. It was an interesting trivia magazine, and my father did not mind I reading the magazine provided I did not stare too hard at the scantily clad ladies on the cover page.  Once while I was searching for old issues of Tit-Bits, I came across a "Play-Boy" magazine that the library owner had hidden away behind the shelf.

5. The Community Libraries : When I joined Cochin College for my 11th standard (Pre-Degree), I got hooked into quizzing by a teacher I greatly admired - Ajith Sir.  My nature of reading changed as I started moving away from fiction into "serious" fact related books and magazines.  There were 2 community libraries that I patronized heavily - the GSSO library near the Northern gate of the TD Temple in Cherlai, and the Samskruthi Bhavan library opposite the Cherlai TD temple tank. Both were oriented to helping youth succeed in their studies and career.  I borrowed extensively from their "serious" book collection and also borrowed magazines such as Competition Success Review, Competition Master etc

6. The Cochin College Library : This had a good library - but had poor accessibility as students were not allowed anywhere near the books.  I could not indulge in the pleasure of browsing the book collection and the satisfaction of discovering new authors.  One had to select books from a catalogue, and then put in a request to the librarian who will tell you if that book is available.  I could not do full justice to this library - and always wondered why they kept the students away from books.

7.  The YNP Trust Library at Koovapadam, Mattancherry.  I started frequenting this library when I joined for my BA Economics.  Partly because of my interest in quizzing and partly because I thought I was not learning enough from my graduation course, I felt the urge to somehow compensate for my learning inadequacies by accumulating knowledge. I started dipping into books on Indian culture, history, economics, and biographies.This library had a fantastic collection of encyclopedias which came in 32 volumes- and I used to spend hours in the reading section of the library.  The librarian got to know me so well that whenever he saw me approaching he would hand over to me the next volume in the encyclopedia collection.

Apart from the above "formal" libraries, I have to mention some informal libraries that I immensely benefitted from:

8.  The "Lilaksh" and "Sudarshan" home collection.  The "Lilaksh" collection was my father's book collection - mostly fiction authors like Alistair MacLean, Ian Fleming (James Bond), Nick Carter, Sexton Blake, Edward S Aarons, Berkley Grey, Erle Stanley Gardner (Perry Mason fascinated me so much at one stage that I almost signed up for my Law degree before better sense prevailed).  The "Sudarshan" collection was a massive, erudite and eclectic collection of my Grand Father's. The library contained also note-books in which my grand-father had laboriously written down notes and remarks in his meticulous and beautiful hand-writing - what a fantastic treasure!  My interest in reading literature came from my exposure to this collection.  Unfortunately most of these books had to be donated or given away for lack of space after the huge ancestral home was sold off.

I have to also thank my school class mate Brian Hallegua : once over a summer vacation he lent me his huge collection of over 60 James Hadley Chase novels.  Brian also introduced me to Alfred Hitchcock's writings (the Three Investigators series), Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys.

Finding a higher calling

We had recently gone to Dehu to see the famous Gatha temple on the banks of the Indrayani river dedicated to the works of Sant Tukaram.  He was a 17th century saint who wrote over 4100 abhang lyrics (Abhang are the Marathi devotional bhajans).  At the entrance to the temple we came across a middle aged person seated on a chair who would request people entering the temple to spare 10 minutes of their time to listen to him narrating the story of the place.  Many would just ignore him and proceed directly into the temple. 

Something about him made us stop and we clustered around him.

He then gave a beautiful description of the history behind the temple - especially the lost and found story of the lyrics - and did it in an engaging and humorous manner.  At the end of his talk - and to pre-empt us from offering him any payment - he said that he does this free as part of social service to tourists - and that he does not accept any fee.

Later on he invited me home - and I realised he works in an MNC and also owns a large mango orchard.  He also volunteers his weekends to taking classes for schools where he helps students on aspects such as personality development.

What impressed me about him is that he seems to have found a higher calling despite holding a hectic day job.  He is doing things that inspire him and keep him going - and he does it without any expectation of gratitude or recognition.

His name is Sri. Vittal Janoba Kaloke and you can find him most evenings at the magnificent Tukaram mandir at Dehu narrating the history behind this temple to anybody who is curious and willing to listen.

May more such individuals - who take the effort to find a higher calling  - thrive in this country.

Finally getting the better of Mr. Mhaskar

Yesterday while buying vegetables at the market, I suddenly spotted my upstairs neighbor Mr. Mhaskar busy haggling with the fish vendor.  I pretended not to have noticed him as the relationship between the two of us is a bit frosty. 

You see, Mr. Mhaskar is my “friend” on facebook and is very active on facebook "liking" all kinds of irrelevant and useless forwarded posts and photos.  He also used to “like” my blogposts, but ever since we had a quarrel regarding the car parking in the building, he has stopped “liking” my blog posts on fb. 

Now that is a major insult to me because he has now escalated our enmity to facebook by not “liking” my posts.  People who have nothing better to do must have started noticing that he has stopped liking my posts on fb, and must be making fun of me behind my back.

I paid off the vegetable vendor and was about to turn when Mr. Mhaskar bumped into me.  He was not watching where he was going – undoubtedly he was already dreaming of the dish his wife will soon prepare from the smelly fish.

“Hello, how are you doing?” he asked me.

He must have deliberately bumped into me to gloat over the fact that I have been getting 1 less “Like” for my fb post ever since he stopped liking my post.

But he will never succeed in discouraging me. So I said : “Oh hi. I have been busy writing my blogs”. I hoped that will give him the message that I will continue to write my blogs, and that I don't care for his "Like". 

He wrinkled his nose and said “Oh – you still write those blogs, do you?  I don’t remember seeing them since a long time”.

Useless fellow.  He was pretending that he does not read my blog.  He spends hours on fb daily and I am sure he reads my blog even now – but he wants to insult me by saying that he does not remember noticing it on fb. 

And then I had a brilliant brain wave.

I asked him : “By the way, how was your Italy trip?  I saw your snaps on fb.”

His face turned red like a tomato and he turned abruptly and walked away defeated. 

You know why? You see, I had just given him the biggest insult of his life.  I admitted to seeing his Italy holiday photos on fb – but I had not given a single “Like” to any of his Italy photos.  No sir.  No "Like" even to the photo where Mr. Mhaskar is pretending to be holding up the leaning tower of Pisa with one finger.  What kind of a person will not "like" such a photo?

I hastened home to tell my wife about this major victory.  My wife will have to admit that I have finally got the better of this scheming Mr. Mhaskar.

A Risque afternoon at Prithvi

Yesterday I took my brother and his family (visiting Mumbai for the 1st time) to watch a play at Prithvi.  After all, what better way to expose my brother and his family to the vibrant cultural atmosphere of Mumbai?

To my consternation I realised once the play "Shree Maan Chor" started, that the theme of the play was all about middle class hypocrisy with a liberal dose of spouse swapping thrown in.  It was a Hindi adaptation of a famous Italian satire by the celebrated Dario Fo, with a lot of funny and double entendre dialogues thrown in.

Soon the play reached the hottest scene : one of the women - as part of stimulation - uses a "whip" ("hunter" in Hindi) on her man.  Again all supposed to be in good fun - because the audience was roaring away with laughter.

My brother nervously glanced at his 8 year old son.  And I at my mother.  Both were pictures of rapt concentration.

At the end of the play I asked my mother how she liked it.

"I did not understand the play at all as it was all in Hindi" my mother very diplomatically replied.

My 8 year old nephew was more clear in his verdict. He wrinkled his nose and said :"It was OK - but it reminded me of school when the teacher was using the big whip to beat that person".  

Classical Music : The Debt I Owe YouTube

There was a time when the only artistes I appreciated (and whose cassettes and CDs I bought) were mega-stars such as Bhimsen Joshi, Kishori Amonkar, Zakir Hussain and Ravi Shankar.  The number of artistes I was aware of, and who I listened to, could be counted on the fingers of my hands.

I had no exposure to other artistes, and because space (and money) was limited I did not want to experiment buying cassettes and CDs (or attending concerts) of unknown performers.  Hence I stuck to a short repertoire of performers whose music I patronised.

It did not of course help that for a long time I did not stay in a metro city - hence I was not even exposed to any music circle that would have "educated" me to go beyond my limited repertoire.

Around 2008 I started becoming an active YouTube user.  For the 1st time I started getting exposed to performers outside my "short short-list".  For the 1st time I realised that there are fine artistes who were very talented - but for some reason (poor marketing, bad luck, or lack of supporting patrons) were not simply in the limelight.  Of course they would be known to connoisseurs and other artistes - but these would be a tiny fragment of the classical music listeners.

I am ashamed to admit - but it is a fact - that it is only thanks to YouTube that I got exposed to superbly talented artistes like Pt. Ulhas Kashalkar, Prabha Atre, Shruti Sadolikar, Yogesh Shamsi, and a lot many others.  In fact the size of my repertoire of "acceptable" performers expanded by 10 times sheerly because for the 1st time I could listen to (and view) recorded Live performances.  Because of the unique way YouTube randomly exposes a viewer to different performers I "discovered" young talent like Manjusha Patil and even younger artistes such as Aarti Nayak.

For the 1st time I realised that the world of Harmonium did not begin and end with the talented trio of Pt. Tulsidas Borkar, Pt. Purushottam Walavalkar, and Pt. Appasaheb Jalgaonkar.  For a person who is very passionate about the harmonium it would have been a major loss if I had not realised that there are other incredibly talented harmonium players who were emerging on the horizon bringing in their own creativity and talent.

Since my move to Mumbai 3 years ago, I am now living my dream of actually attending live music concerts of all these tens and tens of talented musicians who I have got to know intimately thanks to YouTube.  When I see them in a live show I already feel I know them intimately because I have watched them and listened to them for hundreds of hours on YouTube.  They have entertained me and raised my spirits while I was sitting in a city thousands of kilometers away where there was the remotest chance of a musician of that caliber ever visiting and performing.

YouTube's major achievement is to level the playing field - talented artistes - whether old or young - now have a platform for a wider audience to "stumble upon" and appreciate diverse talent.

I thank YouTube (and those who took the trouble for laboriously uploading the videos) for making me more aware of the hundereds of talented musicians who - practically speaking - would NOT have existed for me but for YouTube. 

Our Friends on Facebook

"Our mom is too inquisitive.  Why, she is so inquisitive that she even knows the complete history of the vegetable seller - which is his native place, how many children he has got, what ailments he suffers from ......." said the daughter.

"Not just the vegetable seller - she knows everything about our crazy laundryman, the watchman, and all the students in her yoga class" my son continued.

A mom bashing session was taking place.  Obviously, a fall-out of the mom doing a detailed probe on the state of their study assignments.

I cleared my throat, feeling it was time to come to her defense.  "Because your mom is a very caring person she wants to genuinely know everyone....."

"Hello, are you calling me over-friendly?" said my wife looking at me.  Somewhere she has realised that I am always a safer bet to pick on - an argument with kids can meander off in unintended tangents.

"You have to be....you even got a friend request on fb from the vegetable seller" said my son and both the off-springs burst into laughter.

"Well, I and the vegetable vendor had exchanged telephone numbers recently as I wanted him to inform me whenever some exotic vegetable like "Keerlu" is available.  And from then on fb started suggesting that we should be friends. But I am definitely not friends with him on fb" said my wife heading to the bedroom - a clear indication that she had enough of this discussion.

5 minutes later my attention is suddenly drawn to a monkey ambling along on our balcony. It was headed straight for the open bedroom window where my wife was having her siesta.

I quickly run to the bedroom.  The monkey was sitting on the bedroom balcony and peering through the window.  

The monkey saw me enter - and deciding it had better things to do, jumped into a nearby tree and disappeared.

"Wake up dear - a monkey almost entered the room.  It was sitting there wondering whether it should wake you up "  I said.

"Oh. Did you check whether it has sent me a friend request?" she said and went back to sleep.

Neighborly Exchanges

We heard from our building watchman that the apartment upstairs which was lying vacant for the last 2 years is finally getting occupied.  Apparently the owner of the apartment himself was moving in.

A shower of dry leaves from the balcony upstairs onto our balcony indicated that the move has indeed happened.  We got positive confirmation about the move when a deluge of water from the flower pots upstairs showered on to the clothes left out to dry on our balcony.

My wife sent our maid upstairs to request them to inform us the next time they plan to water their plants so that we can remove the clothes from our balcony.

Today when I entered the elevator it was occupied by a person with a grumpy face.  Wanting to bring joy and sunshine into the world, I wished this person a hearty and joyous "Good morning".

The fact that my hearty greeting was met with an even grumpier look made me realize that this must be our upstairs neighbor.

Here is what happened in the 2 minute ride in the elevator.

I : "Hope you have settled down well".

He : "Your car was parked in such a way that I could not park my car in my parking space".

I : "My car was not blocking your car parking space.  You can reverse park your car comfortably the way all of us do".

He : "I don't like to reverse park my car".

One minute Silence as I suppressed the various funny repartee's that came to my mind.

He : "There is space out on the road where you can park your car"

I  : "I will henceforth consult you whenever I need to park my car."

One Minute Silence again as he pondered what other topic of national importance can he discuss.

He : "Some water and garbage will always fall onto the balcony of the apartment downstairs.  It is your responsibility to ensure that you install an extension roof for your balcony in order to protect yourself."

I : "Yesterday someone was throwing rotten tomatoes at people passing by. So don't be surprised if you see everybody walking on the road today wearing a helmet."

Another minute's silence as he pondered about the mental stability of his neighbor downstairs.

When we alighted from the lift I cheerfully wished him to have a great day.  The look he gave me indicated that the last thing he wanted to have was a good day.