Diary of a Little Woman | 23 minutes of peace

August 8

Dear Diary,

This has been a day of arguments.

Silly billy ones. Like Poo and Rads screaming at each other over ice cream flavours. Poo likes pista. Rads likes raspberry. Is that even a sensible topic!? Only I know the truth, they both like chocolate best. They just picked pista and raspberry because it has the same starting letter as their names.

Sometimes I wonder why I’m friends with them. In their defense, they came up with brilliant points to support their respective ice cream flavour by stating the many health benefits of pistas and raspberries. I was asked to judge. Just to irritate them, I declared bubblegum as the champion. Instead of turning their anger towards me, they continued arguing about which of their flavours is closest to bubblegum! Idiots.

Then there was the great war of words between Reeta Ma’am and Anju Ma’am over who should cover the substitution period on Saturday. Both of them were secretly planning to ‘bunk’ school that day. (I know this because I have sources in the staff room. Thank you Lakshmi Ayah.)

It started with Reeta Ma’am saying, “Please Anju. Just this once,” and ended with Principal Ma’am ordering them both to cover the same period. I’m waiting for Saturday. They’re definitely going to create a scene again, this time in our classroom.

Last and obvious was the battle of Najju vs Vanaja. This time it was a remix of all their previous arguments. Must make a list of new topics for Najju Paati, though honestly I’m done listening to Vanaja Mami’s archaic opinions of this world. (Archaic means old-fashioned. Appa and I have started solving The Hindu crossword together. Our daddy-daughter time. It’s maddening. But I’m going to master it and invite Sandy to a Crossword Challenge. He solves almost 12-13 clues every day! I maintain a consistent score of two. If I win, I’m going to make him dress as a fairy for his birthday. But knowing Sandy, he might actually pull it off. Pfff!)

Do you know what the worst thing about arguments is? There never is a winner. Never ever ever. Even if one person concedes defeat, you know that they are only doing it because they’re tired or hungry or have to use the bathroom.

And there’s the famous ‘Agree to Disagree’ line. Aaargghhh. This one’s the worst. After 47 minutes of yelling and moving all your limbs with great force, one of them finally raises their hands, puts on their holyman voice and says, “You make some great points, Kumar. But we clearly have different world views. I guess we just have to agree to disagree.”

This happens in all our family functions. Mostly it is Kumar Uncle and Srini Uncle. Sometimes Suresh Uncle joins in. Clever man, he is. He agrees with both parties and makes both of them secretly buy him ice cream at the end. Pista flavour. One point for Poo.

Luckily we heard some announcement from downstairs and had to get up to leave. I was partly relieved but mostly sad. The whole experience was strange but also exciting. When we were getting down the stairs, Sandy asked if I was ok. I tried to maintain a straight face but I couldn’t control my smile — it was the widest ever.

Over the last 8 months, I have been timing the duration of arguments that I witness. Only the longish ones, not the arguments between Amma and Appa over who has to do the dishes or the ones between Shanky and me over who has to fold the clothes. These are usually settled by coin toss.

Actually, it might be a good idea to settle all other arguments also with a coin. The world would be so much quieter. We already have so many vehicles honking on the roads. Why add to all the noise when you could instead be using your 23 minutes to read an issue of Tinkle cover-to-cover. Oh yes, that’s the average argument duration as recorded by Nila – The Great Timekeeper.

However, since people these days don’t seem to find Suppandi funny, I’m making a list of things they can use those 23 minutes for, instead of huffing and puffing nonsense sentences at each other.

• Make two glasses of lime-mint juice with extra sugar. One for you, one for the person you’d otherwise be arguing with. Either sip in silence or share your favourite memories together. If you don’t have any, create them.

• Excuse yourself to the toilet. Pick a chalk piece on the way and doodle on the inside of the bathroom door. My most memorable bathroom moment was at a cafe in Kochi that Apoorva Akka took us to. The door was filled with funny drawings and sayings. I was so engrossed that I forgot to pee and had to use the toilet in the clothes store we went to. (So boring that toilet was. Not even a mirror to make funny faces at.) Always keep a box of chalk at home.

• If you must argue, then sing your arguments. By the end of your 23 minutes, you’ll both be rolling on the floor and have created a wonderful memory to share over your next glass of lime-mint juice with extra sugar. This was Sandy’s idea after our 17 argument about who’s better - Hermione or Ron. It ended with us jumping off the desk waving wands and chanting spells to the tune of Suprabatham. 

• Watch an ant. If there are none around, go look for one. I have learnt more from 23 minutes of ant-watching than from the 20,000 hours of news debates that Appa and Murthy Mama force upon us, by claiming that they get to control the remote ‘cos they bought the TV.

• Dance. Grownups make us attend half a dozen kind of dance classes but they forget that the point of dancing is to have fun. And with all that tension in their lives, it’ll be good for them to let loose. We young grownups are smarter that way. We always move our limbs wildly when dance music is on.

• If your argument is scheduled after sunset, make use of the night sky. Even without the moon and stars, the dark blanket above makes you calm. It also makes you realise the pointlessness of the argument you were going to have.

• Best of all, make your own list of things you could do in those 23 minutes. And do them.

As I reread the list above, I realise that I’m a really smart little woman. But I should never say that out loud because it’ll definitely spark off an argument.

Thanks for being so unargumentative, Dear Diary. That’s why I love you. 

Yours smartly,

Nila