Maid Files

 

“ I need four Sundays off and maybe another four days if I need them,” the large red Bindi looked at me aggressively. “Before you say anything, I shall mop the floor every alternate day and for lunch I need at least one veg dish and dal along with roti,” the rasping voice continued its monologue. My feeble attempts to interrupt were swept aside with a flick of the hand…

The lift man who had deigned to bring in the house help nodded approvingly at both of us, as if all had been settled!

“ My salary will be twenty thousand along with double salary on Diwali,” she continued.

“Why do you need so many holidays?” I asked meekly (my mistake!)

“I need time to visit my children and grandchildren, my brothers and sisters and I have a social life too!” she grinned at me wolfishly.

I was terrified.

“Will let you know,” I mumbled while ushering them out of the door.

“Jaldi bolna (tell me soon),” she barked, “I have many people wanting my services.”

I closed the door, leaned on it (I thought she would push back in!) and took a deep breath and looked out at the beautiful view from my balcony.

“Hope you are not planning on keeping her!” Lord and Master stated.

Having had an angel for a house help for the last eight years in our last home, I had not considered that finding another one would be a challenge. I had hoped that she would move along with us, but it was too far away from her family and friends to come here. With a heavy heart I had decided I would need a new person and with that to train them in my ideocratic methods of housekeeping!

COVID had made another change in my life I had a house husband to cope with now! After thirty years I need not ask , “When are you coming home today?” or “Will your trip be extended?” or “why didn’t you tell me you are not there for dinner!”. It was fun – didn’t have to get up early in the morning, didn’t have to worry about dinner (though I did have to plan lunch!), could go out whenever I wanted (COVID permitting) and didn’t have to wait for weekends to go shopping. L&M (Lord and master) helped a lot around the house- cooked, made tea, even micromanaged the maid (who did not miss grumbling about him to me). He also filled the sink with interminable dishes, complained about the maid and shut the study for hours (Work from home!)

So here he was, in our new home already stepping into the forbidden territory of hiring the house help. Though irritated at first, I realised he would spend equal time with her around the house so the “chemistry" should be good there.

The house was still being done up, so I could afford to ignore the frantic calls from “Red Bindi” and the lift man. I hoped that once I shifted in, I would conduct all the interviews and find my “angel of mercy.”

Having braced myself for confrontation, I informed the liftman that I would not be employing his friend. I was harangued by the great Madam for at least three days with  lot of negotiating factors ( wont take so many leaves, can have rice instead of roti, will mop the floor daily etc.). I realised I had burnt my bridges as far as the liftman was concerned.

The next person contacted was the housekeeping in charge of the apartment. He sent a house help immediately.

I had been doing all the housework for the last week, so I just took this one in.

“I like my tea with only milk,” “After lunch I need to rest” and  “why do you need to sleep after lunch?” were all taken in my stride. The first couple of days went by with lots of protests regarding my housekeeping methods from the “I -hoped-to- be-the- angle!"

The entire day was punctuated with “Madam come here, this is not working!” or “Madam how does one open the tap?” To say I was harried and hassled would be an understatement! After lunch she took to sitting on MY easy chair in the balcony and looking blankly at the rain falling. Thankfully, she did not turn up one day and said that she was ill and did not come for the next five days (Ganesh puja days!) and I had the perfect reason to sack her.

Back to scrubbing and cleaning (thank God for the dish washer and the washing machine!) ( L&M was a great emotional and physical help too). Sending out feelers for the third time…….

Nicely draped in a smart sari with dangling earrings, the dusky beauty came in spewing honey and sweetness. I did not hesitate, told her to come right away. In two days flat she had got the hang of what I wanted; listening to her sob story of how her husband had lost his job of fifteen years due to COVID, how this was the first time she had come out of the house to work, she had three children to clothe and feed, I did not quibble when she wanted a couple of my dresses (“Its so difficult to work in a sari!”). I threw in a set of bangles, some purses, and nighties too.

I was supposed to go on a long trip leaving L&M at home so I felt he would be well looked after in my absence. I was at the airport when I got the message that “Our lady” had not turned up. On the phone , “ My son was unwell, I will definitely go tomorrow.”

For the next three months the excuses varied from, “Madam! I am not well” to “Madam I have to go for the vaccine” to “Madam I need to go for the parent teacher meeting,” (though her husband was without a job and sitting at home!) to “Madam I need a break.” I was gullible enough to be taken in. but then there is that ‘ last straw that breaks the camel’s back’, and I had to, albeit reluctantly, let her go.

I was again travelling when L&M started taking interviews and updating me on them. One was very good, but she could come only at twelve. The other one worked in three houses so could come at seven in the morning or at one in the afternoon and so on. All of them energetic and young but each had their own baggage, and I was coming home to another maid less existence. The latest one has survived for the last three weeks… lets hope the chemistry between us is good and she lasts longer than the others. (touch wood)

 I keep repeating “I miss Manisha!” ( my last angle), “She spoilt me so, that I cannot find anyone to replace her”. ( forgetting that it took me two whole years to train her!)

So its back to the grindstone, polishing the rough edges, pampering and being strict alternately (For AC is better than DC!) I don’t know whether we Indians will ever be self sufficient enough to survive without these angles of mercy, but I do know how important they are to my peace of mind!

God Save the House helps!

 

 

 

 

 

Crystal Clear

 

The crystal cabinet had been beckoning me for the last six months! it had become so dusty that I refrained from putting on the display light, lest its accusative eyes turned in my direction!

My grandmother boasted of a crockery cabinet which housed a dinner set , tea set and other cutlery which were I believe used during the British Raj. They were used only when the British boss of my grandfather came for dinner! (Snobs!). Well, I had never seen them being used during my time spent with Granny; but I did hear a lot of stories associated with them. How Mrs. Rogers loved to have tea with her pinkie up as she picked up the teacup, or how the cake display tiered plates were loaded with special cakes with icing and the children were not allowed to touch them till after the guests had left! The crystal wine glasses, and the tiny liqueur shot glasses sparkled and caught my eye whenever they were washed and lovingly put back. Sometimes I did wonder why this was done with religious regularity when they were never used!

As my grandmother and I both got older, the cabinet was forgotten and relegated in the backroom with old books and many curios. It was too difficult to keep them dust free outside! Anyway there were no visitors who appreciated them so why go to all that effort. I didn’t miss them much either, my only interest were books and there were plenty of them outside.

I grew up and began setting up my own house. Whenever I got the little bit of extra money, I would buy crystal show pieces to put around the house. While I lived in Alexandria for a couple of years, I was never able to resist a visit to the crystal factory and went on adding to my collection. When the travel bug bit me and I travelled to many countries, my only indulgence there were fridge magnets and crystal show pieces.

Soon the fridge did not have any space for the magnets, so I stuck them on any metal board (read the electricity board!) I found. My crystals of course got a new house and they sparkled and glinted under the spotlights. Each of them have a story associated with them as do the fridge magnets. Though my crystal glasses and crockery still lay in cabinets without being displayed, but unlike my granny, I use them whenever I have a chance.  

Never did I ever let the maids or anyone else touch my artifacts. Once in two months I would take each piece out carefully and clean and wipe them while I reminiscence on the place where I got them from. If anyone was around (read my children) I would insist on telling them about it; sometimes forgetting that I might have already told them before!

Here I was all alone- the children leading their respective lives and the lord and master on a work trip. The sun had set, and I reluctantly left the balcony and came in to watch something on TV. I swear my back was to the crystal cabinet.

“Hey! Hello Madam!”

I looked all around the room and muted the TV. Walked out and peeped into the neighbour’s balcony- it was pitch dark and not a sound was peeping through. Thinking I must have imagined it I unmuted  the TV and continued browsing through what I would like to see.

“Don’t you think you have run out of excuses?” the anger and irritation in the words were palpable.

A ghost in my new house? Or was it someone playing a prank?

There are four apartments on the floor and the only one occupied was ours. It could be someone from downstairs; but what excuses were they talking about?

I opened the front door and peeped outside the safety door. Nobody there! Shutting the door I turned back, and I saw the dust filled crystal cabinet lit up and looking at me with exasperation.

All the excuses- ill health, no time, travelling, more important things to do…. the list was endless, but I had actually run out of them!

I put on the apron and began the ritual. As I cleaned each piece to its glittering glory the memories tumbled over each other and filled me with happiness. True there was no one to share my recollections but I pottered about happily, filling my metal minds ( read the ‘Mist born’ series to understand!) with happiness, which I hope I can retrieve and use when the world is bleak.

Now the fridge looks at me accusatively as it remains unadorned in its new position in the new house….

I do wonder who put the spotlights on!

 

HOPE

The world has gone around the sun once more. In all my fifty plus years I have never had to face such a turbulent year. My emotions, health status, and metabolism, all followed the transverse wave pattern. The crest and trough were as far apart as it is humanly possible!

They said that when Pandora let open the Pithoi (Box in Greek) left in her care, all the evils of the present world which were entrapped in it escaped; though she tried to close the box it was too late and only one thing -“Hope” was let out to control the maleficence of her act.  By the middle of the year I had no energy or inclination to believe that there are any ups in life. Hope refused to come into my line of control!

COVID destroyed my faith in resurgence ; malaise and weakness enveloped me in its cocoon, and I was content to wallow in the warmth of the care, my family gave me. I think I completed the quota of sleep that I had lost out on during my student days and bringing up my baby days! Eat-sleep- eat- repeat became the pattern of my life. My mother’s passing away, twice being admitted to a hospital and the gloomy forecast did not help my cause. I chose to ignore the positives –my daughter’s wedding, that I survived COVID and our moving into our own home.

I lay watching the lovely scene outside the bedroom window. The rain had made everything green, the small hamlet filled with cottages with their red roofs, the rain swallows piping merrily and swooping in and out of the clouds brightened my days.

Slowly I moved into the balcony which gave me a magnificent view of my beloved mountains draped with black and white clouds. The early mornings and late afternoons were graced by the glorious sun; the night sky was adorned with the twinkling stars and the phases of the moon.

Suddenly energy leaped and strove to escape my mind and I got busy doing up the house. I forgot the resurgence of energy was only in my mind and I collapsed again! “Hope” did not have a chance! Back into the trough I went.

The new year came and went . I knew I had to push back this cloak of darkness and look at the new sunrise if I were to get back even a semblance of normalcy.

The new adult in our family was around, behaving like a child. Pointing out the loveliness of the scenery and underlining my luck. Both she and the lord of the house had taken over the reins of house running and their comic moments lightened my mood.

One day I heard the bleating of the goats in the background. I was deeply ensconced in my game, and I doubt if I would have registered it if the Young Adult had not forced me to come and look down at the ground below. There were hundreds of goats crossing in front of our apartment to move to (what I presume) a fresh grazing field. The whole lot were controlled by a young youth with a stick in his hand. What made him able? What made the goats listen to him? What made both to cross over to the unknown realm?

I believe it was ‘Faith’, that life will take care of the strays, that the power beyond our comprehension will lead us on to greener pastures and the circle of existence will guide us from darkness to light. My ‘faith then pulled out ‘hope’ from the murky depths of events and I went on to grow like the creepers towards sunlight and positivity.

Now as I still rest on the moss encompassed mind, I feel the warmth of love, hope and compassion lead me on to a rainbow land and hope that I can once again lead a busy and eventful life.

So do you believe that faith and hope triumph against all odds?

Lockdown Screen Time

Beyond the trillion Zoom conferences that dot my COVID-19 lockdown, I have another lot of activities that keep me so busy that I have fallen ill twice in the past sixty days!

The first week without the maid was fun. (I love cleaning) With ample help from a house-bound husband and daughter who took care of the heavy duty cleaning, I scrubbed corners, cleaned cupboard tops and used all the ‘You tube’ cleaning hacks possible.

The next week made me traverse the insides of each cupboard, the bookshelves (with lots of nostalgic swamping when I looked at my twenty year old self’s notations on the margins) and bathroom cleaning.

 The third week of course laid me low for three days (Every bone and sinew aching). I was warned by the whole family (specially the doctor via video chat) that I cannot and should not overexert myself. I nodded with pitiful affirmatives and resumed my duties slowly.

The week that followed the lockdown under the lockdown made me sit on my comfortable chair watching Netflix and Prime Video. All the games that I had downloaded on the I-Pad were begging me to indulge them, so my screen time increased from four hours to six hours (lots of admonishment from the lord and master!) then I had to indulge in my voyeurism- all the social media scrolling!

Facebook was of course filled with birthdays and anniversaries and the many stories which can be understood only by the one who posts them! It also had the occasional Instagram posts.

I prefer looking at the Instagram posts on its own app, so off I go, clicking on the link and moving to another world. Here I am offered a number of culinary delights. The world and his wife have taken to cooking the most delicious dishes on the face of the earth and posting them on Instagram. Even the videos posted are no longer dominated by Nature’s beauty, we see the most delicious samosas, casserole, cakes, puddings, rasgollas…. I really cannot tabulate all of them here! New channels have come up from wanna-be cooks and all the housewives who have husbands wielding the video camera! Sadly, the cooking channels that I follow have been relegated to the backseat. It is so much better to see the normal kitchen in the background rather than the uber-efficient ones of the celebrities.

Though not a great cook, I have been feeding my family for over thirty years, so I jumped onto the bandwagon and made my share of rasmalais, jelabis and even pedas. The usual panipuris, rava dosas, idlis and poha were put in attractive dishes, photos were taken with the right amount of lighting but after the deluge of foodography I decided wisely against putting up my pretty pictures.

But the cutest deluge has come from new mommies! I noticed a certain age group of my erstwhile students were turning into new mothers. Lots of cutie quotes (specially as Mother’s Day has just gone by), cuddly babies and adorable new grannies fought for space on my app. The ones without babies put up their doggie instas and successfully captured my attention.

Next of course is Twitter. What then are the birds doing these days? Well, we have the usual political bashers, the fight between the pros and antis. Then of course the statistics of Coronavirus- how many infected, how many dead, which countries and in India which states. Possibility of economic suicide versus own suicide! “My country is worse than yours”, “My leader  is worse than yours” and the best are the NRIs who live in their comfortable lives saying how wonderful India is notwithstanding the miserable level to which the poor have gone to! Here too, I do not dare to offer my own views in the fear of being arrested (One young man was thrown into jail for daring to criticize the All Mighty one (and I do not mean God))

I am not a member of TikTok so I cannot post my dancing videos (I can hear all of you sighing with relief). The news channels say the same thing and I was getting tired of being in front of a screen for almost all my waking hours. So what do I do next?

Feeling as strong as Hercules, I tossed caution to the winds and was back to all my naughty and secretive escapades, namely ‘cleaning spree’. The family members were busy doing their own things, so I got away unnoticed! My stove started sparkling, the kitchen counters were spick and span, all the stuff from the supermarket were put in their rightful places rather than lying about like abandoned puppies and the washer and drier sparkled with happiness with all the love and care I lavished on them.

It was not surprising that on a day when I chose to cook three whole meals, clean four bathrooms, and do the laundry, that my more than half a century old body collapsed, and I was back in bed!

Older and wiser, now I have decided not to trust my adrenalin spiked brain and do my work in moderation.

So two months of lockdown, two collapses, a million food videos, and a trying-to-be-sensible, old but young at heart person is looking forward to a COVID less world where she can do what she loves the most – Travel!

Que sera sera what will be will be…

Jasmine’s Aladdin

“I won’t be silenced
You can’t keep me quiet
Won’t tremble when you try it
All I know is I won’t go speechless”

Who doesn’t know the story of Aladdin? I have read Aladdin at least thrice; played the game innumerable times; watched the Disney movie at least once and before I talk about the latest, I had the privilege to watch a performance in the theatre a couple of years back. This was an entirely different and wonderful excitement. Imagine watching the actors performing live before you and singing the song on stage whilst doing all the action that is an intrinsic part of the story! When I look back at it, I am filled with wonder at the stage settings and the special effects that were created to transport us into another world.

Today I am talking of another magical experience. I watched the latest Aladdin movie based on the Disney story. Obviously a musical, it makes our imagination go on a roller coaster ride along with the lead characters. Such a simple story line yet what a lot it has to say!

We have the clear good and the bad characters(Of course Aladdin steals and tells lies but these are accepted grey areas of goodness); we also have the incidents growing progressively towards the climax of a huge battle; the natural movement of the evil overpowering goodness and then getting reckless with the power and strength of invincibility is very well crafted. Even though you know who will win, the moment you enter the world of Agrabah you are again the puny human tossed in the waves of uncertainty. So there we are sitting at the edge of the seats praying that Aladdin wins. Then of course innocence wins, and we go home happy and satisfied.

How then does the narrative offer us something new? The most famous song ‘A whole new world’ of course is a timeless classic :

“..I’ve come so far
I can't go back to where I used to be”

How well it mirrors each of our lives! How many times have we tried to go back to that space where we were the happiest but are never able to recapture the magic? The romance embedded in the lines:

“...a thrilling chase
a wondrous place
for you and me”

Makes even the heart of an ancient person palpitate with the thrill of first love. I believe that the success of Aladdin over the years is because it touches the intrinsic core within an individual and mirrors some facet or the other that is lying dormant within us.

Though not authenticated it is supposed to be a part of the thousand and one tales of Arabic origin but it is largely attributed to Antoine Galland the French translator in the eighteenth century.

What strikes one is the fact that Princess Jasmine lived in a world where women had no rights, yet over the years in different settings we are introduced to her as an independent woman with a stubbornness of getting her own way. She refuses to be only seen (as an object of beauty) and demands that she be heard. So we have a millennial Jasmine, independent, stubborn, ambitious and combat ready. She refuses to be “speechless” and demands justice even in face of the oppressive power of Jaffar.

Jasmine does not cry and berate her fate as she is captured, instead she chooses to be a lawyer and turns into an advocate for the people of Agrabah. Pleading with Hakim( head of the royal guards) to judge the correctness of the law that makes him bow before Jaffar.

The ending is also very daring and new as she takes up the mantle of being a Sultan and ‘arrests’ Aladdin for being a thief, to presumably take over his life completely.

The magic continues… the wonderful genie; the magic carpet; Abu and the cave of wonders all lend their enchantment towards the world of Aladdin. The negative energy of Jaffar and Iago create the obstacles without which this tale would not be turbulent and filled with excitement as it moves from point to point. It makes us jump over the rooftops of Agrabah with the foot tapping beats of Aladdin’s lunges, jumps, swings and somersaults!

So a new take on an old tale; an empowered woman; a millennial man; a kind genie and the proverbial ogre Jaffar; all the trappings of a modern fairy tale. There is plenty to learn; each of the songs open our eyes to truths with a humorous twist and makes us want to go back into this celluloid dream.

 

  

Never got the GOT!

The other day I saw a post on Facebook which said that ‘if you have never watched a single episode of The Game of Thrones than click on the link below’.

“Should I click on it”, I wondered. I recently found out that GOT was first aired in 2010, so I looked back at my 2010; it had been an exciting year for me, but I do not remember hearing about this series. My children were then teenagers and they should have told me about it (I must remember to ask them whether they did let me know). The first that I became conscious of it was in 2013 when my then ‘terrible teenager’ would slouch on the sofa and stream it online on her laptop.

 I would sometime peep over her shoulder and see a lot of black, brown and blue graphics, so I never was interested! (I love the colourful ‘Rangeela” kind of pictures!). Once in a while I heard the sisters discussing it over the phone. I am not a suspicious mother, but what struck me every time they spoke was whether somebody would die. This further distanced me from even attempting to see one episode!

I have plenty of people on Facebook who love to discuss the GOT and obviously I skip over these posts. As I have a husband who is the least interested in TV serials, I did not get any knowledge from him either. The doctor in the family is very kind to me; she specifically informs me about new TV serials, the trending things on youtube videos, the latest Netflix and Prime video offerings. So I don’t feel too left out by the millennial generation. But she never discussed this with me either. I was sometimes tempted to start seeing it but all the comments regarding the episodes pulled me back .

As the younger one (TT) left her teens she continued to watch this and discuss this with her sister but neither of them attempted to persuade me to do so. In fact I remember clearly that one or both of them made me watch “Stranger Things”. This was also an uncomfortable serial with a lot of blue, black and brown colours, filled with eerie and strange things but I watched both seasons. I was under extreme discomfort, but I was fascinated by it and in my own way, loved it (I remember binge watching it too!).

Fantasy is fascinating for me; I love magic and ‘other dimensional’ narratives, hence an obsession with the Harry Potter series. Why then did I not get the GOT? Frankly I have no answer. Maybe it was the whispers about sex and violence and the mandatory death after each episode which put me off. Could be that I love to relax when I watch a movies and silent murmurs told me otherwise. Possibility of age catching up was also there (though I believe that a majority of the fans are as old if not older than me).

I believe the last season is just over and that is what made me curious about it. I, of course went to my favourite library “Google” and did a little reading. I was surprised to find that it had won a number of awards. Maybe another reason why I did not sidle into watching it! I very adroitly avoid watching Award winning movies ( I can see the eyebrows reaching the ceilings by now!). I also believe that it has a humongous cast which again could confuse my little brain!

Many of my friends do doubt my sensibilities when it comes to movies! Once I had praised a movie sky-high; the hounding response I got for my admiration, put me off ever trying to write a movie review!

So here I am feeling a little lost and talking about The GOT without having watched even half an episode! I do not understand the hoo-hah over it and do not even want to. Does that make me passé?

You tell me! I have stopped watching Hindi TV serials for the last ten years, so I am a misfit when I go to parties, specially the Ladies ones; now I will certainly be an oddity in any kind of gathering as I do not have an iota of information to contribute to  a discussion on the GOT!

Where have all the colours gone?

Having been a Jeans and t-shirt person all through my young life, I had gone berserk in the year after I got married. I wore all the feminine Indian clothes- brightly coloured with matching jewellery and bangles to boot! And Boy! Had I enjoyed myself! Green, purple, orange all the possible loud colours had suddenly become my favourite. Of course over the years I have mellowed and refrain from wearing too bright a colour. But give me a chance (A wedding or a festival) I am back, wallowing in the multiple hues of life.

“Hey! Isn’t that a lovely shade of black”, said the twenty something to her pal beside her.

“That’s good”, agreed the pal, “but you should have seen the black Sheena was wearing yesterday! it was to die for”.

These days I am like R.K.Laxman’s “Common man”, I am here , there and everywhere with a bag over my shoulder; a very silent spectator of the drama of life. If I could draw, I would be another famous cartoonist.

Listening to the above conversation, I wondered what were the shades of black? Of course I had heard of this book called the “Fifty shades of grey” but shades of black was what I had not heard of. When in doubt Google is my mantra. Sure enough Wikipedia had seventeen different shades of black listed!

For a change I tried to be “in the moment” and started looking around and noticing all the young people who  were crowded in and outside the fast food restaurant, smoking, having tea or coffee or some junk food or the other. The young men (I was pleasantly surprised) were quite nattily dressed and most of them looked healthy and well built (the gym effect?) The girls were a different story, fifty percent of them were overweight, the other fifty percent were a mixture of toned bodies, normal bodies, anorexic bodies and normal skinny ones.

Whether it was “the black conversation” I overheard or the general gloominess in the political scenario, I saw that the bottom half of  all the girls were black. Most of them wore black leggings, some wore the very popular jeggings, many had on the formal trousers (There are many offices in the vicinity) and a miniscule few had churidars on.  So if you were to be polite and not stare, you would focus on the bottom half, right? Well there was a virtual sea of black, weaving in and out on the grey asphalt! I must have seen this before, but I had never been conscious of this fact.

Can you picture what I saw? Black sea with smoke rising from within it! The smoke could be the cigarettes or from the steaming cups of tea and coffee. Whatever it was, my world looked a little drab and forlorn. As I swept my eyes surreptitiously from ground zero to an altitude of five feet plus, I noticed the tops were either different shades of white( Check it out on google) or blue or pink. Where I wondered had the greens, purples, oranges or even the  bright yellow gone?

I did not look at the men, they anyway never had a great colour palette, it was the girls I was inspecting. Where had all the feminine love for bright hues gone? Why were they all following a uniform code of conduct for dressing? Agreed black makes you look slimmer, so I understood the penchant for bottom halves being black but what about the top half? Don’t we women always want to stand out? Be different from the others? Why if a film actress wears a dress which is even two percent similar to another actress’s dress the tabloids go crazy putting up the two pictures and pointing out the similarities! Fortunately I have cut off our cable Television otherwise all the news channels would be airing the same picture again and again!

Now that I had become conscious of the new fad, my eyes went on searching for a different picture in various backgrounds. The next time I went to the Mall I looked discerningly at the crowd. In the food court it was all dark under the table! I also noticed that three new brands of leggings had set up shop in different parts of the mall.

Out of curiosity I went into my favourite one “Go Colours” and asked them what colour had the highest sale. The answer was not much of a surprise- it was black of course! I then asked them about the different shades of black and they were very aware of it. (I felt such a dodo!)

“Why do you have such a wonderful display of rainbow colour leggings, jeggings and what not?”, I asked inquisitively.

The salesman had the patience of a saint, he said, “That is for display, it attracts customers”.

“But there are very few blacks?”, I objected.

“Madam we have a store room at the back filled with them. They do not look good on display, so we do not put them out”, the salesman said dismissively.

Having learnt a valuable lesson, I realised that even though the world is turning into a colourless graveyard, the human mind is still alive. Why do I say that? Well as long as the hoardings and displays depend on colours to attract customers then all is right with the world and God is in his heaven.

Maybe this is just a phase and my colours will creep back into the world like a time lapse picture of winter turning to spring!

Till it does will anyone answer my question- Where have all the colours gone?