Non-negotiable neighbourhoods

As is my wont, I sat in my favourite reclining chair, sipping my morning coffee while scanning the newspaper. My maid’s raised voice, as she cleared the fallen dry leaves from our front yard, jolted me. She was arguing with my neighbour’s maid, who was doing the same. I ambled over to listen to their dispute. “I’m not pushing the dry leaves towards your house,” my maid declared. “This is a public road. The corporation sweepers will come and collect them later.”

Her counterpart retorted, “Why should this dirt stay here? Push it to the other side.” My maid shot back, “What if they protest, as you are now?” The neighbour’s maid replied, “That’s your problem. But don’t push the dirt to our side.”

From the corner of my eye, I noticed my neighbour eavesdropping from her balcony, seemingly having tutored her maid for this encounter. My maid, who required no coaching, countered, “Do we have trees in our compound? All the trees are on your side. They yield fruit for you, but shed leaves in our yard. You should be cleaning up, not me. From now on, I’ll collect the dry leaves and deposit them on your side, where they belong.”

I glanced towards the balcony, and saw the landlady hastily retreating.
I commended my maid for her astute argument and adept handling of
the situation.

Across from my house lived a soft-spoken lady who kept her home and front yard spotless. She wouldn’t tolerate anyone parking cars in front of her house, including her husband’s. As I embarked on my morning walk, I’d notice a heap of leftover rice beside our gate. A pack of street dogs, for whom it was intended, disdainfully ignored it.

My maid shed light on this: “The lady opposite us throws the rice here before the neighbours wake up. The dogs in this area are pure non-vegetarians, as most residents here are. Have you not seen them following anyone carrying black polythene bags?”

The next day, I mustered the courage to confront the lady. In her soft voice, she said, “This is a public road. I can throw this anywhere I like. Feeding animals is a holy act. See how many ants and flies are feeding on this?” She walked away, leaving me feeling guilty for questioning her.

Another neighbour, an elderly couple, decided to rent out their spacious bungalow to a business, who placed huge pots on the footpath to prevent pedestrians from using that stretch. All the vehicles of their employees and clients were parked in front of our house. A gruff-looking security guard was stationed to oversee this arrangement. When questioned, his standard reply was: “This is public property.”

Recently, an acquaintance asked for directions to my house. I replied, “If you see a fleet of cars and two-wheelers parked in front of a house, and a heap of rice with an icing of ants and flies, just walk in. That’s my house!”