ChintaMany had set his sights on purchasing another flat, with the money from the sale of an old house in the outskirts of the city.
Mrs. ChintaMany tried her best by ticking in all the right boxes about the already owned apartment. A good locality, location and all modes of transport within walkable distance. To tilt the scale, she pointed out here there are limited number of apartments and etc. He had some weak points to counter – there the next generation people have different set of priorities, showed more interest in paying EMIs on home loan and vehicle loan, had zero interest in paying attention to the affairs of the apartments and treated their ownership as a stay in a P G environment.
Particularly, what sat him atop a powder keg was the white-collar crime of some of the residents by engaging in water and power theft. He had to run email wars to set things right and, in the bargain, became a cat let loose among the unwelcome pigeons. This reminded him of the pigeon menace and belatedly he added this as another counter point to give teeth to his earlier arguments with Mrs. ChintaMany.
Mrs. ChintaMany reiterated the plus points she had listed, counselled for patience and understanding when living among other flat owners and resolutely standing on her feet, while voicing her no confidence motion, and asked, “Ultimately, will it not come to moving, yet again? How confident are you that the same old issues would not surface there also?” These failed attempts left him gasping for breath like a beached whale.
A subconscious nudge came from his wife’s refusal to even to engage in further discussion. When possessed by a demon of adamancy, his ears did not hear sane advice. What did he do? Driven by impatience, he took an impulsive decision and found himself with a sale deed for a new apartment. She took a leaf out of ChintaMany’s book of silence and remained tight-lipped about the new apartment, which had everything that was wrong with it - topmost floor, fit for positioning solar panels anywhere in the apartment civil works built up with more M-sand and less binding cement and so on and so forth.
The adopted technique on silence was not applied in the case of friends and visitors or while talking to friends. The sluice gate opened and all these” plus points” gushed out to generate animosity in ChintaMany’s mind. What irked him the most was that the apartment being declared as fit only for harnessing solar energy!
To avoid the frequent references being made about his foolishness, he grabbed the idea floated by his brother. He believed in ‘out of sight, out of mind’ will apply and the infamous plus points will be forgotten. Thinking that it would be a clever move to broach the subject, he chose the exact moment when Mrs. ChintaMany had a mouthful of food. She had little time to decide whether to munch on the food or crunch out whatever ChintaMany wanted to say. While shoveling spoonsful, she had read his facial expressions or ‘tells’ which always made their predictable appearance before he spoke.
She looked at him askance, with a question mark, which promptly scattered his thoughts all over the house. Gathering them, he spoke. " What do you think about us moving to my brother's villa? His family is thinking about permanently settling in the northern hemisphere. He had requested me if we could stay there instead of this apartment?”
Her mouth free of food, Mrs. ChintaMany leaned back and kept looking at him without moving a muscle to give him an answer. ChintaMany was too familiar with that signature look - end of discussion for the present! He secretly blamed himself for choosing the dinner time to discuss the villa proposal. Any how a lucky escape. She did not ask him, “Is he gifting it to us?”
After this botched up discussion, he let calls from his brother to go to voice mail, wondering how long would he be able to dodge him without giving a response? He thought a public atmosphere, like a cab ride might be better suited to open up on the topic once again when an opportunity presented itself. The opportunity on a day when they were going to a friend’s house. During the ride, Mrs. ChintaMany was silently looking at the hi-raise buildings with windowpanes gleaming in the sun light. Hoping for a lucky break, he reminded her about his brother’s proposal pending with them. With no food to keep the mouth engaged, she decided to put the matter to rest by expressing her no confidence motion right then and there in the cab itself.
On her
part, she had been quietly arranging the darts to shoot down this proposal. Looking
sternly at him, Mrs. ChintaMany started picking her targets, one by one.
Are we
getting employed as caretakers?
Don't we
have a place of our own apartment with its inconveniences?
Where else
we will get to place hot water generator or solar panels anywhere in the house?
If you are
after managing a garden, buy some pots and plants. There is plenty of light and
heat in the living room itself!
Soil?
Plentiful is falling off from the plastered walls, recycle it.
What do we
do with this apartment with all these plus points? Remember, we are not young
anymore.
In what way
your brother settling in the northern hemisphere, will ensure his local help in
case of need? Don't you realise that where we live has such a help, just a call
away?
If, due to turn of events, your brother decides to come back once and for all, what do we do? Blame him or yourself?
Ending the conversation without uttering a negative answer, she had tactfully implied that she for one had no confidence in his motion. ChintaMany vainly searched for weighty rebuttals and finding only damp squibs, he remained silent during the rest of the ride. If the matter had ended there, ChintaMany would not have faced another no confidence motion!
His brother having decided on a direct approach, called Mrs. ChintaMany and placed his request for her consideration. With a scorching sideways glance, through clenched teeth and in a tight sotto voce she replied, “I think not. Here we are well settled, and I am having no confidence in making a move now.”
Smarting under this implicit veto, ChintaMany decided to think of another better proposal which he would carefully craft and skillfully present, whenever a better conducive atmosphere prevailed to give him a helping hand! In the meanwhile, an opportunity came along, not for the plan he had in mind but in the form of a proposal from Mrs. ChintaMany’s sister.
This is to be said about ChintaMany - he was an expert in hiding his true thinking whenever he sensed it had more fallouts than windfalls. At those times, he used a time-tested technique of remaining silent as he strongly believed in the wisdom, “The unspoken words are priceless and trouble free!” But the downside of this was it could be misconstrued as an ‘aye’. Wanting a clear response, she persisted with the topic and to bring subtle pressure on him, she started narrating her sister’s offer to a friend or relative who happened to come by. Yet, ChintaMany remained steadfast in his vow of silence.
Failing to nudge him, she engineered a video call with her sister, whom she might have coached in advance, to confront him for an answer. He reviewed mentally all his hidden thoughts about the person vis a vis his compatibility with that environment. What lay under this generous offer? Do they want him to keep his own residence under lock and key or sell and move out? This analysis compelled him to take a hard look at the mouth of the horse proposed to be gifted.
Remaining silent becoming no longer an option, he simply repeated all the arguments she had put forth to deny his earlier motion. Mrs. ChintaMany could not believe that her own arguments have circled the wagons against her to deny her motion. She had to appreciate him as he had not said anything she had not uttered. Left with no other choice, she ended the call with some pleasantries which sounded like weak apologies.
Villas becoming villains, he thought, “If we have a villa, probably no one would try to move us out with another proposal”. He toyed with an idea of floating or sinking the residual amount in the purchase of an affordable plot, with the hope that someday in the future he could construct his own villa. Without waiting for a favourable time to give him a helping hand, he explained his plan to Mrs. ChintaMany.
Unable to hide her disappointment in him for rejecting her sister's proposal, she said in a rasping and condescending tone, "Have you not yet climbed the height of your foolishness? Will you be able to locate the plot, if purchased, at least on the sale deed document?"
In a rare
flash of insight, ChintaMany recollected these words:
“As you move,
so does the horizon and the zenith”. “Of course, it is safe for the flesh, if
the thorns stay with the bush.”