It’s now more than five years since we moved to this city. That is the longest I’ve stayed in one place after my marriage. We are so accustomed to moving around that Pickwick still keeps asking me ‘When are me moving to a new house, Mummy?’ He thinks it’s perfectly normal to move houses like one upgrades mobile phones.
For me this has now become my second home. Not yet my first love, but more like a happy crush one thinks fondly of. But when we came here the whole thing was a bit of a culture shock. Tiny things, that make you realise that you’re from a completely different world. Take loos for example. Yes, Loos. We wash. Here, they wipe. No really, I don’t get it. Do you say ‘Gee, I’m all sweaty. Let me wad up a bunch of paper towels, wipe my armpits, and a quick dab all over, and Voila! I’m all clean’? NO? Then how the hell is it okay to do that for arses? And there is no concept of floor drains in loos. How the hell are you supposed to wash the floors of the loos? And we’re supposed to be the third world country??
Speaking of washing, we, that is, us Indians are obsessed with bathrooms. We need more bathrooms. When we first came here, we went looking for places to rent. The estate agent showed us plenty of houses, mansions even with 5 bedrooms, a reception room, a dining room a conservatory and one, yes, ONE bathroom and ONE toilet! I mean what is it with these guys? Don’t they ever need a shower? Oh yes, I forget – all they need is paper towels.
We have recently invested in a small apartment in India. We are delighted with it. When people ask us about it, we say, ‘Oh, it’s not much, it’s just a 2 BHK, and the proportions are quite small but it’s got TWO BATHROOMS!’