Doing nothing

At the chai dukan an old man, sipping tea, asks me, another old man: What do you do, the day. 'Nothing,' says me. He smirks, continues at his Four Square. Walks, dry on the clothes line, clothes, washing machine spins; lay down vessels cleaned by Madhavi; pick up milk from Shree Jain Dughdhalay; buy vegetables mostly at Niranjan or Saphale women; chop them --- all under orders from Rama. Like times spent at school under teachers; home below parents; office taking directions  from Bosses; now Rama. An entirely orderly life. Triple rated existence. Rama turns blue at the poor quality of vegetables, me sometimes picks up. She feels the vegetables, tosses them in the air .... buy cheap, dont take prices as stated, she argues as an occasional sabash walks past. Over the last five months trying to get a few fingers on vessels dressing the kitchen; Rama says its her kingdom and she the Queen. Me agrees but would like to make a contribution to the dining table, sorry we sit in sofas and eat. Lady hovers as me tries to begin with dal and aloo bhaji. Lady coughs in disdain. For six times and more, she has dinned in me the basics of dal and aloo bhaji making; after many slips and falls and tumbles, reasonably sure of aloo bhaji; in fact, it now turns a brisk brown; the technique turns faulty, when the salt has to be inserted; mostly, little and Rama makes a face before adding Tata iodised salt. Do not know if it helps but everybody says Tata Salt and me nods. These days practicing non argument. Dal, ordinary dal, is near to perfection, if it can be. Rama has declared a curfew.  Beyond, I will cook, you will eat, like it or not, Rama oracles and me sad as the Lord on the Cross. This is not your expertise, you do not have any, says she. As an option me kneads wheat dough for chappatis. Simply cannot role them. They take odd geographies. Left to nothingness, read Bhakti poetry, Neruda, Kolatkar ... a few lines a day, heart tablets to keep BP at 130/80. Its so. Into eyes shut after a few lines of Thay ... sleep as yoga ..... One day follows a one night and into the second day and second night ..... 'So I close my gate, shut my door, and hum songs and sing songs by myself says Four Huts, Asian Writings on the Simple Life. Me also writes poetry, lone reader, dwells in pleasure. ...