Hearing the doorbell, I got up and opened the front door. There, stood before me, the stereotype new neighbour: cake in hand, smile on face. What didn't go with the characteristic image, though, was the crowd of children around her. At first glance i thought i was seeing double, but when the herd (excuse my lack of respect) ran up the stairs to ransack my room, i started to believe in their number. Come in, sit down I said. Inside, I was torn between killing the children for destroying my belongings and killing her for bringing the whole party over.
The new neighbours were eleven people in all; the parents, the eight children and an old miserly-looking grandfather. I liked the oldie most because he was the only person who made a face far worse than I did every time the eight children-of-Lucifer came into his line of vision. Every afternoon, it took him 30 minutes to walk to the end of the street and back with quite difficulty. I assume he considered it his exercise. The Dad was never home so I have refrained from judging him except for his neighbourhood choices. Weekends, he came out in his least presentable clothing (saying the least) and washed his car-cum-mini-van with a pipe.
Two weeks later, The Mom and each one of the kids started showing up at our door one-by-one, asking for things. No, i am not being vague. The 'things' ranged from sugar to shampoo to ice-cubes to what not. It came up to a point where my mother and I started to believe the groceries at their place came from our contribution only. But then, we realised, they did it to every house in their vicinity. Our new motto became to say "Nahe hai!" to every item they asked for.
On Eid day, however, our motto failed. They all came barging in shouting "Eid mubarak! Eidee!" which left mom with no choice but to give in to their chants and hand out fresh, cracking hundred rupee notes.
I had had enough. I became a plotting evil master-mind. Every annoying moment became a challenge for me to overthrow them.Then, it clicked.
Once upon a very happy morning (for me), I called six different households. By 12 pm I had my team ready. Ten annoying little cousins that i cringed away from under normal circumstances were now under my wing. We marched towards the notorious neighbours' porch and I joyously rang the door-bell. As The Mom opened the door and my party ran inside, I smiled evilly and thought: let the games begin.
The new neighbours were eleven people in all; the parents, the eight children and an old miserly-looking grandfather. I liked the oldie most because he was the only person who made a face far worse than I did every time the eight children-of-Lucifer came into his line of vision. Every afternoon, it took him 30 minutes to walk to the end of the street and back with quite difficulty. I assume he considered it his exercise. The Dad was never home so I have refrained from judging him except for his neighbourhood choices. Weekends, he came out in his least presentable clothing (saying the least) and washed his car-cum-mini-van with a pipe.
Two weeks later, The Mom and each one of the kids started showing up at our door one-by-one, asking for things. No, i am not being vague. The 'things' ranged from sugar to shampoo to ice-cubes to what not. It came up to a point where my mother and I started to believe the groceries at their place came from our contribution only. But then, we realised, they did it to every house in their vicinity. Our new motto became to say "Nahe hai!" to every item they asked for.
On Eid day, however, our motto failed. They all came barging in shouting "Eid mubarak! Eidee!" which left mom with no choice but to give in to their chants and hand out fresh, cracking hundred rupee notes.
I had had enough. I became a plotting evil master-mind. Every annoying moment became a challenge for me to overthrow them.Then, it clicked.
Once upon a very happy morning (for me), I called six different households. By 12 pm I had my team ready. Ten annoying little cousins that i cringed away from under normal circumstances were now under my wing. We marched towards the notorious neighbours' porch and I joyously rang the door-bell. As The Mom opened the door and my party ran inside, I smiled evilly and thought: let the games begin.
