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Those who inherit a house as a legacy from parents miss wonderful experiences that are garnered by those who live in rented houses. The latter could boast of myriad milieux as each house in each location is a world in itself. What follows is regarding a benefit that has accrued to our son, Nishith and our daughter, Vismaya who migrated to different parts of Bengaluru.
Living in a traditional locale like Mysuru, my wife and I asked them whether leaving the previous accommodations was brusque, business-like and mechanical in Bengaluru. Though they are the products of the new age, they have not wriggled out completely of the old world sentiments. For example, Vismaya recalls how the previous owner, the octogenarian uncle, never interfered after the initial instruction against driving nails into walls, except to hang a calendar here and a mirror there. She says with no strain of complaint in her voice, “Uncle could have got some gadgets fixed; the antediluvian geyser, for instance, which functioned in fits and starts”. But she has all the appreciation for him who built a house in Indiranagar back in the ‘60s with his meagre salary!
The owner of her new dwelling is even more magnanimous. He lives far away from Bengaluru and has asked her to get the fixtures repaired and the money spent will be adjusted in the rent; further, he has said not to bother to get the apartment painted at the time of leaving.
Nishith has a different take on his previous owner. For example, the moment he gave two months’ notice as demanded by the contract, the uncle (owner) started examining all the fixtures. He looked at the ceiling fan and a spindle had to be replaced. When he hinted that the fan needed recoiling, Nishith promptly recoiled at the proposition and said, “I have never meddled with the fan and it had struck work even before I came here and I’m leaving it as I found it”.
Nishith was actually voicing a tenant’s terms and conditions, though not stated in the document in so many words. Then the uncle’s probing eyes halted on the electric switches, before moving on to toilet flushes and the calling bell. They were all resuscitated and given a new lease of life. The entire interior was painted. This face-lift given to the apartment lifted the gloom on the faces of both uncle and auntie who kept repeating, “Don’t forget us; keep coming (bartayiri), as you are just a few streets away from here”.