All is well that ends well

All is well that ends well

Invitees who missed our housewarming ceremony held on a working day, now begin to trickle. No issues. Thankfully, we can now pay individual attention and take them on a conducted tour of our complex. Only one problem, however, during such sessions. Instead of evaluating independently the facility that is being shown around, the visitors (nay, all of us) tend to compare it with one’s own, or the lack of it back home, and respond accordingly.

“This is Food World; one can buy all groceries here,”  we said proudly as we took them to the first point in Club House. “Ours, is slightly smaller in size but better stocked. Also they don’t charge MRP;  isn’t it?” asked the elderly lady turning to her daughter in law, for a touch of authenticity. 

“These are two halls, one bigger, where you can hold parties. Both are air-conditioned,” we showed them the second floor. “Bangalore weather doesn’t need an air conditioner.  Power goes off most of the time, in any case.” quipped the lady.

“And, over here, this is a badminton court.”  “Such a huge one, isn’t it Amma?“ blurted out the d-i-l. “May be, dear, but in our place residents stand in queue for their turn, don’t they? Here,  they had to open the doors and switch on lights to show this to us. And mind you today is a Sunday,” continued the lady, in Virat Kohli style of batting attack. 

Almost sure that at this rate the Carrom/chess hall and the Yoga rooms will cut no ice, we skipped and moved on. “Here one can play billiards,” we showed, certain that this exclusive item would make the grade. “I wonder how many know what billiards is. Do you?” she asked Aunty, catching her off guard.  

“Look Amma, how big is their swimming pool?” dared the daughter in law once again. “Agreed, but when all the 900 families move in, it will be like Haridwar on Kumbh Mela where pilgrims scramble for a dip,” said the lady, the remark qualifying for a replay of  ‘masterly strokes’.

“I think the joggers park will hit the bull’s eye,” I guessed as we took them there. “See how well laid out it is; one can take a morning walk by the side of the forest.”  “…in the company of mosquitoes and their chorus-humming chasing you,” she completed the sentence.

“It takes about six minutes to complete one round,” I continued, hellbent on getting a good word on its long stretch. “But in my complex, I finish three rounds in five minutes.” responded the lady. I still can’t figure out if she meant it as a compliment or complaint. Anyway. “Over there you have basketball and tennis courts,” we gestured. “These IT boys and girls don’t get time even to watch Wimbledon or US Open, let alone play the game,” she brushed off.

It was time for a cup of coffee before they drove back. We walked up to the lift to see them off. As we waited, I summed up the visit mentally, “Love’s Labour Lost”. Suddenly I heard the lady address my wife, “Lalitha honestly I feel like relocating to your complex this evening itself - such an imposing structure and grandeur. Your balcony view is simply fantastic.”

“That is enough,” my wife murmured as the lift closed. That made light of the heap of utensils that awaited cleaning.

V V Sundaram

Maple 3195

P.S. At night we got a call from them, “I say, can you give me the brand and model number of the water purifier that you have installed? The water tasted good. Also, what did you say was the name of the shop from whom you got your dining table and the sofa set?” We had not said anything, but we gave them the details.