Blouse "bit" racket

One time-tested tradition that hasn't changed in Chennai is that  when you go to someone's house, you always walk away with a blouse bit. About 15-20 years ago, this was actually a good thing. I've seen my mom stitch blouses from all the various pieces she got from neighbors, relatives and friends. Sarees were simple back then, didn't have "attached" blouse material, colors were straight forward and blouse pieces were always of the 2x2 variety. Everyone was happy.

Fast forward to 2010 and there's a mind-boggling variety of saris and blouse materials. Most saris have the blouse material attached and women are picky about their blouse materials, colors etc..So, when you get a blouse piece as a gift from someone, most women don't know what to do with it. They've got blouses for all their saris. What do we do?

So, we recycle, re-gift and evolve gifting blouse materials into a fine art form..:) I realized the Great Hierarchy of Gifting Blouse Material during the last India trip. I was asked to go fetch a material to gift a visiting mami. I rummaged through the cupboard and picked whichever one came to hand. Big mistake. That's when I received the lecture of how "it is done". You see, there are hierarchies -- silk cotton for people you like, pure silk for people you don't really like but there's no other way out, regular cotton for people of no importance, 2x2 for someone you like well enough, fancy blouse bits with embroidery and mirror work for youngsters and so on…Oh, and you can't re-gift a material that someone might recognize as having been given at another house etc..

Anyway, I tried refusing blouse pieces at a couple of houses I visited. I said I had no use for them in the US. Who would stitch them for me there? And I didn't have time to get it stitched in India. This argument, most often, is met with glares and annoyance. So, I meekly started gathering a pile of these things and silently handed it over to my mom for safe, hierarchical re-gifting..:)

Gandhi-giri : Munnabhai style

On a much-despised Monday morning, when one's rushing to work, muttering and cursing on self's lack of ability to wake up early, the last thing one wants to see on the outside panel of the door is a long, trailing, splotch of someone's saliva a.k.a spit.

I happened to witness this wonderful sight last week as I was locking my door. Aha! I was indignant. I wasn't going to have to clean up someone's spit ??! But when stuff happens on one's premises with none claiming responsibility, there's nothing much one can do except clean up the mess. Never mind that it is someone else's mess. That evening, I dutifully took a cleaner and scrubbed the offending sight from my door. I sprayed some disinfectant for added effect.

Next morning, I step out the door and there it is again: the same old splotch on a different spot on the door! I had my suspicion on the two wild things in my opposite apartment. So, what did I do? Did I go and knock boldly on their door and deliver a stinging slap for their unmannerly behavior? Unfortunately, no. I decided to do Gandhi-giri.

I dutifully took the cleaner and went to work again. The next day, I was relieved to see no spit on my door but when I inserted my key into the lock, it didn't go in. After several seconds of jiggling the key around, I finally locked the door. And now, the key refused to come out! I had to pull with all my strength until I tottered over backwards. Someone seemed to have tampered with the door lock. Sigh.

After putting up with more of this nonsense for a week, I figured I'd to do something. So I went to the apartment office this morning and lodged a complaint to fix the lock. The apartment guy urged me to go ahead and file a complaint against the suspects. But I've desisted for the time being.

Lest some of you might think that I am some enlightened soul, I did it out of sheer helplessness..:) There's no way that puny me is going to stand up to two strapping, drunken men. And if tomorrow, these guys decide to vomit on my door, its me that has to clean that up too!

It is at epiphanic moments like these that you realize why Gandhi chose "ahimsa". At times, there's just no other way! Oh and by the way, I am halfway through Gandhi's "My Experiments with Truth". Serendipity? Gandhiji, if you're watching this, I'd like some brownie points please!:)