To the Local Guardian, With Love

When I moved to Pune, I made two sets of promises; one was to my parents, promising to visit all my local guardians and the other was to myself, promising to avoid visiting them as far as possible.

Unlike my luckier roommates, I had four sets of LGs to visit. Of the group, LG1 was my favourite. She didn't insist that I show myself every weekend and it suited me just right. But when the dabbawala began showing up with dry chappatis, uncooked rice, peanut soup and raw ladies fingers, I began making frantic calls to LG1. So when I was missing well-cooked home food, I called her and during the course of the conversation I would mention the bad food. This was always followed by an invitation to lunch or dinner.

LG1 was good fun. She was the kind you could go to and grumble about college, the landlady and irritating classmates. And when I felt the need to watch the Oscars at 6.30 in the morning, I'd simply stay over and watch them. She was also there whenever I was sick with strange ailments (must be the great climate that this Chennaiite still isn't used to). In short, this was home away from home. Also, LG1 was the only one my nosey, irritating, bossy, money-minded landlady was scared of.

LG2 was a sweet old man. Retired now, he had worked with my Dad sometime back and he took his duty as a local guardian very seriously. The only time I went there was when I had to pick my couriers from there. Then I would sit for long and make frequent mention of the climate. Occasionally, I would divert my attention to his three-year-old granddaughter who spoke to me in Marathi. In reply to her childish banter, I would reply, "Ho ho" (which means yes in Marathi. This is the only Marathi I have picked in one year). Her doting grandparents thought she was simply adorable.

LG2 was perfect for sensible advice. Being a localite, I always went to him with bank problems, house problems, etc. The kind and gentle man would explain all of my doubts slowly, till his eyes fell on the three-year-old who was treating herself to some squashed (by herself) mango, mixed with jam scooped out of a jar nearby. "So sweet," he would mutter, and I would reply quickly with a "Yes." (I was wondering where the child's mother was, and why she wasn't doing anything). LG2's wife would then enter with some mixture, a sweet (I don't know what it is called) and some milkshake (yummy). I usually went back from both houses (LG1 and LG2), relating exaggerated tales of what I had eaten.

I usually had to be reminded several times to visit LG2, as I didn't have much to say. Once I went there without being told because when I'd reached my house after college, I had realised that I didn't have my keys. And I needed to visit the toilet, so the easiest option was to run across to LG2's house (they live across the road).

I visited LG3 at the beginning of the year when my parents were also in Pune helping me settle down. After promising to visit them as often as I could, I had conveniently forgotten. I called once or twice and explained just how hectic life was in college (which was true), but when she voiced her displeasure, I refrained from calling her again (because I was scared). Once she called to ask why I hadn't told her about my newly acquired mobile phone (my mom gave her the number) and then she rang up to ask why I hadn't approached her when I was sick. But I've decided to turn over a new leaf, so hopefully she won't remain a mere voice when I return.

LG4 lives far far away and I had a suitable, accepted excuse to avoid going there, "It's too far and expensive by auto." But when my cousin was in town, he decided to visit LG4, as another of our cousins was living there. So I decided to go along as well. On reaching, our cousin led us into the plush living room. Numerous paintings adorned the creamy white walls and LG4 walked into the room, dressed in an expensive saree and wearing make-up.

After the initial round of pleasantries, we were offered home-made cake and some strange soft drink. This was followed by an uneasy, awkward silence. Everyone looked around, smiling occasionally, each thinking of what to say next. While we were thinking, an old woman passed by in a walker, staring at me disapprovingly. I was suddenly conscious of what I was wearing. We were interrupted yet again by another old lady, a sweet, friendly, white-haired grandma, who smiled at all of us and went to her room.

By then LG4 had broken the silence, she spoke about how she was seeing me for the first time since I came to Pune and faking a stern voice, she ordered that I come over more often. Gradually the tension eased and everyone was chattering happily. My cousins had begun a conversation that couldn't possibly include LG4, so she began knitting (probably a sweater for her grandchild) while I tried to talk to her about a favourite topic, my awful landlady. The rest of the evening went well. And soon, we were saying goodbye. Then, of course, I called my mom to tell her that I'd visited one more LG and she reminded me of the one I hadn't visited as yet.

To us students, local guardians aren't exactly the ones we want to visit when we'd rather go to the disco and watch a movie. But we should, as this is an opportunity to meet and get to know other people before it is too late. The friendly old woman I saw in LG4's house died a few days later and if I hadn't gone there, I wouldn't have known her even for those few minutes. Life is too short, so meet as many people as you can while you live!