Love Thy Neighbour
Our first attempt at socialising starts with our neighbours, people you surely see gathering on the ground floor right after an earthquake. They are the people who should never have an idea of what you're up to, lest they tell your parents that you've been bunking classes. They are diverse and our relationship with them can ease or worsen our communal living.
We all have lived next to a house which we know is occupied, though the windows and doors are always shut. You don't see anyone entering or leaving the house, or even taking out the garbage. Call an exorcist, splash the house with holy water – that's the only logical thing to do.
Certain neighbours put you in the position of Robert Neville in the movie "I am Legend". Like the mutants, they won't acknowledge your existence. It's a relief because being a socially awkward person, I don't have to smile at them, but I really hope my phone magically rings when I share the lift in awkward silence.
Almost all neighbourhoods are living examples of modern day symbiosis. From babysitting to tutoring, our neighbours are our saviours. What's a neighbour if he/she does not borrow a cup of sugar because their guests have arrived without a notice?
The nicest neighbours are aunties who send us pitha and samosa. The smell of the biryani from their kitchen is itself a signal of what can possibly reach your home in an hour. The taste variety in naru and achar is best understood when your neighbours use their own special recipes. However, overly nice neighbours are the kind you see in movies, waving their hands at everyone. They are so super-friendly that they greet you and ask you annoying questions at every
encounter.
"Labib, what are you doing?"
"I am checking our electricity bill, uncle"
"Electricity bill? Hey, we get that stuff too."
Our neighbours paint the true picture of diversity. On Puja, we get to see candles lit, while Eid comes with plates of shemai. But when it comes to being loud, neighbours are more than a binary spectrum. Imagine prepping for an exam when you hear Potolkumar Gaanwala, and you can't believe your ears that such a name for a TV serial could exist. On the other hand, a few neighbours will probably call the police if the woman living upstairs doesn't stop grinding masala at 5 a.m.
Buas are an indispensable part of our lives. But when 5 flats start hiring the same bua, schedules can get messed up, risking friendly relations with our neighbours. These bhabi-fights will culminate with a derogatory remark about a certain family's income's legality.
We break our neighbours' windows while batting, ask them for salami on Eid, and play with the kids every afternoon. We greet them almost every day and watch cricket matches together. At the end of the day, our neighbours are an integral part of our mundane lives.
Myat Moe is an occasional philosopher whose favourite pastime is confusing people with her nationality. Reach her @145michelle@gmail.com