No Love Lost and Other Stories by Shobhaa De

Author:Shobhaa De
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: null
Publisher: S&S India
Published: 2020-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

Yesterday, that silly security guard called me ‘Maaji’. Do I look that old? Yes, these days I cover my head with a dupatta or a scarf, because Doris, my regular salon girl, is not there to come over and give me a proper hair touch up. Mind you, I spend on good hair colour and refuse to use mehendi. I may have to change Doris - she is Chinese. And these building people won’t let her enter, even after this lockdown. This is most unfair. I can also say, throw away all those Chinese goods, we are scared to get the virus which we know has come from China. But nobody is saying that! Till Doris or some other girl can come to fix my hair colour, I have to cover my head. It is bad for my fans, and my image, to be seen with white hair. I cannot recognise my own self! Such a buddhi, I suddenly look! By god - greying is not for me.

I have realised how cruel and budtameez most people are - neighbours are the worst. I may be old, but I am not deaf. I can overhear them talking in the common passage leading to the small lobby (our building is over 30 years old).

They say things like, ‘If something happens to this buddhi during the lockdown… like, if she gets corona or something, how will anybody know? Who will take care of her? She has nobody. People like her should live in old people’s homes and not in a decent co-operative housing society. It is not our problem if she falls sick. But if something happens to her, our building will get sealed. It will be called contaminated, and our property price will go down. All those municipalitywallas will arrive and start harassing us for nothing. No hospital will take her. Waisey bhi, there is such a shortage of ambulances and doctors. I wanted to shout, ‘You bloody gadhey… look after your own bloody selves. Don’t worry about me. I am taking turmeric water thrice a day and gargling with salt.’

They called this society ‘decent’. Do they know the meaning of that word? At least, the old security guard who lives under the staircase gives me more izzat. He salutes me and says, ‘Good evening, madam.’ It feels nice to be called ‘madam’ again. I feel I am back in the Film City studio which had become my second home, when I was shooting for ‘Ghar ki Baat’ - India’s craze at that time. I tip him from time to time, but if you ask me his name - sorry! I have never asked.

One young neighbor called Sapna is also good to me. She’s quite considerate, unlike most young people, who lack tameez. She offers to get me fruits and vegetables, when those vans arrive outside our compound. She says she is part of some ‘buddy’ system. Of course, I pay her the exact amount when she drops off three mangoes and

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.