“Honey !

Let us pack AKA “Modern day Noah”

by
Chak K.J.Chakravarthi

Surely you have moved homes, I mean moved from one to another. (Thinking about my
experience so far, physically moving a home from one place to another perhaps would be
much easier). I have done it a few times and it is not getting any better. Here is an
epilogue of one of the ‘n’ move homes.

My back was aching and I thought I am going to die (what’s with back ache and killing !).
I had the most hectic 10 days of my life. We moved home (mountains!). This was en route
to our eventual new home, which was in the process of being constructed. We moved to a
half way house for economical reasons (I am repeating my wife, like always). My mother
used to lament that my sisters were brought up “like cherished parrots” and got married
to “Hawks”. With so much of repeating what my wife says, she would have thought I have
serious tendency to become a good sized parrot.

It is interesting that we packed about 50 to 60 cartons and thought half of it (or more) are
not required. Years back I left India with one suitcase, one wife and lots of hair on my
head. I still have one wife, lots and lots of suitcases and very little hair. Result of success
is but a number of suitcases and a loss of hair, it seems! By the way, half of the hair loss
was due to my own tearing them often due to the positions I was put in by my beloved
better half. I now know why many men go bald so soon and women seldom do.

When we packed I thought it would be interesting to look at the inventory and record the
decisions. The brackets are comments from various members of the family Mrs.,
daughters 1 & 2 and Mr (poor me !)

Here is the list of my experience.

1. Recipe cuttings from Femina (as far as 1920! when did Femina really start) in a
bulging file about to fall apart (all one gets to eat these days comes from cans and not
from recipe books. Nevertheless,(“I need it full stop” - Mrs.).
2. Soiled receipts from engineering hostel mess/office. (How can I throw the memories of
good old hostel days. I can’t see the connection between receipts and memory but
stays – Mr.).
3. 1.5 Delft Blue figurines from Holland (Thanks to my children the 0.5 bits are missing.
memories of our trip - stays Mr. & Mrs.).
4. Various prescriptions for spectacles ( easily I could start an internet based Optometrist
shop, with a wide variety of spectacles on offer. Nobody knows which one of them is
correct, (so keep all of them anyway – Mr. & Mrs.) First thing to do when you land in
India is go to Blue Bros. in Luz, Chennai and order a pair of glasses. Last time I heard
him telling his assistant “Hey! don’t through the old models, NRIs will come in
December and buy them”. “Frozen in time’ migrant syndrome I guess.
5. Assorted X rays (they should make them in color. Perhaps then we can hang them
somewhere in the house. ).
6. Shopping bags from various shops (my mum loves them stays-Mrs.) I am sure,
somewhere in one my previous janmaas, great Rishi Polymer cursed me for disturbing
his prayers saying ‘ You shall be rained out by plastic bags”.
7. Assorted Navarathri and Haldi Kumkum day gifts. I have a strong suspicion that the
same lot gets recycled within any given social group. We have so many incense
burners we can burn whole continents off. I fail to understand why anybody bothers.
(That is because the low IQ of your clan, stays - Mrs.).
8. Rolls of print from various galleries collected during trips This one joins the list of
things excavated from inside the various cupboards. Funny how changing home brings
the archeologist in you. (Too much money spent stays – Mr. & Mrs. ).

Intellectual property of Chak Chakravrthi. Any form of copying is breech of Intellectual

property ownership.
9. “You never play Golf”, why do you need THESE?- Mrs. “That is because you never
allow me to do so! I am assuming she would not read this. ( All right all right stays –
Mrs.) Why the language we speak is called mother tongue ? When did the fathers have
a chance to speak!
10. Shoes from daughters’ cupboard. The leather must have come from a herd full of
cows. I never understood the obsession to hang on to old shoes and slippers. When we
go to Chennai next time I can get it fixed in Nanganallur for 2 rupees. “NRIs!” would
be any local cobbler’s reaction. (Stays – commandment from girls.) Tell me why they
need shoes when most of the time they walk bare feet!
11. Now comes the most interesting part. One which I am not allowed to come close but
reluctantly had to because of sheer numbers and weight. Guessed it right the trunk/s
full of old blouses. Viba tailors, 1st Main Road, in RA Puram, Chennai must be a multi
millionaire stitching ill fitting outfits for [some what ill shaped..] NRI women. Every town
has them and they should raise a monument for the number of hours spent by NRI
husbands hanging around waiting for the wife to come out. Remember the dog and the
railway station story. (“One of the days I am going to the Gym and will get in to these
so no question of throwing them” - Mrs. OK Dear - Mr.) The hooks used surely were
invented by Adam .
12. I am on to really really taboo land. Guessed it! Silk saris. If you were an impatient
‘Chela’ of your ‘Guru’ in your previous Janma, he would have immediately cursed you
to be born in India and further cursed you to at least two trips to Nalli Silks in T’Nagar,
Chennai. I don’t know whether Bill Gates has the best job or not, but surely the worst
job must be that of the shop assistant in Nallis. Why is that after 100 saris on the table
my wife selects the first one she saw and liked? (JPI Just Pack It -Mrs. At your service
dear -Mr.) If ever any of your western friends call India a poor country, take them to
Nallis or Thanga Malligai in Chennai, they will be exorcised.
13. You open one of the bulging chest of drawers. Finally I managed to do so after years of
giving it up half way and think what a mess!. Then you pour out the contents and
decide that “I am going to relentlessly throw anything I don’t need’ (assuming I am
allowed to express my needs, that is). You pick up the first item and wave of nostalgia
overtakes you. This is the photo album from your childhood. Then comes the coin
collection (what a junk – Mrs.), blouse piece bits (always 0.25 meters short than
required – Mr.), assorted marriage invitations, assorted greeting card collection (by
Mrs., even one made in an Egyptian papyrus scroll. Archeologists where are you.!),
various film rolls (expired Mr.), various batteries (one of them will surely work, hedge
your bet), old spectacle frames, collection of contact len (is there a singular, only one
half remaining), business cards (one from a Kili Josiar from Adayar Alamaram,
promising that we will accumulate vast amount of wealth, surely the accumulation part
did prove right, I am not sure about the wealth part.), various ball point pens (most of
them as dry as Central Australia) the list goes on. The point is we never needed any of
these for our normal life.

As always I was requested (I am kidding, I was emphatically told to do ) by Mrs. to look

for the nearest “Self Storage” to store all the “unwanted” cartons (I have never seen a
more clever idea to make money. Earn millions to allow people to store “unwanted carton
full of …..).

Faithfully I am renewing the various storage fee for various self storages all around the
city. They are even mentioned in my will (I won’t be there to see my daughters’ reaction
when they inherit “what to do with these….”). When I retire I am planning to collect them
from various stores and store them in one place (I can visualize Salavation Army hastily
changing their policy to state “cartons from self storage” not accepted).

Life goes on we collect more of the same ‘Junk”. There is bit of Noah in all of us and the
self storage Arcs are always there to store the collections. The material deluge continues.

Intellectual property of Chak Chakravrthi. Any form of copying is breech of Intellectual

property ownership.