A (Guilty) Peeping Neighbour (Munirka Part 4)

The extended dining room space, where I had spent my first night in the house, was not what it had been then. With the six by four cot always proudly sporting one of the good bed-sheets and the bolsters, and with two of our single sofa-chairs for company, the room looked inviting and sometimes even royal. During the summers it had an added advantage of being the closest in proximity to the cooler which was placed in the remnant of the balcony. Our good old cooler chilled the room and was effective even to reach out to the room where my parents slept. During this season, the hottest parts of the house – my room and the store room adjacent to it – were bereft of any of the cooler’s soothing air and remained abandoned. 

I practically lived in that extension throughout our stay at Munirka. I did my homework and most of the daytime studying there. During the study leave that we had for our board exams I would sit there till around eleven, trying to study, and then slowly edge out onto the balcony for the benefit of sunlight. I would put out a rajai over the bar of the balcony to hide myself from the public view, leaving a narrow gap at the edge, so that the public was not spared from my view. I would spread a mat on the floor of the balcony and collecting my books and food I would proceed to enjoy the sunshine and the view till sunset.

It was from this vantage point that I observed the many neighbours we had. Our building was fashioned such that there were two MIG flats on the ground floor and the first floor upwards there was one HIG flat per floor. We lived on the second floor. On looking down from the balcony, I could see the open verandah of a ground floor house. It was occupied by a family of four: the couple and their two very small children, who were a source of unending entertainment.

The elder of the two, was a very naughty girl called Joshna. Little Joshna had a little brother,  named Krishna. But after the movie sequel to Koi Mil Gaya came about, he started being called Krrish. The little boy would usually be at work on his own when the sister would come and snatch away whatever he was engaged with. When, after a moment of realization, little Krrish would let out a howl, it would be immediately responded by a howl from inside their house. Their young mother would call out “Joshnaa..!” very shrilly. She already knew that she was the cause Krrish crying.

Sometimes, when Joshna knew that I was looking at her, she would answer her mother with a “Haan mummy” like a mature girl. What an obedient daughter! The little boy was more genuine. He had a fascination for balls. He wanted anything and everything round, even the two dimensional circle would do. He would even try to snatch the ball off the TV screen when a match was in progress.

The extent of this madness, if I may term his baby obsession that way, was certified by Amma. Returning from the Mother Dairy one evening, she stood talking to the children’s mother in front of their house. For a part of the conversation little Krrish stood by his mother intently watching Amma. And then all of a sudden, exclaimed in broken words with his arm outstretched towards Amma, “Ball chaiye!” She was not sure what the boy wanted. His mother then told her that he was obsessed with anything circular and now wanted the bindi on Amma’s forehead. She took off her bindi and pasted it on little Krrish’s arm. He replied her with a smile and then got engrossed with the maroon “ball” on his fair arm.

The father of the family was a young, easily angered man, with a thick moustache. He did some small-time business, I believe. He used to leave for work very late in the morning, would return for lunch, but come very late at night. He decided to get a sofa-cum-bed made at his home. He arranged for good wood and appointed a carpenter for the work. Working in the mellow winter sun with the two children around for entertainment and company, the worker, barely a man, kept himself at work for a couple of weeks. He was not a very regular visitor. Often in the morning when the father came out into the verandah and saw the unfinished cot, he would call the worker and talk with him for long, pleading and threatening alternatively. Finally after what seemed like many days, the basic sofa-cum-bed was ready.

The family had had enough of seeing the unfinished piece of work at their front door. But for the kids it had become a plaything. Joshna would climb up onto the cot, then onto its head and from there onto the fencing wall of her house holding the metal bars. She would stand there admiring the thoroughfare on the street just outside the fence and the big boys playing in the park beyond. Occasionally she would look up to her right, and finding me there would pass a fake coy smile. Out of curiosity, little Krrish would follow her onto the cot, having to put a little more effort than his sister. But that was the limit for him. He couldn’t climb any further with his little chubby legs.

Once when Joshna tired her hands at the metal bars, she attempted climbing down to get to the head of the cot. But it was out of her reaches of bravery. Climbing up was easy, but moving down not so much. She was desperate but couldn't call out to her mother, who had forbidden her from climbing the cot in the first place. Seeing her brother’s face a little nearer than the head of the cot she took recourse there. It was cruel. I winced hearing his cry when his sister’s shoe pressured upon his cheek. By the time the mother came out running, Joshna had managed to get down onto the cot with her brother and was trying to quiet him. Forgetting the momentary pain and enjoying the unusual attention from his sister, Krrish stopped crying.

There was another subject to my view. This was the family of the press-wala. The press-wala had set up shop in a corner garage in the building across the park. Both husband and wife ironed the clothes of the neighbourhood all day long. They had two daughters, both of whom attended school. Their house was some place else. After school the girls would come to the garage area and study there until sundown. When it became dark the family sat down together and ate their simple dinner. Thereafter, they packed all their belongings and set off for home.

We never gave our clothes to them for ironing though. They charged a bit too much. We had set up our own ironing station in the store room using the low book stand as the board. This store room was once made quite hospitable and welcoming. Geetu and her family were coming to Delhi and were staying with us. Besides Uncle, Aunty, Geetu and Dadu, their maid servant too was coming. Before their arrival Amma changed the face of the room and made it so cosy-looking that I myself was at one point tempted to sleep there. But this room was for their maid servant. She was a sweet person and a great cook.

We had a lot of out-station guests in that one and a half year at Munirka. And since we had a bigger house now, we were able to accommodate them better. Soon after my classes in tenth began, Joseph Uncle, Nisha Aunty, Della and Appu came from Kerala. Within a week of their departure, Geo and Gino, my cousins, arrived with their parents. One of my mother’s cousins, Varghese Uncle, came to stay with us for a few days. There was another relative, who had a rags-to-riches-by-acting-like-a-boss story and slept sitting upright most of the time. We had other people as well whom I don’t clearly remember. It was during our stay at Munirka that I, my sister and Amma, successfully completed one season of Lent fasting. I have never been able to accomplish that feat after that. Truly, it’s easier to accomplish things together than alone.