One fine morning…

Mornings in Delhi:

Mj: *looks at the clock* Shoot! I’m gonna be late…
Me: *drag myself out of bed* Don’t worry. You won’t. What do you want for breakfast?
Mj: Whatever is the quickest.
Me: *serves breakfast* There.
Mj: Yaar.. I’m going to be late.
Meanwhile, Meer wakes up. Comes and hugs Baba.
Meer: Baba offy (office) no na!
Mj: *reluctantly tears away from the hug* I know betu…. But Baba is going to be late.
Me: Don’t worry. You’ll make it.
Mj: *looks hatefully at the overcast sky outside* Not if it starts to rain. Damn!
Meer: *yells* Baba offy noooo naaaa!

Mj, meanwhile, is already outside the door. Too far to hear Meer


Cut to over a month later…

Mornings in Unchahar:

I step on to the balcony, to find that the guava tree shadowing it, is proudly showcasing three new fruits that have ripened since last evening.

Me: *yells out to Mj* Mujtaba, three more.
Meer: *runs out ahead of Mj* Baba… Gaaba (guava)
Mj plucks out a small one and hands it to Meer who gobbles it down (I kid you not!) in less than ten seconds.
Meer: Baba… mummore gaaba (one more guava)
Mj plucks one more which meets the same fate.
Meer: Baba….mummore!
Mj: *spots some more* Golu, those two are little far off. Maybe if I jump on that *points on the tin roof of the parking shed below*
Me: Ummm … Nso way!
Mj: Come on….it will hold.
Me: No it won’t. It’s old.
Meer: *yells* Baabaaa… Mummooore!!
Mj: See he really wants it!
Me: I can see that! So try something else!
Mj: Kya yaar… Beta, your mumma isn’t as adventurous as Baba. *frowns*
Me: I am beta… but I reserve my adventurous streak… And my bones… For things that are worth more than 20 bucks a kilo *grin to underline sarcasm*
Mj: *already deep in thought, on how to get to those guavas*
Meer: Baaabaaaaa… mummoooore!!!!
Mj: Roof! Now! *runs out*
Meer: *tails him like he is in on the plan* (Quite a Batman and Robin moment, I must add)

Up on the roof…

Mj: *leans over the ledge* Golu, grab my shirt!
Me: Have you lost it completely?!
Meer: *tugs at Mj’s pajamas* Baaabaa… mummore gaaabaaa!!
Mj: Not my pajama!!! My shirt! My shirt!!!
Me: That’s not me! That’s Meer!! Step away from the ledge!
Mj: Yaar… It’s right here. Just hold my shirt!!
Meer: Baaabaaa…

Total chaos for the next five minutes at the end of which I find Mj is holding a long iron rod, twisting its end to suit his purpose; and Meer is jumping with joy, like he knows what’s going to happen next.

Mj: Grab my shirt!!
I frown and grab the shirt, and decide to play along because, frankly I don’t want to be the only one not enjoying this.

A neighbour walks out in his courtyard…

Me: Mujtaba, people are looking….and judging, I’m sure.
Mj: Shut up and keep holding… almost there.
Me: It’s gonna rain.
Mj: Cool…keep holding.
Me: It’s too far…you’ll fall.
Mj: I can get that….I’m an Allahabadi…plucking guavas and mangoes is in my blood….
Me: Oh puhleeeesee!
Mj: Run downstairs and catch them.
Me: Arre! The neighbours (who own the courtyard) will mind
Mj: No they won’t.
Me: I would!
Meer: Baaabaaaa… Mummmmaaaa
Mj: Uff… Just go, would you!


Ten super chaotic action packed minutes, one act of trespassing on someone’s property and a bounty of a half a dozen guavas later, we’re in our room and Meer is enjoying the loot.

Me and Mj (almost in unison): Let’s do this again tomorrow! 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂


NB- This reconstruction of this morning’s episode, is primarily for “those people” who have been asking me over the last few months ‘But WHY are you moving from Delhi to Unchahar?!!’; with their wide eyes highlighting their bewilderment, which to be honest wasn’t required, because their tone and the extra stress on the word WHY already had it covered.

If you don’t find your answer in there, I have nothing more to say to you 😀



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