So when the coffee table of malls, stalls and all no longer blinded my vision, came the time I was introduced to my in-laws – the people of
I realized that the city was never made keeping in mind the privacy of the Rs. 2.3 Lakhs per annum baby engineers like me. For us the only option was the top floors of the houses of the kothiwalas. Our options were exponentially reduced when we wanted a separate entry. And like one of the K-series Nanads (sister in laws) who are sugar-sweet to the new brides but are back-biter-Komolikas actually, the overtly friendly brokers did their best to get me the rawest deals in the city. Finally, I settled down for a one B , no H, and K-on-the-terrace place , with entry right under the nose of my landlady!
This was my first stint with my in-laws – the people of
By the way, soon they’ll get bored of you and you must now graciously make way for the other “sweet and friendly” tenants.
No wonder that I soon began disliking everything about the city. From the cloyingly “sweet and friendly” aunties who couldn’t care less if you ate a frog to the apathetic bystanders who too wouldn’t give a damn if a frog ate you! From the goggled, nose-in-the-air beauties that spoke in affected accents to the cars blaring Punjabi MC in bass-boost, the back of which almost always reads something like “ziddi jaat”.
The autowallahs who’d come up with excuses as lame as “madam aaj bahut garmi hai” to up the fare; the pepper sprays waiting to be sprayed in the eyes of a potential rapist; the DTC buses still running like mad bulls, stopping at whim, running people over with chutzpah… I have been cursing it all for three years now.
When a marriage goes bad, often people look outside of the relationship. After three years of trying to work it out in vein , my marriage with
I know the answer is a No. A No in bold! Suddenly, all the BCs and MCs that the Dilliwallahs hurl effortlessly in a fit of road rage seem friendly, rather than abusive, utterances. The bass-boost Punjabi MC music of the ziddi jaats brings a smile to my face. The metro lines that were only lumps of concrete and steel when I first saw them, now, in their full glory, remind me of a line from a Horlicks ad-jingle “ Kab chupke se hui badi”!!