The Check List

We test drive a car before buying it. We ought to be able to test drive our spouses, partners too. Here’s why-

  • You meticulously switch off the lights and fan when exiting a room. Their motto in life is to forget it. Always.
  • You hang your wet towels out to dry on the clothesline or drying rack. They feel a bed is the best way to get the job done. And somehow never seem to leave it on the side of the bed they sleep in; its always on yours.
  • You love to read in bed. They act like a minute beam of light is blinding and continue to toss and turn till the bed seems to be suffering from tectonic movements.
  •  You watch/read mainstream movies and novels. They watch award-winning foreign language movies which are dark and dreary and someone always seems to die or be dying and read books which are as straight and uncomplicated as a jalebi (or pretzel, take your pick).
  • You want your bathroom tiles to be “cheerful”. They raise eyebrows at you and say just pick something where the grime won’t show up and keep mumbling about the ridiculous adjective of cheerful for bathroom tiles!
  • You usually know where your essential accessories are. They need a map. Everyday. Without Fail.

That and many more reasons are why you should know a person beyond their favorite color and food.
You just might end up shivering next to a person who ends up rolling themselves up like a spring roll in a comforter meant for two while you ponder about whether you would be justified in kicking them of bed altogether.

OR in time you could gaze upon your giggling offspring and say isn’t that the most beautiful face ever? They would agree.

So it works both ways 🙂

Residue

People often talk so dismissively of residues. It’s what’s left behind afterall when all the better, more worthwhile stuff has been availed or done with.

But residues are important too because they are the only glimpse into what transpired long after something has ceased to be.

I am terribly maudlin today. I’m sitting in my empty apartment and all around me are residues. Of my child crawling and leaving grubby handprints while he learnt to walk with support, of his discovery of crayons and markers (the walls bear testimony), the marks left by the tape I used to put up pictures and glow-in-the dark figurines for him…

The couches I plonked myself in, the spot by the wall where the fridge used to be, the empty library, the beds we slept in..all seem to have left an impression in their places while they make a new home for themselves in the new apartment.

I can actually see myself from back then..the talks that went into the night, the smallish balcony where every new flower was photographed and published on Facebook (much to Red’s annoyance)…

All that’s left are residues of a family who lived here…cooked, laughed, cried, spent seemingly endless time putting a baby to sleep…and made memories together.

And now that I look back..it was all good.