Growing Up in India

There was a time when the Indian bathroom had no design ambition whatsoever. It existed to get you clean and did not pretend to be anything more. There were no vitrified tiles, no Italian marble and certainly no Kohler or Jaguar mixer waiting to give you water at exactly the temperature you fancied. The floor…

There was a time when Indian households had a remarkably economical vocabulary for disaster. The scooter refused to start, सत्यानाश. The pressure cooker gasket gave way, सत्यानाश. The child came home with 41 in mathematics, depending on the parent, either सत्यानाश or a more personalised नालायक. Nobody said shit. At least not in the homes…

Long before air conditioners became affordable and began appearing on every second wall, Indian homes had developed their own elaborate systems for surviving summer. Heavy curtains were soaked in water and hung over doors and windows, hoping that whatever breeze entered the house would pick up some coolness on the way. Roofs and terraces were…

The Indian middle class has never been comfortable with unused space. If a corner remained empty for too long, somebody would eventually decide it could be put to better use. The loft acquired trunks, the top of the Godrej almirah acquired suitcases, the space below it became home to shoes, and then someone had the…

Nothing Ever Retired in an Indian Home There was a time when retirement did not exist. At least not for household objects. Nothing was ever thrown away. It was merely transferred to another department. Whisky bottles of every conceivable vintage rarely made it to the recycling bin. Their labels were painstakingly stripped off after a…

Every few years, someone in the family would look at the old Godrej almirah and say that it had to go. It had become too ugly, too dented and too completely out of place in a house that had otherwise moved on. The almirah, of course, never reacted. It had heard this threat many times…

If you’re over fifty, you probably spent part of your childhood sitting on a Stepney. Not because it was meant to be a seat. It wasn’t. It was a spare tyre bolted behind the pillion on a Lambretta or a Bajaj Chetak. Yet, for an entire generation of Indian children, it became first class. Dad…