Red Land and blue land are two neighbouring states, is generally the opening narrative of any Army exercise. When it comes to more than two “naughty” neighbours then we refer them as Nark and Chandal. No need to guess who is who. One is burning from within and the other engages with us like a devil. India keeps trying to tackle them but hasn’t been very successful till date.
Same is the case in the neighbourhood of Swarg. On one side I have Nark and the other side the chandals. Both are friendly and diplomatic and say “Namaste bhai saab” but both are jealous and envious of the hard work we have put in the garden and our life style.
The difference between Swarg and them is that we are a land of traditions, sabhyata, sanskar and grooming in the best of manners and etiquettes from the best of institutions. They are raw, crude, rusty, a little uncouth, loud mouthed yellers who incite you to pick up a fight for every small little thing. India just ignores them and moves on.
The compliment I got on buying my bike was bhai saab aap ne nai “fatfatti” li hai. Hello madam hawa ane do. I controlled and counted till ten and said to myself bhabhi ji, my bike goes dug dug dug dug and not pit pit pit pit pittrrrrrrrr like yours. How dare you call it what you called it! This was while we were enjoying our evening cup of tea in the garden. You think I would have given mithai for such a compliment. Well, with a heavy heart I did, even India-Pakistan exchange sweets on happy occasions.
The other country could not be left far behind. This is how the parleys went. Actually Bhaisaab hum bhi motorcycle khareedne hi wale the, par mere Mister ko scooty pasand hai. Fir main bhi chala leti hun so humne idea drop kar diya. I kept waiting for some further inputs like congratulations on your new purchase but the only thing I registered was padosi hone ki pahli mithai to banti hai. I went inside and told my daughter poora dabba pakra de, kahin nazar na laga de meri bike ko.
This neighbour keeps doing the dhoklam thing once in a while. We have a mango tree in our back yard and it was laden with fruit this year & half the branches over hang on their terrace. The fruit was hanging so low that we could touch it. I requested our horticulture people to pluck the fruit. They told us Sir, there is about two to three weeks time for them to ripen so we waited. One fine Sunday we went to Alibaug and on return all mangoes were gone till where her bamboo could reach. To kill her guilt she sent about a dozen across. We gave it to our safaiwala. The icing on the cake was when our people came they plucked out more than four buckets full in the first go and same number after another twenty days. We distributed them to the world, not them. Khundak main.
I have these neat rows of bricks geru chunaed nicely. This lady will place her foot on one of the bricks as if asserting her dominance and shake it till it gets up stuck. Same happens in case of a common water tap. They know that every evening after office we water our plants. They will come and ghusao their pipe in it just before our time. We didn’t react. We waited how long one can water their lawn. Then feeling guilty she said, bhai saab lawn main pani dena tha kya, still wondering why we have not reacted or requested her for our turn. This thing continued for a week, we just didn’t react. Now she has lost interest in watering her plants.
The story doesn’t end here. The amount of surveillance done on us is fantastic. Can you guess who their spies are? If there is a bunch of slippers lying outside, people go on a vigil as to what is the occasion. Conversations are over heard by taking positions like snipers in windows. Eavesdropping is routine. Anybody visiting our place has to go through their personal scrutiny as if the Dalai Lama has visited Arunachal.
God bless both my neighbouring countries. Their frustration levels have reached such a peak that their fatfaties are now backfiring. They need to service their minds and mentality or else this guessing game will kill them. I and my wife enjoy this cold war. We sit on our bike, give them the biggest smile and wish them the time of the day. I wave at both these “Bhabhi jis” but I avoid giving them a flying kiss for obvious reasons and go dug dug dug dug dug dug dug dug………………………