Sorry for the inconvenience

The other day you told us there’s some stuff you’ve been meaning to write about since ages. But this damn weather, this lassitude, the sheer exhaustion that is life gets in the way. What can one do but silently nod. For when you speak how can anyone interrupt? And what does one say to you, anyway?

So you carry on. Today it is about the hundredth Facebook status about maids. We always knew it was a bad idea to get you onto Facebook. Or maybe not. We listen to the long but amusing rant about the stuff that people feel is imperative to share with their ‘friends’. For how can anyone’s week be complete without hearing about how someone’s maid has taken the day off, left work or simply vanished from the face of the earth. How we all managed to get by without these updates is stuff that sociological studies are made of. Amongst the many ‘likes’ and comments there’s always the ‘overseas’ friend who’ll remark, ‘Welcome to my life since the past 9 years.’ Only to be swiftly rebuked for even daring to compare life in some corner of New York or London with the misery that is life in some tower in South Mumbai or flat in South Delhi regardless of a daily ‘full time’ maid. In all this the most wondrous thing is that besides the name and maybe the address of the ‘absent’ person little else is known. It is always about the person not being there. And the grave inconvenience caused.

Your observations are sharp and humorous though liable to get you swiftly unfriended in the Facebook world. Soon everyone starts discussing status updates, sharing and modern day friendship. But I think about Nirmal, Lado, Ayesha and Yamuna. And Kancha, Sobhan, Digpal, Subodh and Ajay. The invisible millions of India whose absence is more profound than their presence.

Now fond remembrances that make life so much richer because at some point in time they were present.