Talking the walk…

After a good, strong cup of morning coffee, my husband and I walk around our building which is three storeys high with 20 residential flats....

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After a good, strong cup of morning coffee, my husband and I walk around our building which is three storeys high with 20 residential flats. A walk around it takes precisely two minutes. Our doctor’s prescription is a daily 40-minute walk, so we go round the building 20 times.

The morning is cool and fresh by Chennai standards. As we walk, a plastic bag wafts across our path. “You must get the residents to separate their garbage. A bin for organic waste and another for plastic,” I suggest to my husband. He is the president of the residents’ association. We have no problems apart from the problems of the association.

“You are obsessed with garbage,” he shoots back. “Why don’t you get the women to do it?” I told him that I had already done so, that all of them had heard me out with a lot of interest and praised the suggestion.

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“And then?” asks my husband. No one bothered to act on it, I had to admit.

A resident passes without so much as a good morning. “Why is he upset with you?” I ask. My husband reveals that the man had not paid his maintenance charges for the last three months and is obviously feeling guilty.

“Put his name up on the notice board as a defaulter,” I suggest.

“Can’t do that,” my husband says. “He has promised to pay up. Let’s see. Besides, there is another man who has refused to pay altogether. I don’t know what to do with him.”

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How about taking him to court, I suggest. The suggestion was dismissed out of hand. “It will take years and years to get resolved,” he snaps.

The conversation then goes on to maintenance charges. I tell him that people felt they were too high. “Let them have a look at the accounts and see what the other buildings are charging,” the husband fumes.

“And then there is the issue of water. Residents want water to be released all day and night. Your decision to release water only in the morning has caused a lot of disquiet,” I say.

“If I were to release water day and night there will not be enough even if we buy a tanker-load every day. A tanker now costs Rs 800 for 8,000 litres. The bill will come up to Rs 24,000 a month. Maintenance charges will shoot up. Then what?” asks my husband, very irate now.

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“There are other problems like the night watchman who sleeps during the night and the day watchman who dozes during the day and…” I go on.

“I’m resigning. I’m fed up with all these complaints. Let someone else take over the administration of the building,” shouts my husband. Our 20 rounds had come to an end.

It was so tough managing a building I wondered to myself how our poor PM manages the nation!