George Carlin once described a house as ‘a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get more stuff.’
Did we really need a house? A cave had a roof but it didn’t have an almirah or an attic to store old fans that don’t run.
Houses have basically become storage spaces that contain more storage spaces. Those storage spaces have clothes. The clothes have storage spaces called pockets. Inside the pockets we keep a wallet, which is another storage space with even more compartments. Then we have secret pockets and lockers, just in case we suddenly decide to go incognito.
I recently went through all the pockets and storage spaces in my house and realised there are things I’ll never use, even in the worst of times. Yet somehow they’ve become sacred and can’t be thrown away.
The moment you step into the house, you’ll probably see fake plants. I have never understood fake plants. We are living through an environmental crisis, yet we choose to use clean drinking water to wipe dust off plastic leaves instead of watering an actual plant.
I also feel sorry for bees. Imagine flying around all day looking for flowers only to discover plastic after plastic. By the third fake plant, the poor bee must be wondering whether it needs therapy or shilajit. You’re making a bee question its life purpose.
It’s a showpiece. You bought it because it looks good. But what exactly are you trying to show? I have never gone to someone’s house, nor has anyone come to mine and said, ‘Wow, what a beautiful plastic rose. Must be an evergreen variety. I saw it here last year too.’
You don’t get compliments. It doesn’t give you oxygen. You know it’s useless, yet you’re somehow afraid the garbage collector will judge you for throwing it away.
If it were up to me, I’d throw away every clock in the house. But somebody gifted that clock, so now we have to keep it forever.
Phones with screens came along and we’ve never looked up again. When was the last time you genuinely needed to know the time and thought, ‘For a change, let me look at the wall clock.’ Never.
We only change the battery when a festival is coming or guests are expected. Then we let the battery drain again until the clock quietly changes time zones on its own. Every few months it becomes a fun little game. Which country is my clock in today?
People say a broken clock shows the correct time twice a day. But to verify that, you first have to look at your phone and then immediately check the clock. At that point, the phone has already won.
Still, I can’t throw it away because it was a gift.
We exchange our phones or lose them and buy new ones, but the chargers are never thrown away.
Every Indian house has one drawer dedicated entirely to dead chargers and unidentified cables.
Nothing inside belongs to any device currently owned by the family.
Yet every six months someone opens the drawer with fresh optimism.
‘Try this charger.’
‘It might work.’
It never works. So instead of throwing it away, we quietly put it back. Maybe one day it’ll turn into fossil fuel. That’s the level of hope we’re operating on.
The list is endless.
Mementos. Because you attended an event, somebody carved a wooden Charminar and presented it to you. Now it’s just standing there in your showcase.
It makes sense if you’ve moved to Jammu and Kashmir and want a reminder of Hyderabad.
But if you’re already living in Hyderabad, there are already two Charminars. One real and one at Hitex.
Why do you need a third one at home, just in case somebody asks, ‘What’s a Charminar?’
The list really is endless.
Greeting cards.
Christmas stars.
Balloons.
A house filled with things that serve no purpose, yet somehow occupy the best real estate in the home.
If anything, they’re the biggest beneficiaries of rising rents.
Sandesh
@msgfromsandesh
(This comedian is here to tell funny stories about Hyderabad)
(The writer’s views are his own)