Team Ahimsa Blog Relay, Various Contests

How To Skin a Potato and Other Guidelines

"Mom, Dad! Both your phones are beeping! Come and get them please it's driving me crazy!"

Grumbling, Anil emerged from the bathroom sopping wet, a towel held around his waist. Puddles of water formed as he walked to the dining table where his mobile phone lay next to his wife's, both creating a din. Why his teenage daughter couldn't walk over from the sofa and check the messages he didn't know and had given up trying to find out.

'You are using Go For Years Shampoo - it's in your hair right now' the message read. 'You need to know that Go For Years isn't the shampoo recommended by our esteemed Governor. Our Governor personally recommends Bed & Boulders, which nourishes your hair while making it shine ...'

Anil didn't read the rest of the message. Furious, he clicked out and picked up his wife's phone. There were two unread messages and a third one coming in as he watched. He clicked the latest one first.

'You shouldn't be checking your wife's phone. What if this were a message she didn't want you to see, like a surprise party for your upcoming birthday, or a message from someone you didn't know she's in touch with? And haven't you stopped dripping water on the floor yet? Your mother will slip on the dampness when she visits, she's in your driveway now.'

"Radhika!" Anil called out to his daughter. "Answer the door when your grandmother rings, and tell her not to slip on the wet floor. I'm going to finish my shower and get ready for work."

Anil had just slammed the bathroom door shut when the front doorbell rang. Reluctantly, Radhika wrenched herself from the game she was playing and got up to answer it.

"Grandma!"

The perfunctory hugs exchanged, the girl did remember to tell the woman to watch out for the water on the floor.

"Why is there water on the floor? Don't you have a proper mop?" Grandma asked, reaching in her purse for her mobile, which was beeping.

'There is water on the floor because your son came out of the bathroom to check on the message about his use of an inappropriate brand of shampoo' her message read. 'We have informed him of which brand of shampoo it would be more suitable for him to choose, but so far we haven't been able to convince him. As his mother and as an upright citizen, we consider it your duty to tell your son ...'

"They haven't vetoed my brand of shampoo yet," Grandma informed her granddaughter, as both of them sank down on the sofa. "They've just rebuked me for which toothpaste I allow your Grandpa to buy, which dishwashing liquid I don't endorse and the colour of my wallpaper. They want me to feed Chiku a different brand of dog food. Actually, they want me to get a dog of a different colour or better still a different breed or even better they think I'm more of a cat person than a dog person. They also dislike the way I peel potatoes before I cook them."

"They want you to peel the potatoes after you cook them? Isn't that inconvenient?"

"No, no. They want me to hold the peeler at a forty degree angle, they say potatoes peel best that way. I apparently hold my peeler at an eighty degree angle and that doesn't take off the right amount of skin."

"Too much skin or too little?"

"I don't know, I haven't read far enough into the messages to find out. Their messages are always so verbose."

"Oh, Grandma, that's the land line, I'll get it. Hello? What? Too much of what?"

'Young lady, holding the peeler at an eighty degree angle takes away too much of the skin of the potato and reduces the nutrition available to the human body by point-one per cent. Now if you multiply all the potatoes peeled in this country by point-one per cent you get a lot of nutrition lost' the mechanical voice informed her.

"If I ever skin a potato, I'll remember," Radhika told the phone receiver. "Any tips about peeling peanuts?"

'Peanuts are not meant to be peeled. Oranges and bananas need to be peeled. With apples, it's optional. If a girl who is fourteen years, sixty-one days and five hours old doesn't know that, we're sunk. What is this generation coming to?' The robotic tone was sad. 'Some things need peeling to make them appealing, some don't. This is a basic fact of life. What do they teach in schools these days? Must investigate more ...'

Radhika shrugged and hung up. Immediately, the phone shrilled out again and she picked up the receiver.

'Young lady, didn't anyone ever teach you any manners? Your grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts or teachers? Don't you know that it is very rude to hang up the phone without saying goodbye nicely and politely?' the voice scolded.

"Goodbye nicely and politely," Radhika replied, putting the receiver down firmly. She went back to her grandmother, who was staring fixedly out the window. Radhika looked too but saw nothing out of the ordinary over there.

"What you looking at, Grandma?"

"I was looking over at Mrs. Gulraj there," Grandma replied. "She's mowing her own lawn, and doing it quite energetically, too. How did she lose so much weight? She must've gone down two dress sizes. She's wearing such a pretty ... Darn it, who is it calling now? Hello?"

'Hello, Grandma. Mrs. Gulraj lost weight because she switched from white rice to millets. We recommend that for you and for Grandpa, too. The pretty dress she's wearing was bought at Shefali boutique, on a sixty-percent sale. And she is mowing her own lawn because her son and daughter-in-law have gone to visit their daughter at University. We didn't approve of the girl taking up Chemistry, we thought she had more of an aptitude for Economics but would they listen? Now about the millets ...'

"I don't want to know anything about the millets!" Grandma yelled pressing the 'call end' button. "One day it's millets, next day it's garden fences, and the third it's cooking oil. Oh, hello dear and dear!"

Anil had emerged, now dry and neatly dressed, from one bathroom, and his wife, looking pretty in a new green frock and with her freshly shampooed hair all fluffy, from the other.

The usual cries of "How wonderful to see you" done with, everyone hugged everyone.

"I have to get to work, was it anything important?" Anil asked his mother. "Will you stop beeping?" to his phone, as he looked at the latest message.

'Your mother came over specifically to tell you that your brother is planning to marry that hussy and she doesn't approve and you're to stop him doing so' the message read. 'She would have told him herself but as nobody listens to her, she wants you to do it and besides it looks better coming man to man, brother to brother'.

"Mom, look, I can't stop anyone marrying anyone," Anil whined. "Why do you want to interfere, anyway? They're not going to live with you or anything. Let them be happy! She's a nice girl, I've met her a few times. Anyway, I'm going to be late, I'm out of here." The front door clicked shut behind him.

"He won't be happy with her, that's what I'm worried about. He has just fallen for those fluttering lashes, which I'm sure are false, and all that make up. And there's Anil now not willing to talk some sense into him either. Oh, this mobile. Hello?"

'Her eyelashes are not false,' the clipped voice informed Grandma. 'She has naturally beautiful eyelashes and hair. And she's a good girl. She donates to dog charities and makes soup for the needy every Wednesday afternoon. And she has very good taste in clothes, handbags and men. That's why she chose your son.'

"Not soup, but I'm needy of some privacy here," Grandma said, switching the mobile off and replacing it in her purse. "Oh dear, can't we put the land line on silent or off or something?"

"Hello," Radhika said into the receiver.

'You tell your Grandma that switching off her mobile isn't going to stop us. And tell her the girl your uncle has chosen is a gem, a princess among peasants. She's pretty, she's witty, at home in farm or city, if you'll pardon the ditty. Your Grandma would be crazy to lose her as a daughter-in-law.'

"Anything else?" Radhika quipped, but the voice didn't discern the sarcasm.

'Yes, there is something else, since you mention it. You should get a nice kitten for your Grandma, she's a cat person. Give that dog of hers away to someone deserving. Also, teach her how to hold a potato peeler, but teach yourself first. And one more thing - you probably don't know this but your Grandma was against your Mom marrying your Dad. You may want to remind her of that. And you may want to tell her that now that your uncle has finally found true love after trying so long, she'd be a poor sort of mother to stop him.'

Radhika slammed the receiver down and turned to her grandmother. "You didn't approve of Mom?" she had just shouted out, when the phone rang again. "Hello?" she snapped.

'We have had to point out to you that it's rude to hang up without saying goodbye,' the voice admonished. 'You watch out, young lady, or we'll take away your Netflix privileges.'

"Not that, not that, I'm sorry," Radhika sputtered.

'That's better. Now go and talk to your Grandma while your parents get to work on time. She'll pop her eyes out staring at Mrs. Gulraj otherwise.'

"Grandma, did you disapprove of my Mom?" Radhika demanded, striding over and looking her grandmother in the eyes. "My Mom is very nice and I love her very much and you always pretend to be so sweet with her and you weren't going to let Dad marry her? You disapproved of her?"

"Well - well - not exactly disapprove ..." the lady's face suddenly showed her age as she looked to her daughter-in-law with a plea in her eyes.

The younger woman's face relaxed into a warm smile. "Oh, Radhika, all parents disapprove of the people their beloved kids date," she told her daughter. "It's part of holding on to them because they love them so. I mean, when you've cuddled and burped a child, when you've fed a child with the bottle, you do get a bit protective. When you start dating, I'll probably disapprove of your boyfriend. Oh, this phone! Hello?"

'You won't disapprove of your daughter's choice of boyfriend,' the voice informed her. 'He's very nice indeed.'

"WHAT? My daughter - my little baby - has a boyfriend?"

'Your daughter doesn't know it herself yet, but she has the hots for young Shyamal. You know, Mr. Dwarkadas's second son. He is a lovely boy, nothing to disapprove of there. Impeccable manners, great prospects, great taste in clothes and shoes. He even likes kittens and would be able to get one for Grandma.'

"Radhika! Do you like Shyamal?"

"Do I like - I don't know, Mom, I mean - like, like like? I've been studying with him in the library sometimes and we've gone out bowling a couple of times and to one or two movies and a rock concert and he's really helpful and thoughtful, but like him? Do I like him?"

"Young lady, those evenings you told your father and me that you were –"

"Oh, Radhika, I'm so happy!" Grandma leaped out of the sofa and gave her granddaughter a huge hug. "You and Shyamal make a lovely couple, and it's such a good family! Just think of the guest list, just think of the connections!"

"Grandma! I'm fourteen! I'm a child! Don't marry me off quite yet!"

"So suddenly you're a child. What about when you said you were grown up enough –" her mother tried to interject, getting drowned out by Grandma's voice.

"But Shyamal! I mean, Dwarkadas's son! They own all the -- oh this mobile. Hello, hello, what now?"

'We would like to correct you, madam, the Dwarkadas family no long owns all the mills, they've sold some to the Jamnadas family and are now using those funds to diversify into other areas of business. We assure you that this, in the long run, will make them more prosperous and you may rest assured your son's daughter will be happy married there, she won't want for anything.'

"Oh, congratulations, my darling, you'll have everything you want! And he's a really nice boy and it's a really nice family!"

"Listen, Grandma, I'm fourteen, I tell you, I don't even know if I ... I'll get the doorbell, excuse me ... Oh - Oh - Shyamal!"

The young lad stepped in hesitantly, his brown eyes darting from one adult to the other. Curly hair framed is small pointed face. 'Cute' didn't begin to describe him, and yet somehow 'handsome' fitted well, too.

"I - I got a message, Radhika," he said. "It said I had to get over here, and I thought maybe you needed help or something so I came."

"Do you like my granddaughter?" Grandma called out from the sofa.

"Like?" The young man blushed to the roots of his hair. "When you say like, do you mean - are you asking - do I like her?"

"Yes, like. Do you want to date her? Do you want to marry her when both of you come of age?"

"Excuse me, have to check this message," the lad muttered, reaching into his pocket.

'Say yes,' the message advised. 'She's a keeper, this one, and they may look eccentric, but you'll like belonging to the family. A good bunch on the whole.'

"Well," Shyamal hesitated. "Well, I kind of ..."

"I knew it, I knew it!" Grandma grabbed her daughter-in-law and waltzed her round and round the living room, knocking over some stuff but nobody noticed that. "I'll get a grandson-in-law as nice as this daughter-in-law of mine, and I'm not going to let either of Radhika's parents protest. Oh the mobile -- hello?"

'You have knocked over two vases. Fortunately those were not very valuable, but it was indeed careless of you. We warn you to be more careful in the future.'

Grandma clicked the mobile off. "You hear that? I'm going to ensure neither of you protests."

"We weren't planning on protesting. At least, I wasn't, I can't speak for her Dad," the Mom assured the new boyfriend.

"What say we get a pizza?" the lad asked his new girlfriend. "That's your mobile, isn't it?"

'Not pizza,' the message said to Radhika. 'Not pizza. Get pasta, then you can feed him with your fork. It's a very romantic thing to do on a first date.'

The young couple exited, hand in hand.

The two women left in the living room had barely enough time to give each other a happy glance before the doorbell rang and the duo had returned.

"I got a message saying I hadn't changed out of my pajamas," Radhika stated, blushing. "I've been advised to wear my yellow frock and put an old fashioned ribbon in my hair. Will you help with that, Grandma?"

Grandma did, and the young couple exited again.

"Want coffee?" the younger woman offered the older one, who nodded.

The two women had thirty blissful minutes over coffee without any beeps or rings. They talked, they giggled together, they predicted a happy future for Radhika and Shyamal.

It was too good to last.

The interruption wasn't on the mobile phone or land line this time, it was in person.

"Greetings, madam, I'm from the Tax Department," the tall blonde at the door informed them. "May I come in?"

She entered without being asked and sat herself down at the dining table.

"Now," she said briskly. "You are the Mom and you are the Grandma?"

The two women nodded mutely.

"I must tell you that young Radhika insisted on going halves on the bill at the restaurant. Said in this day of women's liberation, the gentleman shouldn't have to bear all the expenses. She divided the bill exactly in two and paid exactly fifty per cent."

"Well, isn't that wonderful, I've brought her up right! Her principles, her mathematics, everything!"

"Madam, she is marrying into the Dwarkadas family. They claim entertainment expenses as Tax Deductible. Now if the young lady bears half the expenses, the calculation of the Tax Deduction would become too complicated. You must explain to the young lady that while I'm all for Women's Lib, being in fact an independent woman myself, we must understand that Taxes are priority and that nothing can interfere with Taxes or their Deductibility. Do I have your word that you'll speak to Radhika on this?"

There was no help for it. The two women nodded. It was either that or being bombarded with nagging beeps and rings.

"And before I go," Ms. Tax said, as she rose from the chair, "I must tell you that your husband needs to change is brand of shampoo and that you need to hold the potato peeler this way, not that, to get the most nutrition from a cooked potato. Bye now."

The two women sighed as she walked out. They weren't sure they were going to be able to convince Radhika of something they didn't believe in themselves. They needed to find a way around the problem.

"Pay him back in secret later?" Radhika asked that night, as her Mom came in to speak to her after she had gotten into bed.

"Shhhh, not so loud, dear. Yes. See, he'll get into trouble if he claims it as deductible and you've paid part of it."

"Then he shouldn't claim it. I'm a girlfriend, not a bargain!"

"Not so LOUD! I only came in here to talk to you so they wouldn't be able to hear, and I hope all of them are asleep."

"Darling!" came Anil's voice from their bedroom. "Darling! I got a mobile message saying to tell you that machines never sleep, since you don't have your mobile on you and are attempting to avoid detection."

"Tell them I'll bring up my daughter how I want to never mind their economics!" she retorted.

"They say Atta Girl, more power to you," came the reply.

"What? They're changing their mind?"

"They say they're looking for brave citizens who'll stand up to them when they talk nonsense and if your daughter wants to pay halves on a date, she is welcome to do so. They say they need more citizens like you and her."

"Wow!"

"In fact, they want to award you the Gritty Citizen Award. The ceremony is to be held at City Hall on the 24th at 10 AM and light refreshments will be served. They say you may invite 100 people. The Press will be there."

"Is this true? Oh, that's my mobile beeping in my room. Goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight, Mom, and congratulations. We'll celebrate tomorrow!"

'It is indeed true. You have been chosen as the Gritty Citizen of the month. Please present yourself with your 100 guests on the date mentioned. Click the link for details.'

She clicked the link and forwarded it to everyone. Messages, phone calls and personal visits came pouring in. Her parents and sisters booked their flights to be there for the award ceremony. It was all very exciting.

The beeps approved the entire invitee list at first go. The light refreshments took an exchange of six beeps, but were sorted out amicably. The seating arrangements took only a couple of beepers, and the decorations didn't take any since there were no decorations.

The day dawned.

The Gritty Citizen had had her hair and nails done, and was wearing a smart new dress. She was about to put on her shoes when the land line rang. Radhika ran to answer it.

"Mom, they say those shoes don't match that dress," she called.

"But I'm a Gritty Citizen standing up against their nonsense," her mother protested.

"They say you can stand up to them, but not in those shoes."

"I'll stand up in these shoes or not at all!"

"They say not at all, then, if those are the only two choices."

"What? They'd cancel now? But everything is booked and the guests will be on the way there!"

"No on the shoes, mother."

"I'll go barefoot, then, or just in my stockings."

"Barefoot is okay by them, it'll make good headlines, they say."

Barefoot she went, the gallant lady, and got her award and partook of the light refreshments, which made up for the sole-blisters.

The Press interview after the ceremony was a breeze. The beeps answered all the questions before they were fully uttered, and nobody had to speak a word. The photographer and videographer got the beeps to approve every angle, so the visuals were not a problem either.

One last cheer and the ceremony was over and the family was headed home. Shyamal came along, he was considered one of them now.

'Gritty Citizen steals hearts, inspires others to be gritty'

'Happiness Abounds At the Town Hall'

'My Daughter Shall Pay Halves On All Her Dates!'

The headlines were full of the award ceremony the next day, and all the news media buzzed with it. Between running the house, answering all the congratulatory calls and trying to get some work done, the new celebrity wished heartily that she could sink back to anonymity. She couldn't ignore the well-wishers, she couldn't ignore the family's needs, she couldn't ignore her office --

And she certainly couldn't ignore the beeps.

They instructed her to cut the newspaper reports neatly and paste hem in an album, record her interviews and archive them in alphabetical order (not chronologically) and keep a diary stating who had visited or called, when and for how long. Should she neglect to do this, the Gritty Citizen Award would be revoked. For good measure, they threw in messages about dog food, potatoes, shampoo and other miscellaneous stiff as well.

"Grit Teeth is more like it," Radhika muttered, as she checked the brand of glue her Mom was using to paste the reviews, lest the beepers disapproved.

The beepers were just as firm when it came to glue when Radhika was pasting her notices as Class Valedictorian when she graduated, and even more so about the glue used on the invites to the hand-made cards that she and Shyamal sent out inviting people to their official engagement ceremony. They had hoped to keep the beepers at bay by sending snail-mail invites, but the beepers had all the post offices wired up and knew exactly who was invited, who was left out and why. They made a great fuss about Aunt Jyoti being excluded from the list of invitees, and didn't approve of Uncle Gopal's inclusion, but otherwise they were pretty okay with things. This time, the food went through without a hitch but, there being decorations, the beepers insisted on more balloons of a different colour and less streamers of the same colour.

Anyway, Radhika and Shyamal were officially engaged with the blessings of the beepers.

Now it was time to make plans for the wedding.

They decided to go on a hike to the mountains, leaving all gadgets behind. There, among the clouds, they'd make their wedding plans, unbeknownst to the beepers.

There was an anxious moment when the beepers found out they were buying tents, sleeping bags and oxygen cylinders, but Anil managed to pass that off as a business idea he was working on. A few thousand extra beeps of advice was a small price to pay for his daughter's privacy in planning her wedding.

Radhika and Shyamal thanked him heartily and set off.

The climb was beautiful. The overnight stay halfway up was pleasant. Radhika had never spent a night in a tent before, and found it to be a delightful adventure. Using oxygen cylinders was an adventure, too.

The view from the peak was magnificent. They'd had two beep-free days and were feeling extremely detoxed and invigorated. For a while, they stood together, hand in hand, looking at the snow-capped peaks towering all around them, and the mountain-goats leaping about. Radhika hummed a few bars of 'The Sound of Music' and Shyamal topped it with a few bars of 'How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?' substituting the word 'Radhika' in place of 'Maria'.

"But I'm going to solve the problem called Radhika," he sighed, looking into her eyes. Then he suddenly became businesslike.

"Now," said Shyamal, sitting on a log and pulling Radhika onto his lap, "where shall we have the wedding?"

"What's that noise?" she asked, staring around.

The droning grew louder. A million bees seemed to be hovering overhead.

It's a bird, it's Superman -- no, it's a PLANE!

There it was, an airplane flying across the sky, skywriting the words 'Have the wedding at Keval Mahal, it's the best location ou can get!'

The two raised their eyebrows at each other and shrugged. Keval Mahal it was. They were getting ready for the descent when the drone of the airplane became louder than ever. It was directly overhead now, and something was falling from it ... a little parachute with something tied to it.

The parachute and its burden plunked down within a few feet of where Shyamal was standing. He went to get it.

"It's some sort of package with our names on it," he said, untying it from the parachute and proceeding to unknot the ribbon.

'Samples of wedding cake, dog food, shampoo and oxygen cylinders enclosed' read the card. 'Tents and sleeping bags available in the colour of your choice on request'.

They didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. Fortunately, they decided to laugh, and started climbing down.

When they got back home and tried to book it online, they found it had already been booked for the date and time they wanted -- for them -- with the best wishes of the beepers who had given Anil's credit card details to the management to take the money from once the wedding was done. There was no arguing about food or decor this time, everything had been pre-ordered.

Well, the beepers had good taste and the wedding went off well. The bride and groom went happily on their honeymoon to a spot the beepers and smiled on. The beepers, respecting their privacy, left them alone for three days with the condition that they check in each evening at 6 PM. They'd already given Shyamal a talk about the birds and Radhika a talk about the bees, so that part was taken care of. What they used while birding and bee-ing had also been duly approved of, you know what I'm talking about.

The happy couple returned from their honeymoon. Now, they had to set up house. The beepers insisted that both learn to cook and do housework before they allowed them to house-hunt.

Finally, they were installed in a cute little cottage of their own, with nice neighbours and beautiful surroundings. They used approved brands of approved breakfast cereals and approved dishwashing liquids. Radhika had to get permission to use some of her grandmother's recipes - ones that she had recently learnt to make - to be able to serve Shyamal some really nice traditional food. She got an approved job and worked approved hours.

It was time for them to start a family.

Grandma was ecstatic. "To think I'll see my great-grandchild!" she exclaimed, when they told her they were going to start trying. They'd decided to tell everyone, because everyone would find out anyway once the beepers knew that they'd stopped using what they'd been using before during intimate moments.

Family and friends held their breath, waiting for the big announcement.

They waited.

And waited.

"Have the kids given up trying, or have they succeeded and not told me?" Grandma asked Anil.

"Oh, Mom, please let them be," he snapped, covering for the fact that he was a bit anxious himself. He had so looked forward to being a grandfather, and now it was taking this long ...

"There isn't -- something --" Grandma whispered.

"Mom, lots of couples have to try for a while before they succeed," Anil comforter her (and himself). "Don't add to their stress by asking, please!"

But as the weeks turned to months, they decided to call a family conference. A baby was needed. Everyone agreed on that. Now if something more than the natural had to be done to obtain one, it should be discussed openly, without any inhibition.

"I mean, they can adopt. There are nice children to adopt," Grandma said, when Anil told her they were going to call a family meeting.

"We'll talk about it at the meeting," he said.

Radhika and Shyamal were looking shy, nervous and annoyed at the same time. "I mean, it's our kid or not yet our kid," Shyamal hissed, as the family gathered around. "Why do they have to interfere?"

"They love us and are worried?" Radhika tried unsuccessfully to convince him and herself.

Anil cleared his throat, but it was Grandma who spoke first.

"Now, children, we're gathered here together to talk about the family the two of you need to start. If you need any help from any of us ..."

"Help?" Radhika squeaked. "Grandma, what are you talking about?"

"I mean, you know, if you think a baby is too expensive or there isn't enough room in your little cottage or something ..."

"It's nothing like that. Folks, my wife and I can handle this, all right? It's nice of all of you to be concerned and everything, but honestly ..."

He was drowned out.

Every phone in the room was beeping insistently.

Everyone reached a hand for the mobile, everyone pressed the button and checked the incoming message.

'Don't blame the couple for not having a kid. We have been over to the stork and are in the process of approving the perfect baby for him to deliver. When we have selected the appropriate child, we'll send the stork over with a little bundle of joy. Till then, toddle off, everyone.'



All Words: 5043
For "What if...? story contest" 
Prompt
What if government surveillance of individuals expanded beyond current locations and that caused a complete loss of privacy for all individuals.