Why ‘small town’ musings? How does it make a difference whether it’s a town or a city, a friend asked.

Well, it does make a difference. Living in a small town means having the time to look around leisurely, forge relationships, chat with neighbours, exchange recipes while buying vegetables—sometimes even with the vendor. It means having the time to look after the neighbour’s kid while she cooks/ cleans, it means leaving your kid at the neighbour’s while you shop/ visit at the hospital, knowing that she’ll be fed and cared for till you get back.

Of course, living here also means having to satisfy curiosity about your guests, your routine, answering direct blunt questions pertaining to your salary, your relationship with the in-laws and so on.

Having lived here for more than 25 years now, I’ve got used to all this. Moreover, on my annual trip to the city I miss the friendly smiles, the namastes and the comforting chats I rely on. My thinking has been shaped by the town I live in. It’s taught me to care more about human beings than ideas and given me the time to look, observe and enjoy people.

It’s like being a child, not very high from the ground, noticing the ants, the weeds in the road cracks, the tiny wild flowers. The city child sees the high buildings and if lucky, the sky. Both views are important. My musings are about the small things in life (well, some of them actually pretty big). I have no ideas that affect the world….. so be it.

A pet theory-- most people fit into either of two categories: 

Those who hum as they work, and those who start humming another song loudly and continue till the former stops, unable to carry on her own tune.

Those who read books, and those who discuss the book without reading it.

Those who do their housework, and those who don't but advise all about how to do it.

Those who pay the auto fare, and those who give loud instructions to the auto driver and co-passengers.

Those who foot the bill in restaurants and theatres, and those who squirm out of it but are still discontented.

Those who work and are unappreciated, and those who don't but are praised.

Those who blow up balloons for parties, nursing their aching face muscles quietly, and those who burst the balloons energetically within minutes.

Those who work, and those who theorize.

Those who believe that everything is their fault, and those who believe such people.

Those who read the newspaper quietly, and those who hold forth about everything in it.

Those who attain a mature level of thinking early in life, and those who are immature even at 40 years of age.

Those who are embarrassed to ask for money that is theirs by right, and those who demand loans loud and clear.

Those who wear gold jewellery sparingly, and those who wear large amounts of costume jewellery.

Those who are in contact with childhood friends, and those who aren't.

Those who like plants, and those who talk about liking plants.

Those who, as guests, make the host feel capable and appreciated, and those who leave the host feeling sad and incompetent.

Those who remember birthdays, and those who don't.

Those who remember birthdays and wish, and those who remember but don't wish!

Those who are humourous, and those who are devoid of humour.

Those who can't sleep for hours during the day, and those who can.

Those who forget grudges and move on, and those who nurture grudges.

And those who belong mostly to the second category have a loud voice and are often crashing bores!