The Heart of the Matter
The building that I live in is an architectural wonder. The brainchild of Golcha builders, it beckoned with the tagline ‘Live close to nature’. All around it, there were open fields and the only route from the main road to the building was a hardened sand path. A few bicycles trundled along the path while the rest walked. It was the perfect rural scenery. Such romantic notions led to an impulsive purchase that cost us not just money and but also reconciled us to nature’s vile ways.
After a year of living through a scorching summer, monsoon flooding and bone chilling winter, we realized the house was designed to let the weather get the better of us. The year-round load shedding added to our woes. The next year, we gave the house several cosmetic makeovers such as window sheds, wall cupboards, tiling and painting, to name a few. There were no attics as we found out later and sound proofing had been left to our discretion.
Over the years, such major oversights by the builder became minor inconveniences to me.The long walks in the open fields with my dogs more than made up for it. Monsoons offered a magical view from my window that hung above a garden. I’d stare out into the space, sipping coffee, my imagination running amok with pixies, elves and leprechauns while angry rains lashed against the window. Winters were spent cuddling under the blanket with my cats and hibernating for the most part.
Pests or pets?
