The Double Door Fridge

 These aren't the days of mentioning the fridge even when our overflowing prejudices are frozen! Yet, born head first, I derive immense joy from doing the inevitable. Today, I will tell you the story of my fridge and my frozen prejudices. Don't you turn cold to it!

When we bought the not-so-new house, I wanted to go subtle with everything. Budget-friendly attitude is more to accommodate my EMIs than my 'Minimum is Sufficient ' attitude. So, we bought a single-door fridge than a double-door one. Enough of our family of three. 

'Think about it. It was not that expensive. We can stretch. Go for the double door.' The hubby had advised. 

With an air of spiritual sophistication, I denied it.

'Darling, what is the need for double when single is enough!'

He shrugged. 'Don't you then complain when one of your friends remarks!'

'Oh no. I will shove a shoe in their mouth and show them what Minimalist Attitude means. And if well-educated people like us can't be advocates of such proficient policies, who will?'

'Fine. I pray you don't land up being the devil's advocate.' Thus, he left with an evil grin for the grind called the office.

I was proud of myself. A person who shopped as if the world would face famines at any moment was now practicing Minimalist Approach by sacrificing the door of the refrigerator. Okay. Something was better than nothing. 

In merriment, I clicked some pictures with my plump red Single Door Refrigerator. How well it had fit in a small nook of the house like a little punished prankster! The pictures then made it to the social gallery called Instagram. Ping. Ping. The likes were pouring in. 

Great Money Saving Trick!

A comment popped. Oh, nasty mind! Who was saving money? Just a Minimalist Approach, you see.

The morning went in a blur of arranging my new cooling machine and stocking it up with supplies I Minimally used. Still. I had to have them. The afternoon dawned and my maid arrived. Before I could show her my newfound love, she handed me a small packet of sweets, excitedly.

'Madam, main double door fridge Liya!'

What!!! I did a double turnaround of What,  What like that depicted in Ekta Kapoor serials. That is what aggravated my spondylitis and I felt dizzy. Taking support of my single-door refrigerator, I barely managed to say, 'Good'. Sunita, my maid, went about cleaning the house, whistling intermittently. I caved into my room for the spin was capturing the better part of me.

This Sunita had last month asked for an early payment because she had no balance to pay her room rent. This very Sunita waited every month for my discarded dresses to fill her trunk. This very Sunita took extra cheese cubes from my refrigerator to make one pizza for her entire pesky family. Now, this Sunita had money to buy a double-door refrigerator! Gosh! Why did I do charity so that a fool could splurge it?

Who was going to drink cold water from her fridge? A mother-in-law who coughed blood or a husband who visited her once in a cold blue moon or three children with perennially running noses? What was she going to even store in it? The stale dal moved out of my fridge or the dusty remains of a few ketchup bottles and garam masalas that stubbornly stuck to their containers? Many like me pitied her. I was fuming from indignation. I need a chill pill! But no way was I going near that single-door refrigerator. 

'Aila, kya mast color hai Madam!'

'Haan hoga,' yelped back like a bitch in pain.

'Madam, aap mera fridge dekhne aaona.'

Crazy woman, was her fridge the Black Taj Mahal that I should be going to see it! Yet, the green-eyed me did go that very evening to see her Double Door Refrigerator!

The room was just the same as I had gone some years back for some trivia. She escorted me directly to the elephant in the room. Indeed, it was a big grey animal hooting in the center of the room. She served me thanda coca cola-her version of the cold drink. I refused with Minimal effort from her side.

'Madam, main bahut khus hua, tum aaya.' She said as if paying a tribute to 'Mogambo bahot khus hua'. I forced a smile. 

'Aye, Sunita, ye le ye dawai rakhna tere fridge mein' A neighbor dropped in. She immediately did the needful.

'Sunita, tere fridge se barf dena. Chotu gir gaya hai.' My Mogambo again obliged.

Thus, in the 20mins I spend staring at the grey hooting elephant, nearly 5-6 neighbors arrived to occupy her double-door refrigerator with something. 

'Kya karu Madam, chali mein kisike pass fridge nahi. Bahot jaruri. Chota lu toh kiska bhala hota. Le Liya. Kam karke paisa bhar degi.'

This was a slap on my makeup-laden face exactly the tight, onomatopoeic, slap the biwi gives to sautan in the Ekta Kapoor series. I felt deceived by my frozen prejudices. Ashamed of myself, I left the warmth of her house. Not the refrigerator but she had shown me the mirror- my convoluted reality.

She deserved the double-door refrigerator with double the appreciation. She worked to maintain my home as well as hers. I worked for none. She strived to clean my refrigerator as well as hers. I didn't bother to cleanse my conscience either. She deserved double what I could afford. 

Sunita, a silent prayer for you- may the doors of several opportunities mirror a change in your life and may that reflect a change in my stone-cold attitude!