Differences …
So ma decided to renovate our "old" bathroom, you know the ubiquitous bong old bathroom—a cavernous, damp, water stained mess where we do all our laundry (maashi kapor gulo purono bathroom e dhuye nao) and which we surreptitiously guide our guests away from (no, no not that way, the bathroom is this way)… well she decided that it deserves a new lease of life…
bye, bye pink, chipped wash basin and hello gaudy glass basin and glazy blue tiles…
I try not to interfere with ma’s dealings and be judgmental about them, but what do you do when you bathroom looks like the setting of a lurid Sanjay Neela Bhansali dream…
My ma is so …baroque… and I’m so… not baroque… I remember the time ma insisted on hanging this elaborate painting of a waterfall which when plugged to a socket made "soothing waterfall sounds" *shudders* in my room and I relented simply because I wanted to avoid a showdown (we don’t believe in talking things out in the Biswas household)… it just hangs there and I avoid looking at it…the "soothing waterfall sound" however, proves to be a great distraction for my high-strung four-year-old nephew…
I hate the blue, glass basin… I hate washing myself on/in (?) it … I hate the way my foamy spit dribbles down its sides when I am brushing my teeth, it’s like spitting on your dining table…
Sigh…