If you’ve grown up in a middle class household in the late 90’s, you’ll relate to this article. As a child in a middle class family, we got everything and nothing, everything that we needed and nothing that we wanted. Of course, we got some grit, some determination and a lot of love. And you want to read about that crap, this is not the place.
So, as a child in a middle class family, I was used to chaos and confusion reigning over everyone’s life on a daily basis. This is the story of how my family’s middle class inadequacies became the center of my life. And how these, made me realize the “True” purpose of life. There are 10 things here under this listicle, and if you can tick off all of them, you truly belong to a middle class family from India.
- Tell me if I am wrong. Every middle class family has a plastic bag full of bags. Well, not in Mumbai now because, you know, the government decided that after all our middle class black money and gold has been “expunged” from the system, let’s also flush out the second most valuable thing in the homes of the middle class household.
- Then of course, there’s that chair that is the step child of all the household furniture that bears the brunt of “have worn it but didn’t sweat much, so no need to wash it” pile of clothes. Or a plastic basket instead of the chair.
- Of course, there is a spoon/stirrer/spork/chopstick collection in the “kitchen ka kachra” drawer which is mom or dad’s EMERGENCY FALLBACK collection in case of a CUTLERY apocalypse as in, if Thanos decides that he wants to take on the subject of over-abuse of steel resources in the next movie.
- But wait; if you dig deeper in the drawer, there definitely is one AIR INDIA spoon/butter knife from the year you took your first flight to wherever. Why our parents want to remember the times we puked on strangers due to air sickness is a sentiment that evades me even today. The real reason why AIR INDIA is going out of business is us.
- Moving to the fridge, we have an assortment of Soya sauce, Chilli sauce, expired Oregano packets that quite literally died waiting for the day when “Main isko omlette mein dalungi”. A collection that is so well maintained, that it could put Mainland China’s sourcing team to shame.
- Then there’s the dramatic ceramic collection. Mom’s reasoning begins with.
“I must forego the other 5 cups in this set of 6 because one of them was broken by the maid”
And ends with
“FML, MY OFFICE FRIENDS ARE COMING TOMORROW, I DON’T HAVE EVEN TWO CUPS OF THE SAME COLOR. AND TO JUSTIFY IT, I DON’T KNOW HOW TO PRONOUNCE ‘ECLECTIC ENSEMBLE’.”
- Everything is not so boring though. There is a lot of thrill. Like when you’re staring at an old black house wear T-shirt and think to yourself “Did I use this to mop up the rainwater last week or does it still have a couple of days to go”.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to a Brand new season of FEAR FACTOR: POCHA KE NO POCHA
- There is the fancy shoe rack that’s empty, because no one ever keeps shoes in it.
- The giant multicoloured clothespins (CHIMTAS)pile in the window that honestly, is compromising the structural integrity of the balcony. And yet, when the clothes are washed, not being able to find a single one which leads to the most embarrassing question in the world from the Watchman “Whose bra is this” (Jerry Seinfeld said this, not me)
- And finally, that art of bragging about your possessions subtly. “We can’t keep our new car in the building parking because our parking lot has a leak in it”
We moved into a plush new society with white walls and everything! (There’s that subtle art of bragging) And yet, our shameless middleclassness doesn’t release us from its claws.
So, coming back to the point, after reading so much shitty literature, you need the Moral of the story. Sorry to disappoint you, there’s no moral, there’s that salt and pepper shaker which we put on the dining table, which never has any salt or pepper, there’s the unnecessary “newspaper” pile that never gets given away,
there are the gift wrapping papers that are under my mattress that never get used, the endless USB chords that if put together can connect data transfer modules between the earth and the Sun!
Don’t ask my haisiyat, just see my middle classiyat.