INDIRA LAISRAM

Years ago, I met a woman amid a sea of people in the big, big city of Delhi. She happened to be from my village, which was a great discovery in itself, and we became neighbours too, which was a bonus. When you live so far away from home and chance upon someone from the same town or village as you there is a natural bonding. But more than sharing the same background of descent, though not familial, we developed a unique friendship. I call it unique because we are different in so many ways.

In 2007, I had blogged about her because I was so touched by her story. Read Grim Predicament. It was not the ‘woe is me’ kind of story but it had a different appeal, the kind where you just lack the support to change your life. I don’t believe in crappy clichés, things like one can bring epic changes upon oneself. Seriously, you have to be a Mother Teresa or a Gandhi to do that. It is easy to say ‘I will change my life’ but life on an everyday basis needs a helping hand from those around you. Laymen…

Buying a house in India is less complicated. You only look at the house and how new or old it is. There is also the advantage of being able to flag a rickshaw, or an autorickshaw from outside your house to anywhere. When my father bought a plot of land in what seemed to be the arse end of Guwahati at the end of his retirement, many wondered how we would commute from that scenic hub. But it was never a problem. Rickshaw wallahs came to the rescue, the place is crowded now with all kinds of houses and markets having come up in the area. Still it is home. It is a house with a garden and some greenery, something I cherish and pine in this modern day of apartment lifestyles.

Coming to Melbourne revived part of that memory. People live in houses and less in apartments. And trying to buy a house is not as easy as I thought. First you look at suburbs. How green it is, how many trees and parks or streams there are, how old and established the suburb is, and what the gentry is – things you neve…