Reality Me

I was ready. Introspection, here I come.

Half an hour into the day, and my inner voice seemed to be — was this possible? — whining back at me. This turned out to only be the dog scratching at the door, asking to be let in. Sigh. I climbed out of bed. No harm in some furry loving care while engaged in contemplation. No sooner had I settled back than the animal wanted to be let out again. This happened again and again. Finally, I hurled some choice abuse at the creature that some may see as racist (doggist?). I called him what Danielle did Shilpa on Celebrity Big Brother: a dog.

Okay, so introspection wasn’t meant to be easy, it needs patience. This proved easier said than done. The door seemed to have a life of its own. The maid was drawn to the room like a magnet to keep the newspapers in their ‘proper’ place. She wanted to know if I wanted tea, just when I was in the midst of watching Big B and family conduct the latest round of temple touring, annoyingly making me miss a rare sasur-bahu reality drama moment.

My mother then decided to use my day off to clear my wardrobe and I was subjected to lectures on the importance of wearing high-heeled shoes, the shocking state of my jeans and, really, how tiny my clothes were when I was slimmer (gee, thanks). When she marched into the room again with the air of a general going to war — this time to discuss my tax returns — I exploded with the passion of Rakhi Sawant when she’s sure the camera is on her. “Oh for God’s sake, is there never any peace in this house?” My mother calmly replied, with the smug superiority of Shilpa Shetty getting back at Jade Goodie, that I was becoming far too reclusive. “Mom,” I sighed, “You are looking at me with a cultural bias.” Issues with anger, an abusive nature and cultural/class biases are distinct from race bias, bigotry and mental illness, didn’t she know?

As you may have guessed, we’re all up for eviction. Including the dog.