I live in the burbs

I confess I live in the burbs. I have never lived in the burbs before, and still can’t believe I’ve moved to the burbs. My neighbors are called Jack and Jill (and no they didn’t go up the hill – I’ve already asked them that). They have 4 dogs, 4 cats and 3 kids (I have a feeling they tried to have a fourth kid but something didn’t go according to plan). I have a lawn that I mow once a week. Every time I look at the lawn mower I feel like offing myself. Imagine the headlines – Man commits suicide at the thought of having to mow a lawn! That’d be one to send the shrinks into a tizzy. They’d have to start asking their patients – So exactly how do you feel about mowing the lawn? Do you resent your lawn mower? Do you feel like killing your neighbor because their lawn looks nice and green, and yours looks dead and brown?

I always wanted a house, but the housing market is such that if you want a house, you pretty much have to move to the burbs (unless you’re loaded which I’m not). Now that I have a house, I must say that “house” ownership really isn’t all that it’s trumped out to be. Don’t confuse “house” ownership with “home” ownership – home ownership is awesome, and I think everyone should own the place where they sleep at night. Amitabh fans will know what I mean – just see “Roti, Kapda, Makaan”. “House” ownership just has a whole bunch of additional headaches that a flat in the city didn’t have.