Over the past five and a half months we’ve been giving our house a new look. This obviously involved a lot of work. What began as a small job, dragged on for months and turned out to be more than just a job. It actually was a life-changing experience.

For the first time, we realised what living in a multigenerational family really meant. Not only were we four different generations living together, but we also had multi-generational artefacts, often going beyond the four generations present. We had books, walking sticks, rackets, photo albums, pots and pans belonging to Uncles and Aunts of earlier generations!

So in the house clean-up, we discovered many things that had to be put away, nay, buried in a graveyard or donated to a museum of late 19th Century life in India.

However, Hubby Dear being extremely sentimental refused to part with any object. So we decided to pack things up and keep them in an empty flat that we had purchased in Talegaon. That would be our ‘Memory House’. It was also a cheaper option than keeping it in storage.

Thank God for men who pee on the road!

We set off last Saturday in our tiny Hyundai i10 which is also old and retired from active Sales. However, it has hardly any mileage on its dashboard and is still a trusty car.

Or so we thought.

No sooner had we passed the last available petrol pump at the end of the Atal Setu, we developed a flat.

Pulling to the side of the road, the driver somehow managed to jack-up the car and began the process of removing the wheel to fix the stepney. We didn’t realise the 7 years of scanty use would cause rubber degeneration and a jammed wheel. No amount of kicking and pulling released the stubborn wheel.

So we packed up the stepney and continued ahead till we found the next petrol pump. Highway assistance is hard to come by. Slowly, with our hearts in our mouths, we crawled along for a few kilometres or so before we saw a tow van packed on the side. Alleluia! Help was at hand.

But the van was driverless and looking ahead, we spotted him a few metres away having a pee. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t disgusted at this filthy practice. Hubby Dear jumped out of the car and grabbed the man’s attention before he could zip up.

Luckily he agreed to help. This time round, he went to his van, picked up a huge sledgehammer and thwacked the stubborn wheel out of its comfort zone.

Thanking him profusely in cash and kind, we continued our journey to the ‘Memory House’.

I also thanked God for men who pee on the road!

Ciao