The Prodigal has Returned from America

chillibreeze writer — Harini Sethuraman

At the end of week one in Mumbai, I have to my credit the following:

• Peeved Mom
• Cell phone with outgoing barred
• A totally pissed rickshaw wallah (make that 2)
• One eve-teaser less in my side of town (I hope)
• Lighter wallet

To elaborate,

Peeved Mom story:

Tuesday morning, 7:45 am.

Step out from shower. Need to blow dry hair, to make it look unlike raggedy doll. Discover that hair dryer is broken— motor burnt while self was away across seven seas. Sigh exasperatedly about looking like raggedy doll on day 1 in Mumbai office. Keep grumbling about broken hair dryer through breakfast.

Mom gives me a piece of her mind: Do you realize that Mumbai has just faced a natural disaster where people have lost lives among other things, and all you worry about is a "Hair Dryer." Feel ashamed. Mom goes on about lack of civic responsibility. Feel like burying self ostrich-like.

Cell phone with outgoing barred:

My cell phone operator decides to bill me for charges incurred in Feb' 05 in Jun'05. I take my time understanding that delayed billing scenario. Operator loses patience, sends several warning messages that outgoing shall be barred. Self ignores messages, outgoing barred, continue to receive messages about incoming to be barred if payment not made. Finally, shake self out of lazy stupor and walk in to make appropriate payments. All credit cards declined and debit card not accepted. Sheesh! My cell phone woes continue until I go pay cash.

The rickshaw wallah piece:

Walking around with only Indian currency notes of denomination 10, 20 and higher. No small change. Rainy day, 7 pm IST, rickshaw meter display: Rs. 11. Apologetically explain to rickshaw man that have 10/ 20 and will require Rs. 9 in change. He hears change jangling in my wallet (i.e quarters, dimes, pennies etc.). Explain that I cannot transact with that kind of currency. Rickshaw man gives me withering look, grumbles loudly about losing a Rupee, shoos me out of the rickshaw. Feel embarrassed and walk away.

Another rickshaw wallah, explained to me that I have absolutely no sense of direction, on my way to a friend's pound party luncheon. I argued otherwise and told him about having lived in the locality for at least 18 years. He was not convinced, said he had not seen me in the last 6 months. Sigh!

One rickshaw wallah who was actually nice to me was an old Allahabadi man, who chattered on incessantly about the changing times and explained that, "beti..zamaana kharaab ho gaya hai" (“daughter, these are bad times”). Faced with the same change trouble while getting off. I allowed him to keep the change for fear of making another enemy in the rickshaw wallah community. He blessed me and said that I'd have a wonderful day.

The eve-teaser:

Was running an errand in the locality. A man who looked at least 45-50 years old passed a cheap comment. I bristled with anger and uncharacteristically turned back, walked up to the man and told him in Hindi, “Out of respect for your age, I am not going to say this rudely, but, please talk with a little more decency." He said “Sorry Madam". I felt good and surprised at myself. I know that 6 months ago, I would have ignored the comment and walked on in embarrassment. I feel empowered!

Lighter wallet

I got myself expensive rain shoes from Catwalk. For the rains, for sloshing around in Mumbai type potholed roads - Rs 900. Insane freaking idiot! Still, love the damn shoes.

 

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—About our writer:

Harini Sethuraman says,
"I see myself as a myopic, wandering gypsy who indulges in people watching, reading and eating good food. I write, when roused by the clutter in my head. Other than that, I am just a regular gabby, shopaholic, and nagging wife!"