Tag: family

What’s the Point of Buying a House?

house.jpg

For people in my parents’ age, buying a house — or building one — is the ultimate goal. Life had a basic structure: education, job, house, EMI, marriage, EMI, kids, EMI, kids’ education, and (phew) retiring into the house they built all those EMIs ago.

By the time they move into their home, they’d have grown too old to climb the spiral stairs they’d so wanted. Sure, it would’ve looked sexy in movies or when Holmes darted up a stairwell with Watson at his heels, but the knee ache would be just too real.

It’s funny how my parents still think that that’s the way to go. Build a house, they say, and you’re set for life. It’s a good investment, a future-proof solution for when you’re much too old to work any longer. According to them, we need something we could fall back to when things get rough and soreness starts to show.

With the way my generation lives, with all the soda, the extra-cheesy burgers, and sitting on our asses, I doubt we’ll even live long enough to hit retirement. Besides, what’s the fun in spending all your youthful vigour saving for an unforeseeable future?

I’d rather spend my money and time on a road trip I’d enjoy now than agonise over interest for the next 5 years. I’d rather spend my money on a good bottle of wine than go over patterned tiles for the bathroom of a house I can’t afford.

And I’d choose Netflix today than fretting over a 27-inch television that would’ve gone off-style by the time I’m ready to kick back, debt-free.

Even though I explain all this to my parents as I’d explain the art of cereal-eating to a toddler, they still fall back to, “Buying a house will free up your future.” Our society has hammered the idea into their skulls for far too long.

And as I look into the eyes that plead me to save more and buy a house, I end up smiling, “Sure, mom.”

In my heart, though, I know buying a house is the last thing I’d do.

I’ve been living in my current rented house for almost a year and I’m itching to move already. If I’d have to spend hoards on a single house and live in it forever, that’d be punishment and not freedom.

Let’s Talk Money

Some say money is irrelevant, and there are things more important in life. Like human relationships, for instance. Or trust or humility.

Which is all fine, but how often do we find ourselves starving and rummaging amidst pennies, while staring through the window of Subway or Starbucks?

At that moment, nothing matters more than a few currency notes. Never would we appreciate paper more than we would then. It’s just paper, but it’s also the world. No one’s got time for humility when they’ve got a rumbling tummy.

It’s not as if Subway would handover a sandwich to an under-nourished kid living on the streets. Or as if Santa would bring us lifetime supply of basic necessities for Christmas if we’re good this year.

Life’s not school where the teacher would give you a gold star for attending class every day. Nor does life give you a tree of golden leaves you could pick any time you want some.

Life is harsh. While for some it’s painful to live without familiar faces around them, for some others living is painful in itself. No single mother who scrubs pans to feed two sons and a daughter would declare money is irrelevant. When you’ve been alone, penniless, and helpless for far too long, family and human relationships mean less than rain water puddles.

Life is ruthless. Every 20 something graduating with a degree he didn’t want in the first place, buckles under the weight of an education loan that’d tie him to a desk job for the next ten years.

Life is mischievous. It gives you countless options and yet stumps you with a catch. You could be a doctor, a teacher, an artist, even. But before you become anyone, you need to turn out your pockets to our great education system. And then frees you up to do that creative writing course you yearned for.

Catch, though: The Humanities are dead. You go down that path, and you’re future’s lost for ever. The Dead Poets Society makes it worse.

No one struggling to keep their head above water would say money is secondary. Sure, we all know the importance of being a good citizen, and that our values matter more than our lives. But when it comes to reality, nothing is louder than the voice of money.

Besides, if you notice, almost all those who care naught for money have too much of it already. We hear only their voices. Because when you’ve never struggled to make ends meet, when you’ve grown up oblivious of a Pay Day loan, money isn’t the most important thing in life.

The Expected

expected-change

They were forewarned.

They had known a change was inevitable. They had heard about it from all, and knew it all, all too well.

Their sleeping patterns altered, they lost interest in food parties, their expenses doubled, and responsibilities quadrupled.

They thought twice before flicking out fresh bills from their pocket, considered the additions, consulted the elders, and they even set up a fool-proof fire alarm.

She craved less of gingersnaps, and baked chocolate chip cookies instead; he gave up the jet ski idea for a more practical convertible.

Their life centred around one, and social was a thing of the past. Wine bottles held cough syrup and beer cans gave way to canned milk.

Personal care got a new definition; manicure wasn’t about herself anymore. A couple of nails has lost their gloss, and a few greys started showing without her consent.

His tools went into the attic, film roles over the shelf. The tripod they saved up to own lay unknown, and the sofa doubled as a bed because there never were enough laundered bedsheets.

They had known a child would change everything. They hadn’t known how radical it’d be.

Roadside Reflections

We were well on our way to Thekkady when the heat dropped and dark clouds gathered. All around us, coconut trees swayed to the breeze, and plump bushes shook with joy.

We had entered Theni, a small town with a big reputation. Even as you say the name, you’d think spanning pastures, family animals, young girls hanging out in bright clothes, and school boys picking fights with the neighbour’s kids. That’s the picture the media had given us, and as we grazed over the Theni highway, something like a yellow balloon inflated in my chest.

We stopped and got out, greedy for some Theni essence. That’s when this photo happened. The car mirrored the trees on the opposite, along with the street divider line. It was a beautiful place with beautiful weather, and elation beyond words.

theni

Choices

Graceful, slender, tall, and blonde –
in fancy clothes she was donned
enrolled in a pricey school
off to be a dancer as planned.
Twinkletoes chose tennis instead,
proved passion meant more than all.