Of keys and shopping

I’m one of those few who actually believe that Ekta Kapoor makes realistic stuff on television.
Really. I do believe that. Maybe your next door neighbour doesn’t dress so badly and use her make-up from the 1980s, but she really does think a lot like Tulsi and her gang.
I do not endorse it. Neither do I have the patience to sit through them. But really, since when did my opinions begin to matter? I’ve also always believed everyone should kiss my feet in the morning and Marc Jacobs should really retail from Mango, at Big Bazaar prices, but then, like I said, what I think doesn’t matter.
What does is the reality. And no matter how ‘cool’, emancipated and “globalised” I think I’m, I still have to live this life.
Last night I called up this girl. Woman. Ok, girl. She happens to be my sister-in-law. Related to P.
Tintin we call her. Usually calling up Tintin at 11pm does not feature in my life-plan, but I had some work, and only she could help. Anyway.
So now a little about Tintin. She’s ,I think, about 26. Married, to another close cousin of P. she’s lived all her life in Europe. Well traveled. Fluent in 3 languages. [ No, I’m not counting Hindi, English & Sindhi here] And manages her jewelry export business.

Anyway, this is not a second marriage proposal for Tintin, so enough of her bio-data. I’ll just reproduce bits of our conversation. Why so? Just. This is my contribution to Ekta Kapoor and her million dollar industry.

T: So, enjoying the fact that your mother-in-law is out of town?
Me: Hardly affects my life.
T: C’mon. Don’t you just like managing your own house? Call the shots?
Me: Since when did deciding between gobhi and tindi and which of these will finally make it to the dinner table, after a general consensus, become fun? Especially since all such decisions need to be taken and instructions dispatched to the correct maid before 10am.
T: I think its fun. And of course, you get to have the house keys too.
Me: I do have the house keys. Always did.
T:[surprise, admiration, shock, jealously all creeping in at the same time] Shut up! You do?
Me: Yea, It makes sense to have keys to the front door and your own cupboard. No?
T: [relieved, and how] No no. That’s not what I meant. I meant HOUSE keys. Like keys to the main cupboard. Where money and jewelry and stocks and shares, you know.
Me: Oh. I’m supposed to have a copy of that too?
T: Oh god. Did she not give them to you, before she left?
Me: err, no.
T: [surprise, shock, and sympathy all creeping in at the same time] She did not! Oh god.
Where are they then? She couldn’t have taken it with her.
Me: I don’t know. How does it matter. I don’t even know which cupboard is that.
T: OH god. OH god. She didn’t give them to you? It must be with N (p’s sister). And you don’t even care. You are the wife now. You should take charge. If I were you, this would be big. Don’t you want the keys? Listen, take them from N. Its your house now. Claim it.

I'm a little confused that this point. I mean, Tintin is really behaving like my mother's grand grand aunt. Though I doubt, given my mother's side of the family, even grand grand granny would behave like this. Why can't she stop talking about this stupid key. Oh god. What the hell.

Me: Hey, chill. It’s a bloody key. And its not going to change my life. And I really don’t care. It’s a key, for god’s sake.
T: How stupid you are. You & I need to have a chat. You have no idea how to do this, do you?
Me: Do what?
T: Be married.
Me: What?
T: Listen. Take the key. Be in control, please. You could even take out the money and go shopping. Its your right. Grow up. Tell P. Throw a fit. Claim your territory right now, before its too late. Don't play second fiddle to his mum and N. I’ll even come shopping with you.
Me: Speechless. Ok. Ok. Bye bye. [lamest excuse ever: I have to go now. My boss is calling me on the other line.]

Welcome to the 'how to BE married' classes by Tintin. Enrol now. Free shopping trips guaranteed.