Shanthi Om and Ashanthi Home.

In January 2014, we will be changing our house again. We have already started searching from December 1, 2013 and as on 31st December, the search for the ideal ‘rented house’ still evades us. Now for a person who is lucky to own a house in Chennai or for that matter anywhere else in India, this may not sound as a big deal. You may wonder what the hue and cry is all about. Just contact a broker or better still search in free ads, lo and behold the perfect house for rent lands up perfectly gift-wrapped on your lap on Christmas eve. Unfortunately, this isn’t how the brickwork for renting a house is laid.

Let me explain it in a different context. Most of us Indians (even though a few like me thankfully didn’t have to face the girl-seeing-tea-giving ritual) have a practical knowledge of how the arranged marriage industry operates. The search for the ideal life partner may take months and sometimes years. A friend of mine has been searching for 6 years, another for one year and one after a depressing search of one and half years has finally hooked the perfect catch... oops the perfect match! By the time their parents, relatives and well-wishers have sorted through the maze of country-state-religion-caste-subcaste-horoscope-education-family/financial background-colour-age-height-dowry (and various other weird requirements that I can’t even mention here), the ‘ideal’ life partner ends up looking like Homo sapien Godzillaous. It’s a physically-mentally-emotionally draining journey for the boy/girl whereby at the end of the search they have already contemplated becoming a brahmachari (monk) and running off to the Himalayas.

Anyway in short, that’s how searching a house for rent is like. There is nothing called the ideal match and it’s almost mission impossible to pair the right house to the right tenant. And midway through the search, you feel like packing up your suitcase and living on the pavement. After that, it’s the government’s headache to search a house for you.

So here are my top five peeves against the house hunting business:

1. I am not a slumdog millionaire – In Chennai, every good-looking street ends in a slum. For the rent we pay, the least we expect is to get a decent house. But no, of course that can’t be done. Just like the Snow White story, the broker takes us through enchanting residential areas and parks his Activa right in the centre of an ugly slum. Just picture ribbon-thin, unpaved roads, colourful pots, screaming kids, drunkards, crying women, garbage on the street and leering men in lungis. Perfect setting to make an Oscar-winning movie but not to lead your life in peace.

Shell-shockers #1-Rentophobia

2. Where is the kitchen Anna? – I firmly believe that women should enter the Real estate business. Otherwise, how can anyone with a brain build a house without planning for a proper kitchen? It’s like some Mr. Landownermoorthi thought one fine day… “Let’s build a house and fleece a hapless couple. 2 rooms, 2 bathrooms, one balcony and one hall. All in 650 sq ft. Done!” 

“What about the kitchen mama?” Asks the meek Mrs. Landownermoorthi. In response Mr. Landownermoorthi gives the Mrs a dirty look, throws in a room the size of a matchbox and a matchstick for a washbasin, and calls it a kitchen.

3. Non veg aaa? Aiyo house Ilaaa! – Now Mr. Landownermoorthi comes built-in with several imaginary squares on top of his head, which he ticks, or crosses based on whether we fulfill his criteria of the ideal tenant. ‘Familyaa?’ ‘Yes sir’ - small tick. ‘Christianaa?’ ‘Yes sir’ – small cross. ‘Non vegaaa?’ ‘Yes sir’ – very big cross. ‘Aiyo sir, sorry house no vacant!’ Maybe he visualizes us on weekends wearing long grasses, holding skulls and bones in hand and dancing around a fire in his precious matchbox kitchen.      

4. Parking space, just around the corner – This reminds me of the matrimonial ads in newspapers – ‘fair, homely, talented and well-versed in home-making (whatever that means)’. The real deal will be just the opposite. Indian fair aka brown, wears western clothes, and cooking skills will be limited to boiling water. The broker assures us that the house comes with ‘ample parking space’ while when you ask the House Owner he responds without a break that there’s no parking space available but we can ‘feel free’ to park our vehicles around the corner of the street. So Mr. House Owner you can park your rusted 15 year old Maruthi 800 in a covered car-park while we should park our Royal Enfield Bullet Classic 500 and brand new Scooty Pep Plus in the open? Of course, why not!

5. Advance one lakh fifty thousand wonly and don’t forget broker’s commission please – Even by chance and with the broker’s blessings, you are able to cross the above hurdles, the House Owner bowls the final googly by asking for an advance amount that will make sure that you get an Angioplasty early in life. While behind you, the Broker gently taps on your shoulder and reminds you that you need to pay his commission well in advance.

   

Naturally, the list doesn’t stop here. If needed, I can fill an Encyclopedia on the do’s and don’ts of searching houses for rent. For now, what I need is a Shanthi Home. A piece of land to call my own and peace on Earth. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all.

PS: By the way, wasn’t Jesus born in a stable? Hmm. Seems even the Gods have to struggle to get proper lodging on Earth.                           

The twisted tale of the shape-shifting Jackal, the Monkey, the Donkey, and the half-blood Peacock-Hyena

Once upon a time, in a 4x4 concrete jungle, there ruled a she Jackal who could change shapes on will. The kingdom of Hierarchy had ordained the Jackal as the Queen as she was the oldest and the loudest of all. And of course, she could change forms as she wished - a huge plus in the hallowed order of Grapevine where wolves roamed in sheep's clothing, skunks walked free and cats imitated the tigers.

The Jackal had under her rule, a Monkey, a Donkey and a half-blood Peacock-Hyena. The Monkey jumped the highest of all, loved eating bananas, and yes-maned to whatever the Jackal ordered. The Donkey carried the burden of the entire world on her shoulders as if it was hers, never had an opinion of her own, and was used as a football by the team every alternate weekends.The Peacock-Hyena was the newest member of the Jungle. She had two sides to her - one for the world that mattered and the other for the world that didn't count. She exhibited her beautiful peacock plumes to the world at large, which attracted animals from far and wild. She was careful to show her brightest, cheeriest side to the Jackal, while on the other side the Hyena in her mocked and bullied her peers and passed on team gossip to the higher-ups.

The Queendom of Wishdom (as it was popularly called) was ruled with an iron hand by the Jackal. Only a selected few who bowed down to the pecking order could enter and none could leave. All was well in the Queendom until it was decided by the Higher Enterprise of Animal Loyalty (HEAL) to bring together all animals on a Jungle Safari.

As the order came from the all-powerful HEAL, the Jackal grudgingly decided to attend the Jungle Safari with her minions. But it was below her dignity to travel with the horde so she got her own Chariot and traveled in royal style. The two days went in a rush. The Jackal changed shapes to please the mass. The Monkey jumped around a lot and ate bananas to a bunch. The Peacock-Hyena preened and strutted displaying her best. And the donkey seeing the free wild, forgot herself,  tried to develop wings and fly away.

Now the poor donkey didn't know the unwritten rule that in the concrete jungle nobody changed their hues. A donkey can never be allowed to be a dove and fly without fear. Immediately after the jungle safari, the Jackal called an urgent meeting of her minions.

"How dare you?" howled the Jackal in righteous temper, "How dare you not lick my feet and follow my tail at the Jungle Safari? The Monkey got me two ripe and juicy bananas and the Peacock-Hyena pranced along with me all over."

"But wasn't the Safari about bonding with others? Being free and forgetting everything?" stammered the confused Donkey.

"Oh, silly Donkey! I proclaim you peevish, selfish, wildish, schemish, childish, howlish, singularish, animalish...!" the Jackal howled, adding up all the 'ish' she knew in the big world-wild.

"Don't forget to add that she showed 2 cms more teeth than she is allowed." said the oh-so-charming Peacock-Hyena.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" yes-maned the Monkey.

The Donkey cowered, searching for trees to hide behind but found none.

"Why don't we clip her wings to set an example?" suggested the trickster Peacock-Hyena.

"Right! None can have their wishes in Wishdom. Let the Donkey be the example on what happens when one wishes beyond their wildest wishes." proclaimed the Jackal.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" yes-maned the Monkey.

The three pounced on the Donkey suddenly. The Monkey and the Peacock-Hyena held her tight while the Jackal cut the Donkey's week-old-almost-invisible wings with much aplomb. Then they left the Donkey bleeding on the ground as if nothing had ever happened to ripple the mighty Pecking Order.

The next day, the Donkey went back to Wishdom carrying a heavy burden on her shoulders. The Jackal congratulated her on her dedication and commitment to the Kingdom of Hierarchy and Grapevine. The Monkey and Peacock-Hyena welcomed her with open hands.
Only the Donkey knew that what was lost, was lost forever. But she remained quiet and followed the Pack, one among many in the Kingdom of Hierarchy.

When time stood still...

Footprints left on the sands of time fade but memories last forever.  

This weekend, I went to Pondicherry. Nothing remarkable about it, when you consider that Pondi (as it is popularly called) is just 3 hours drive from Chennai and accessible anytime. What made it memorable was that I went out with my office team of 45 people and the wonderful memories that will remain a part of me forever.

We started at 8.30 am and reached Pondi at around 12 pm. The Wildflower resort is difficult to find; we got lost and had to ask for directions several times before we reached the resort. Wildflower is aptly named - safely hidden in a village at the edge of the ocean, in a place where nature rather than technology still rules. It was worth the effort, Wildflower gives you everything to take your mind off the downsides of city life.

Well, there is nothing to write about the office 'team bonding/team building initiative' by itself. It was like any other office party at any other corporate - a bunch of uncomfortable people put together for 2 days in close proximity and deep animosity pretending to be cool and hep and ready to run away at a moment's notice! So as expected there were lots of drinks, games, hugs, smiles, appreciations, dancing, and people breaking into groups based on their pecking-order in the corporate hierarchy. On the brighter side, people let go off their inhibitions and revealed parts of themselves that we never knew even existed. It's a different thing that these same people will again go back to office on Monday and cover themselves in layers of hypocrisy and bullshit.

The moment that remains etched in my memory is the morning after the late night drinking and dancing, when my colleagues woke me up for a walk on the beach. I refused at first in favour of few more hours of sleep. Then something made me realize that I can sleep everyday but this opportunity will be lost forever. The walk to the beach by itself was music to my senses. A rickety fence housing a gaggle of geese, that opened up to an unplanned palm grove, that led to a meandering stone pathway and finally to the clear turquoise ocean. Wild flowers - purple and white carpeted the otherwise pristine and clean beach. The sun hadn't still shown its face and yet it was not dark; it was the Peter Pan moment between blinding darkness and burning heat - when everything is perfect and time stands still for eternity.

Searching for peace...at WildFlower Resort

I was with a group and yet alone. Just the unbridled ocean, sand under my feet, the wind in my hair and nothing else. It was peace. I basked in the knowledge that nothing mattered and nobody can snatch this moment from me. Call it nirvana, meditation, God.... for me that moment was beyond words.  I stood there for a long time watching, at peace, as the waves rose and the sun finally fought its way through the wall of clouds.

The moment faded. Peter Pan went back to the realms of fairy tales. And I traced my steps back to the resort. But that memory still remains fresh in my mind - treasured forever.