To many, about 100%, my first impression falls of a person who is so friendly and sweet. To others, another 100%, I seem like a serious person with only interest in life being immersed in books as they 'consult' me about their children/s education and field/s of interest and ask me to 'guide' them.
I wish I could shout with my lungs out, 'I am not what you think me to be' and that most of the time I would like to be left alone rather than feigning a plastic smile welcoming endless guests in the house.
I am fed up, simply wiped out.
My father is too gregarious and doesn't even allow a postman to leave without having a cup of tea in his presence. My mother has stopped complaining after years of complaining as she knows nothing will deter her husband from his mission.
Chai,chai
Our house seems like a railway platform on holidays with people thronging in from everywhere.
Not always on their own but over a very friendly invitation over phone-
"So what are you doing today? Come over a cup of tea, we will talk. You don't like tea, never mind, have breakfast or lunch with me."
RSVP : obviously my father's.
He doesn't think what trouble it is for the female members (my mother on 365+1 days and I, during my holidays) to come downstairs in the kitchen everytime the guests arrive and they are expected to be treated royally.
I curse the person who framed 'Atithi Devo Bhava' , the famous Indian quote that my father often quotes. But is there any option when he calls out and says- 'beta, uncle aaye hain, kuch chai, coffee pilaao'
I pray to God that these uncles refuse to have anything so that I am spared but they grin and say, why not!
Why not! Why yes?
The worst part is when tea is taken in a tray with biscuits and other snacks to the drawing room, the taker (again, either my mother or I as there is no full time servant in our house) must not go away abruptly but has to say 'namaste' to the guest/s and stop to answer his/their queries or simply to smile at his/their rhetorical queries or statements.
Sample:
1) Usually to my mom, 'kaisi hain aap, tabiyat theek hai na,'(how are you, how about your health) 'sit, won't you?' etc.etc.
2) To me and at times even to my brother (who fortunately is spared most of time as he prefers to sleep throughout the day and throughout the night during his vacation) , from 'kis company me kaam karte hain' (which company you work with) to 'kitne bade ho gaye, itne chote the tab dekha tha' (how much have you grown, I/we had seen you when you were thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis small.)
Yesterday I bought a Nescafe tea/coffee vending machine for easing out the 'tea task', that I may call this muddle for want of a better term. Euphoria sets in the house. Papa is enthusiastic as he tries to learn how to operate it. Mummy is relaxed and exclaims, 'now we can breathe when guests arrive. Your papa might as well invite the whole town, says she in jest.
Which is what he does.
He invites atleast six to seven friends to 'come and see what Sonal, my daughter, gifted to me.'
As another set of uncles arrive the next day, I can't even grumble at my father's logic: 'now that the machine is here, mummy and you won't have any problem in preparing tea. Just pour five cups and keep them on dining table and tap gently. I will get the hint and come to carry the tray to drawing room.'
Actually I haven't bought any vending machine. Just imagining what would have happened if I had done so.
The up down movement on the stairs continue.
