Neighbour - A friend or A foe?

A loud clapping of a door accompanied by an outrageous scream of a name jolted me up from the nap I had involuntarily fallen into. Rubbing my eyes filled with the sleepy tears, I raised my vision to penetrate through the window to view the front gates of my two infamous neighbours. Another one of their usual squabble. “The place has to be named as Squabble Gates”, I chuckled to myself. That was like the 24^th choice in the list of the Gate Names, but I always preferred calling it simply the Gates. I always liked to while away time in worthy matters like this list creation compared to unworthy matters like reading the giant book which had been in front of me for the past 2 weeks. “How could one even write such a huge book without any story or picture?” I had always wondered. I turned my eyes back to the dull words on the even more dullish page while I sent my ear out on vacation at the Gates.

My ears sent back signals to my brain that the duel between the two heads of the house. Mr. Reddy and Mr. Lalit Kumar, both in their 60s, was about Curie, the pet cat of Mr. Reddy’s family.

“It has scratched the seat covers of my son’s bike,” screamed Mr. Kumar.

“It’s SHE not IT,” snapped back Mr. Reddy.

“How many times should I warn you to tie up your pussy cat…Else I will have to complain to the association…” said Mr. Kumar dangerously.

“Do what you can…” replied Mr. Reddy casually.

Realising my chapter in front of me was rather more interesting than the topic of the argument outside, I pulled all my senses back to complete my syllabus for the exams. They had disappointed me with a boring topic this time.

It had been 2 years since I moved in to rented house in the first floor of Mrs. Anita’s house. I had never liked the idea of hostels or PGs. I had always wanted to live on my own, and Anita Aunty, being my mother’s close friend, graciously offered me to stay in her house till I had completed my studies. I had tried to be of whatever help I could in return. The colony I had lived in had two rows of houses, and the window from my portion zoomed on the opposite row of houses, slowly generating my interest in viewing the squabbles between Reddys and Kumars as a hobby in due time.

I had no idea how deep rooted the raging attitude was between the two families. I had seen them fighting for more or less every matter under the sun. I had never understood the reason behind such inert enmity. Was it because of the principles each family carried? Was it because of their own culture? Or was it just plain ego? I would never know. Perhaps I would choose to make a project on human behaviour and take my neighbours as my sample.

Sometimes, the arguments develop to be very serious that, I would spend hours watching the drama from the window. At least for the next week or two after that, there would be an eerie silence at the Gates, a silence which used to seem more dangerous than the open fight itself.

It wasn’t just the Kings of the family always at loggerheads, but every member in the family had a matching fighting partner from the other family. Exception were the kids. It was funny how the kids of both the houses got along with each other very nicely. Mr. Kumar’s grandson and Mr. Reddy’s grandson studied in the same class in the same school. Though their parents competed with each other with respect to their son’s marks, the boys seemed to be very cool about it. Seeing them play cricket and football at the Gates was a pleasure, at the same time, I felt so jealous seeing them play while I had to hog my books. Mr. Kumar’s grandson loved playing with his friend’s little brother, 2 years old. The funny part was how Mr. Kumar himself used to leave the little one to play with his enemy’s grandson. Perhaps he was fond of that boy. Every time I thought about the weird relationship both the families lived with, my chapters looked less complicated.

I could remember every major arguments both the families had had in the past two years. Once Mrs Kumar was screaming about the nasty smell from Mrs Reddy’s kitchen. Apparently, the Kumars were vegetarians and couldn’t stand the smell of the chicken korma. A debate on freedom of expression and freedom of cooking and eating followed for the next 45 minutes, halting the cooking process in the rest of the houses.

Once, Mr Kumar’s son, Rakesh, had parked his car inching a little over into Mr Reddy’s house’s line of control. Heated exchanges queued, followed by Mr Reddy’s son, Vinay parking his car in a position impossible for Rakesh to move his car.

Another interesting fight was over the garden of two trees, and few plants. The tree of the Reddys crossed the line of control of Kumars. Screaming match began impromptu and arrows of complaints that included leaves making a mess on the corridor and uncalled visits from various insects’ families were registered.

Other arguments were: encouraging beggars, qualms about the other’s housemaid, skewed garbage bags outside and the smell from it, debate over association issues, noise from carpentry work, and many more. Of course, there should have been many other issues which I would have missed when I was in college. I wish there was an online portal to give live updates of the Gates.

Another interesting exchange was the fight over their common compound wall. Mr Reddy had raised the height of the compound wall amidst strong objection from Mr Kumar. Apart from increasing the height, he had sown sharp objects on the top to prevent anyone or anything to climb inside.  Mr Kumar objected saying kids were around and they might get hurt while playing. Mr Reddy didn’t find any meaning in his counter’s argument. In fact, he argued saying Mr Reddy is getting a secured wall on one side for free because of him. When the two Kings were in the fighting pits, their Queens always stood like escorts, nodding their heads vigorously and pointing fingers at their opponents, reiterating the same point again and again. They must have always mugged up their lessons, I pondered. I had always wondered how the two families, in spite of so many differences, still lived together. The Reddys attended Mr. Kumar’s second son’s wedding I heard, and had a happy time too.

After the cat squabble, the week had been relatively silent at the Gates. I had completed by last exam by God’s grace and was happy and relaxed. I had switched on a movie on my laptop when I heard a loud scream. Assuming, the Gates was back in work, I peeped out. I immediately sensed something was terribly wrong. Women and kids from all the houses were racing to Mr Kumar’s house. “What was wrong?” I wondered as I continued watching from the window, standing nervously. I saw Mr Kumar’s panic stricken daughter in law, running downstairs from the terrace. A moment later, I realised what the situation was.

The little boy, Mr Kumar’s 2 year old grandson had supposedly fallen down from the terrace, terrace which was in the second floor from the ground. I could feel my heart beat faster, as one of the neighbour woman picked up the child from the bushes of the plants. The boy was screaming, as his mother shambled quickly to him, hugging him and checking if he was alright. It seemed like there was no men present at the Kumar’s then. I still watched as Mr. Reddy’s daughter in law fetched a bottle of water from her house, while Mrs Kumar helped the boy drink it. The boy continued screaming, leaving everyone in fear. There was no blood wound, probably an internal wound?  Everyone’s mind spoke the same. In a split second, Vinay started his car, with the ladies of the Kumar’s household, and his wife climbing in. The car whooshed leaving the rest of the neighbours huddled anxiously.

I still stood by the window, thinking about the boy. I prayed for his good health, as I continued watching the group of women discussing, few pointing at the terrace, few others looking at the bush. Few other bystanders joined the crowd, getting themselves informed. I sat down investigating about the fall when I saw Anita Aunty talking to the ladies. I realised mostly every member of the rest of the houses were standing near the Gates, neighbours who had rushed to help.

Suddenly, I felt a pang of horror and guilt. What was I doing, sitting in my room and watching through the window. Why didn’t I run to help my neighbour? The Reddys who had always had problems with the Kumars were the ones to help and take the boy to the hospital immediately. They had buried their petty arguments and differences when the other was in need. They had forgotten the harsh words exchanged all these years. Do even relatives do that what a neighbour did today? When both the families could be so helpful to each other, why couldn’t they stay cordial all these years?

I decided to walk down and take part in the discussion so as to not be termed as arrogant and careless. The next moment I realised I would be too late into the huddle as I watched few women walking back to their home. I felt I should at least talk to Aunty and express my concern.

I had to board my train home that night but I hadn’t packed. There had been no news from the hospital which made me very jittery. I constantly called Aunty to know if she had any news but none. It was time and I had to leave. As I arranged my bags in the taxi, I saw Vinay driving into the colony. Immediately, Aunty and the other neighbours, who had been constantly guarding the Gates from their houses, waiting for someone to arrive, speeded to know what happened. I, this time, joined the group. I was relieved to know the little boy was alright, and had a small bump for which the doctors had suggested for a scan. Apart from that, the boy had survived without any injuries miraculously.

I heard Vinay calling up someone to come to his house and remove the sharp objects on the top. I couldn’t imagine what could have happened in case the boy had…

I slowly walked back to the taxi to go home. I had never realised that neighbours weren’t just people living next door, but they were family living next door. In spite of numerous problems, they would always be there when you were in need, however unfair they could have been before.

Aunty used to call me at least twice a month whenever I went home for holidays. But this time I made it a point to call and inform Aunty that I had reached home safely. This time I made sure to get a small gift for her, for reasons beyond my understanding. It could be because I really love her or it could be because I was grateful to her. When I went back to Aunty’s place after the vacation and took my position in front of the window, and opened a new giant book, my eyes instinctively went towards the Gates. A smile slowly made way to my face as I saw Mr. Kumar and Mr. Reddy at the Gates, having their usual squabble, this time pipes being the debate topic. I felt a sudden admiration for them.

The End.